Also, I'm a poser now because Abby hooked me up with Instagram.
Well, a girl has needs, you know.
Johanna and I were at the store on Sunday, and I noticed something in the ingredient list for the first time: The very last ingredient was "Vanillia." Interesting. Was that supposed to be "vanilla" or "vanillin?" Because that's kind of a big difference. So I called a clerk over and was all like, so here's the deal, and she's all like, um, the manager is out today and I don't know, plus can't you tell I'm a teenager and I don't care? but I was all, could you call me then or something, because I'm allergic yadda yadda yadda, and she was all, fine.
She did this not in a snotty way by any means, just in an embarrassed, would rather not have to deal kind of way. She's a teenager, for crying out loud. And she did call me back, so really, it's a win.
Um, to say that it was a misprint and yes, it's vanillin. BOO.
And also: That's probably why I've felt iffy lately--because seriously, I've been eating these like they're going out of style. I guess this means I will have to change to the $9.99 a pound organic chocolate chips that look slightly grey instead of, you know, chocolate brown. I should have known that a chocolate chip that was half the price as an organic one would have to be artificial.
So anyway, to sum up: I'm depressed.
*Dad informed me recently that we're not allergic--a response that has something to do with histamines maybe, I don't know, science is boring--but rather lack an enzyme that helps the body digest (aren't you proud, I listened and understood that part). I will still just say I'm allergic, though, because while technically not true, no one take stomach issues very seriously unless they have stomach issues too. It's easier to not sound crazy when there's a chance you could, say, stop breathing, instead of just spending the next six hours in a bathroom. TMI. Sorry.