Gooood day to you!
I have a confession today that I need to get off my chest. At the risk of offending, well, everybody, I must confess:
I hate Greek yogurt.
Are you still reading? You didn’t just close the tab or faint or anything, right? I know you already read that in the title, but you probably thought it was a joke or something. But no. It’s real. Are you still with me?
If you aren’t really familiar with the generally agreed upon likes and dislikes of the health & wellness blogging community- well, at the top of the “likes” list is Greek yogurt. So believe me when I say I have tried soo hard to like it. I have tried to like it by adding fruit, sugar, honey, candy and everything else you can think of to
disguise obliterate all hints of the natural taste. I have tried to like it as one tries to deal with cough syrup- by holding one’s nose on it’s way down. I have even tried adding orange juice in attempt to liquefy it into a more palatable texture, meaning one that is less akin to wet cement.
But alas, all of these tactics have failed miserably. And I have finally accepted the fact that in addition to “female”, I am also a member of the minority group that will hereby be known as the “Greek Yogurt Haters Club” or GYHC for short. My best friend since high school, Elyse, is the other founding member. We didn’t even know about our shared hatred for this particular thing until the following conversation happened last week:
Elyse: So have you heard about Chobani Flips?
Me: Oh yeah, I read about those… Looks good…
Me: If I tell you something, promise to still be my friend?
Me: I hate Greek Yogurt.
Elyse: ME TOO!!
So our newly founded Greek Yogurt Haters Club will conduct all meetings at an undisclosed location and discuss such pressing matters as: “What happened to all the Dannon Lights?” And of course: “Cottage cheese really isn’t that bad of an alternative. Really. Try it with pineapple”.
Oh well, luckily we still belong to some majority groups as well. Such as the one that everyone automatically joins when you reach that certain age (either in years or maturity- whichever comes first) when you look at the too-revealing and grievously-unflattering summer outfit of a young hipster and wonder aloud: “What would her mother say?”
Alright, it’s truth time. No judgement at this blog. What do you strongly dislike that everyone else loves? (Or vice versa) Like the nuns used to tell us in Sunday School- it’s time for confession!