POM

I heart POM.

I know I'm supposed to play cool about this sort of thing, but I cannot contain myself. I got my first blog product offer, from a product I actually drink regularly. Or that I used to drink regularly before we cut down on grocery shopping and instead made an effort to diminish my end-of-the-world culinary stockpiling (I heart Costco too).

But I'd say to anyone who isn't paying more than their mortgage to a black-holeish institution called Day Care, that quality products come with parallel price tags, and that POM is worth it. As such, I was especially juiced (ha) recently to learn that I would receive some ruby nectar via post. I called the security guard at work every day for a week-- "delivery for me yet?"

Then, Yom Kippur arrived and the Temple submerged into chaos. Boxes of prayer books were scattered nilly willy, Memorial Books clogged the padded benches. The security guards were burned out on vigilance; the maintenance men were giving shout-outs to Jesus Christ. And apparantly, a POM delivery occurred on September 30th that never got on anyone's radar. Now it is gone. Totally and completely. I've even checked the Ark (this is a lie, but I would have had I thought that my POM would actually end up there).

This is my second missed-tracking postal experience this month. The other was from FedEx (to home, not work) and contains a top secret piece of a project that I am working on for my sister's wedding next weekend. Yikes. So I guess this post is just to say, thank you POM, and I'm sorry for flubbing it. Your heart (and mine) was in the right place.

On another note, today at a coffee shop, a priest told Rooster that BB's eyes looked like plums. Pomegranate flavored plums?