Did you know there was a magazine called True Confessions that ran from 1922 through the 1960s? It appears to be a cross between True Crime and Seventeen Magazine’s Traumarauma.*
*Also known as ‘embarassing moments for girls who aren’t allowed to read Cosmo for its confessions.’
Yeah, I didn’t either. Except that I am a nerd who does research on pop cultural phenomena related to confessions in order to come up with a new Sunday Confessions post title every week.
This week’s theme: my Cho(bani) Confessions.
Chobani blessed me with the gift of a fully stocked refrig-CHO-rator–
–and a #tastereal spoon.
While I have happily indulged in all of the yogurt, I have not used the spoon.
Because this is my yogurt spoon.
Speaking of Chobani, when The Fresh Market opened in Charlottesville, I received a good type of sticker shock.
Despite being well-stocked with Greek yogurt,I went back with the sole purpose of taking advantage of the sale.
OK. Three times.
Speaking of that fully stocked fridge…
I rearranged everything–twice–in order to obtain the best possible lighting for the ‘stocked fridge’ photo. And then kept the door open while I took a rather excessive amount of photos…then put everything right back where it was.
And as excited as I was about the massive amounts of new Chobani , I still went to Trader Joe’s the next day and bought my usual giant tubs of Greek and goat’s milk yogurt.
Sometimes you just want plain.
Or you find the greatesta tiny thrill in eating out of the giant yogurt cartons.
The thickened edges are the best part. For the love of edges is also why when Chobani sent me a huge case of the ‘cho’ very big 32 oz. cartons, I used some to make recipes (as I believe was the intention)…
…but most I just ate. [Oops.]
In my 10-Layer Greek Dip , I was going to use the Chobani I brought home with me for Christmas, but I accidentally–I swear– ate it all, so I used a different brand instead…and just said I used Cho.
My aunt stocked up on Chobani when we stayed with her over Thanksgiving. I never had a chance to try the pineapple, so the last day we were there, I put it in my backpack and carried it on the airplane from Georgia back to Virginia.
It received quite a welcome home party. [Sprinkles!]
Of course, all of my beautifully created ‘Cho’ creations don’t stay so beautiful for long.
When Sister Smart was visiting, and I asked her what she wanted for breakfast on Sunday morning, she told me ‘yogurt.’ Despite having perhaps twelve containers of Chobani in my fridge, I told her she couldn’t have any of them, and gave her this Dannon Oikos I had stolen brought home from a school breakfast instead.
I have this weird feeling/compulstion that any time I eat a bowl of Chobani, I need to Instagram it as a way of saying ‘I love you, and I love your company’s generosity.’*
*Not that I don’t buy it in support, too.
(Confession: I was so upset about my hand being in the photo above, that at one point I tried to take a photo with the container just laying in the bowl.)
However, sometimes I don’t want to make something look fancy.
Or I want to accidentally get a bit heavy handed with the cinnamon.
So I eat other brands instead.
But I dospend an awful lot of time thinking of ‘cho’ punny comments for when I do Instagram a ‘cho’-ment. Those, however, deserve their own post.*
*Or maybe I’m just tired of writing.