SAA Ep. #72: When Cookies Talk

About two and a half weeks ago, I reread this fascinating, albeit rambling, blog about my own awkward methods of losing weight. After reading it, I realized I needed to take my own advice. Over the holiday season, I'd put on a little weight.

And by "the holiday season," I mean July-December (Independence Day is a holiday, right?).

And by "a little weight," I mean 20 pounds.

So I went back to being a good little Calorie Nazi, and in the past two and a half weeks, I've dropped at least 4 of those regained pounds (I weigh in on Mondays, but it was 4 pounds at the last count).

Things have gone well. I've stayed well within my calorie limits. I've exercised a lot. I'm feeling awesome.

But something happened today that I did not expect. Something awful, and wonderful...and awful...

A few weeks ago I'd ordered some Girl Scout cookies from my favorite local Girl Scout. I had ordered them before I decided to start counting calories and losing weight. I figured then that a few cookies wouldn't hurt. But now that I'm a Calorie Nazi again, these cookies aren't just cookies. They're cheerfully packaged, sugar coated, high calorie discs of evil.

I took these cookies into my home, knowing how few of them it would take to cancel out a whole week's worth of workouts.  I didn't know what to do, so I took them out and looked at them.

...that's when the real struggle began...

I heard a voice, a faint voice, say "Gracias."

"What was that?" I asked, knowing I was in the apartment alone, unless I'd completely forgotten about taking in some new Hispanic roommate....

"Oh, don't worry about TAL. He isn't much of a conversationalist," another voice said. This one was much higher pitched, and much more annoying, than the first. "Are you going to eat us now? Oh, please do!"

"Who said that?" I demanded.

"It's me!" the voice said with a giggle. "Your box of Lemonades!  We are crunchy and sweet! Eat us! Eat us like butterfly pie!"

Amazed, I stared at the five different boxes of cookies on my counter. "But...you're cookies. You can't talk!"

"Of course we can talk," another voice said. "Either that or you're crazy. Hunger can do that to people. I suggest you eat us."

Flabbergasted, I shook my head. "Um...which one of you spoke that time?"

"That was TMI," a completely different voice answered.

"Mango, I told you NOT to call me that!" The cookie box sighed. "I'm Thin Mint. THAT was Mango Creme."

"And I'M," proclaimed another box if cookies, seemingly indignant that I had not addressed it yet, "Caramel DeLite. Formerly known as Samoa. You can call me Sam."

"I call you DeLITEful!" Lemonade squealed with a giggle.

"Asante," said the first voice.

"Let me guess," I said. "That was Thanks-a-lot."

"Oh yes!" Lemonade exclaimed. "TAL is so funny!"

"You're...all funny. Weird funny," I said.

"Weird? Me?" Sam said haughtily. "You just be glad it's just us. There are more of us, you know. Ol' PB Pattie is REALLY a nutter." 

"And Shout Out isn't here, either," Mango said gruffly. "I'm glad you didn't order any of that jerk. If I have to hear that fool shout, "LEAD" one more time, Imma lead him off a cliff."

"I'm surprised short bread isn't here," Lemonade laughed. "That guy always likes to Tag-a-long."

"Must you ALWAYS be so cheerful?" Mango asked Lemonade.

"You know what they say, when life gives you lemons, eat cookies!"

"Yes. Eat cookies," Sam agreed. "If you're through with the introductions, we really would like for you to eat us now."

Again, I shook my head. "You...you WANT me to eat you?"

"Oh yes!" laughed Lemonade. "Getting eaten is our purpose in life."

"She's right," Thin Mint agreed. "We were made to be eaten. You can start with me."

"No, me!" said Mango.

"No, me!" said Sam.

"Hsieh Hsieh," said TAL.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then said, "Look, guys...uh...cookies. I'm afraid I have some bad news. ...I am counting my calories."

"That sounds like fun!" chimed Lemonade. "Are calories like butterflies?"

"Uh, no." I said. "And...I'm afraid all of you have too many calories."

"Yay! We're wrapped in a calorie butterfly cocoon of joy," Lemonade breathed happily.

"Again," I said firmly. "NO. You have too many calories. That means I can't eat you."

A collective gasp rose from the cookies.

Even Lemonade sounded disheartened when she...it...said, "But...but...what about the cocoon. We were going to be reborn in your tummy to fly evermore."

"Lemon," Mango said calmly, "I WILL punch you in the face."

"Cookies don't have faces!" Lemonade squealed. "But if we did, I would have a sour puss!"

Mango growled. "This is serious. I mean, what do you mean you can't eat us. I'm nutritious! I have nutrifusion, enhanced with nutrients derived from fruit. I'm healthy!"

"Oh, puh-leeze!" Sam scoffed. "You can read your own box and still miss the words 'artificially flavored.' You aren't healthy. The cookie is a lie. You're just a big box of lie cookies."

"Yeah!" Thin Mints agreed.

"Merci," said TAL.

"Oh yeah, Sam," Mango retorted. "What about you, huh? Your name is a lie. Yours too, THIN Mint. Its a clever marketing scheme. If you're THIN, how can you possibly be unhealthy? Right? RIGHT? Ha! You're not even thin, really. You're just small-chocolated.  And YOU, Sam. Caramel DeLITEs? Who are you fooling, you caramel coconut fatty fatty fathead."

"Ha! That's funny," Lemonade laughed gleefully. "And mean."

"Everyone calm down," I huffed. "I think it's fair to say that none of I are as healthy as you claim."

"But what about my nutrafusion?" Mango asked.

"Sounds like hippy food to me," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah," Sam said sullenly. "If hippies got their food from laboratories instead of hippy farmers."

"Shut it, you," Mango threatened.

"Look," I sighed, "I can eat you guys. I will. I promise. But...it might take me awhile. I will have to eat you one at a time, and not every day. It could take months to finish you all."

Mango seemed satisfied. "Well, that should be okay. We do have a good shelf life."

"You should," Thin Mint snickered. "You have a lot of artificial preservatives."

"You could just put us in the freezer," Sam suggested.

"Oh, yes!" chirped Lemonade. "The freezer is like an icy winter butterfly cocoon of joy."

"There's your hippy cookie," Thin Mint said dryly.

I had had enough. "Ok. Everyone into the freezer. Thin Mints, you first."

"I really do think you're just going crazy from hunger," Thin Mint said as I put the box inside the freezer.

"It's better this way," Sam said as his turn came. "I taste even better when frozen."

"Oh, just put me in the freezer already," said Mango. So I did.

"You know what I've always wondered about Girl Scout cookies?" Lemonade asked as I picked up her box.

"What?" I asked hesitantly.

"How come we don't taste like actual Girl Scouts?"

I sighed and put her in the freezer.

Then I picked up TAL, expecting to hear some annoying word of thanks in some weird language. But he was silent. So I put him in the freezer and closed him inside with the others.

But as I turned away to continue my dictatorship as Calorie Nazi, I heard a faint voice whisper, "Thank You."

Fun With Autocorrect Episode 1

I just got a smart phone back in December, and I was finally able to start using it at the beginning of the month. Having a smart phone has made my life easier. I can now just tell Google: "grumpy cat" and it will look up hundreds of images of that cute little furball, and deliver them right to my phone. Only sometimes it gets confused and thinks I said, "crumpled bat," and I don't really want to see any pics of that guy.

Another way my phone has misunderstood me is via Swype. I used to make fun of people who sent weird typos or strange words in texts, but now I get it. I get it like pie.

I have no idea what that meant.

Anyway, to do what I do best, turn awkwardness into hilarity, I'm going to Swype out a mundane story and NOT correct the mistakes that autocorrect corrected. Does that make sense? I don't know. But I hope this will be funny. And not too inappropriate. Because autocorrect sure seems to like being naughty. Here goes:

A Trip to Walmart by Socially Awkward Girl:

One day I went yo Walmart to buy syne stuff. I was out of Shani and conditioner. I also needed syne deodorant because I was out and sometimes I sumo.  I also needed see food because reading is fun and kind of impotent if you d want to nut fur.

So I went to get my Tuileries, and there in the middle of the agile was a skiing cat.  I couldn't get asking the shopping cat.  it Furth have anything in it, but I thought it might belong to someone ego also wanted to but deodorant.  I tried, but my cart was too wide to get stringy the other shopping cart. 

I was nervous. I looked both ways, Hong no one would see Mt move the song carry.  What if someone had pt an alarm on it and it aster being in the mogul of the sir? I would be do embarrassed.  But I was bold and brave enough to rich that cart  and I nudged it or of the wast.  No one even knew the stiffened.

It then leaned down to get my deodorant and realized they were out. So I Sigurd if just be stinky fur a wholly.

Then I went to get my shampoo, and three was a least there reading the label and I coign Getty pray her. I Bede the same stamp she was looking at. I waited a bit, but fired it was to much terrible, and I fled the aisle before she cod talk to me or emerging equally scary.

Them I went to get food. I got stunt you're and some peruse and see surface and Dunne pirates. The latex were particularly fresh.

I didn't get any salad because UT looked beige. And I was or of shag dressing and didn't think about buying any mute.

Then I guy syne I've cream, because I like ice can.

I went to the self checkout to avoid taking to puerile, but the machine went crazy and the annoyed checkout dude had to come help me. Really, I just let him scam my items fir Mr, which was naturally like I had give to a deviously checkout Kane in the first paddle. But I didn't.

Then I took my groceries home and put them in the Grieg. All except fit the I've crash.  That I are with a soon dyestuffdrum the creation.

Then I webby r sheep braids the asterisk intersection Weir me out.

The end.