Consider that my disclaimer for this post.
You see, you’re probably all going to think I’ve really lost my marbles after reading this one.
And, it’s possible I have.
But it’s totally not my fault.
You know how they say people can’t survive in a vacuum? Well, they fail to mention that the reason why you can’t live in a vacuum is because the vacuum will suck the brains out of your head and make you all screwy. Like more screwy than you were before.
You see, I’ve been pretty much in my own little vacuum this past week. Since the semester ended last week, I don’t have any more classes or grading to do. There’s not really anyone around to keep me company as almost all of my coworkers have left. Plus, it’s kind of like a kabillion degrees out right now, so I haven’t been going outside much for fear the heat might boil my internal organs. (It’s possible a few of them have already been boiled — like, uh, my brain.)
For the past week, I’ve just been hanging out in my apartment by myself with a fan pointed directly at my head. (The sound of blowing air adding an extra vacuum-y feel to my existence.)
With few distractions around, things are looking good for my plans to start my book. And should you be wondering how the whole book thing is going, I’ll have you know it’s going just as planned – the plan being that I start it on Monday. Because books are like diets, it’s important to start them on the first full week of the new month or you will fail miserably… and possibly turn into a werewolf or something. (And about that diet I was supposed to start last month — well, uh, that also starts next week as June was a totally stupid month to start stuff.)
And, while I’m hoping that all this peace and quiet will lead to a lot of productivity, it’s possible it could lead to a lot more crazy.
My brain could probably stand a bit more human interaction.
Or at least some cats or houseplants or something.
Because inanimate objects make for crappy conversationalists.
And, a lot of them lie.
At least my groceries do.
What? Don’t believe me?
I present you with the evidence:
Top 10 Lies My Groceries Tell Me
1. “Use me to replace your daily intake of wine.”
Sadly, the snack sticks, which resemble Pocky in appearance, just taste like chocolate and grape juice – and not even good chocolate or the kind of grape juice you could pretend is alcoholic.
All in all, they were quite disappointing. Mind you, they were not disappointing enough to stop me from eating the entire box.
But still disappointing.
2. “I’m full of pork.”
I pointed eagerly at it, and waited for the deli clerk to wrap it up for me. When she handed it over, it was still warm. It was all I could do not to bite into it right then and there. I even managed to get it home without tearing it open with my teeth during the taxi ride. (Will power, people! I am the poster child for will power, I tell you!)
When I finally cut it open, I discovered, instead of a delicious porky center, the pastry was hiding a dense mixture of nuts, sugar and these suspicious green and red bits that look kind of like those creepy little colored bits you see in fruitcake.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my sugar-filled pastries as much as the next girl. But you know what I love even more than my sugar-filled pastries?
After one slice, I didn’t eat any more and ended up throwing most of it out.
That, my friends, is true disappointment.
3. “Something in Chinese.”
I think we can all agree that yogurt is a natural-born liar. Yogurt packaging is notorious for implying stuff that nobody should believe; like, “Eat me and you’ll lose weight!” or “Eat me and you’ll suddenly be able to do yoga!” or “Eat me instead of dessert; you’ll never notice the difference!”
In fact, if yogurt wore pants, those pants would always be on fire.
I’m sure this container of yogurt is no different.
Sure of it.
4. “I am cheese.”
Well, I’m not buying it. (Even though I did buy this product. Don’t judge. I live in Asia, where my choice of cheese products is severely limited. Besides, I am kind of a sucker for fancy French accents.)
Let’s review the list of doubtful claims made by the packaging:
a. This is mozzarella cheese.
b. This “mozzarella” “cheese” can be used to make something called a “special pizza.”
c. This is made in France.
Okay, so after careful inspection of the package, it appears that this product was, indeed, made in France. (Obviously, a part of France where they don’t have much dignity… and possibly any cows as I’m pretty sure this “cheese” is not made from milk but from recycled bits of plastic.)
After careful tasting of the product, it can be concluded that all other claims are false. This is certainly not “mozzarella,” that’s for sure. Unless by “mozzarella” they really mean “polystyrene.”
Plus, I highly doubt this can be used to make any kind of pizza. Unless by “special pizza” they are using the word “special” in a bad way — as in, “Wow, Sally, you sure are special.” (This statement is usually accompanied by a vigorous twirling of the forefinger around the ear.)
5. “I am coffee.”
Okay, so I’m sure you probably guessed that by now because, obviously, I’m a classy lady. And us classy ladies like the finer things in life – like expensive hotel rooms, fine wine, good coffee and dressing up in pink, pleather cop uniforms while performing karaoke.
But it’s hard to be a coffee snob in China. The grocery stores near me only sell instant coffee. The only place where you can buy real coffee that is made from coffee beans and not questionable coffee-like chemicals is Starbucks.
Unfortunately, Starbucks can be pretty pricey for my meager English teacher salary. Not that a classy lady like myself isn’t willing to splurge on the finer things. (That pink pleather cop uniform was worth every penny I spent to rent it… and every penny I spent on antibacterial soap to scrub the pink pleather cooties off of me.) But, you know, every once in a while I actually try to act responsibly with my money. (It’s not a common thing. Stop making such a big deal about it.)
Plus, I’m lazy and the closest Starbucks is a thirty-minute bus ride away.
And, remember, it’s like a kabillion degrees outside, and I have my internal organs to think about.This week (due to frugalness, laziness and an attachment to my lower intestine), I was forced to buy instant coffee at the grocery store near my house.
I bought the Maxwell House “Rich Flavor” because it has the word “rich” in the name. Yep, Maxwell House, you know what us classy ladies like! We like our coffee rich just like our men and our chocolate! Am I right or am I right, ladies? (Okay, so maybe this really only applies to chocolate and coffee as I tend to like nerdy, arty boys with the money-management skills of a hobo.)
The packaging on this product promised a “coffeeness” level of 3. Judging from the packages of other instant coffee available at the store, this is the highest level of “coffeeness” legally allowed to be sold over the counter here in China.
And, let me tell you, Dear Reader, this stuff blows.
That wasn’t very classy, lady-like language, was it?
How about this:
This stuff can suck my Folger’s Crystals, if you know what I mean.
6. “3:15 PM Milk Tea. Anytime. Anywhere.”
Am I allowed to drink you only at 3:15 pm or can I have you “any time any where”?
It’s so like royalty to give such mixed signals.
7. “Paper not from trees.”
This is like saying a “non-virgin-person” is not actually a person. Which would mean anyone who has had sex is a robot. Which would mean most adults on this planet are robots.
(Uh, except for me. I am totally not a robot as classy ladies like myself save ourselves for marriage. And I’m not just saying that because my parents read this blog. Besides, if I was a robot, I’d totally be better at math.)
8. “People smile in the morning. You could be one of those people if you eat this oatmeal!”
9. “Life is a road and forever wonderful journey.”
And (spoiler alert) it’s not such a wonderful ending.
10. “I will make your microwave explode.”
Popz Microwave Popcorn also promises a fun light show right in the convenience of your own kitchen – you know, when your microwave explodes! (Wheeee!)
Now, I’ll have you know, that I have had quite a few bags of this popcorn since discovering it at my local grocery store, and it has yet to make my microwave explode. This is rather surprising, actually, considering I have kind of a knack when it comes to making my household appliances explode… or at least burst into flames.
Needless to say, I’ve been a bit disappointed.
But that’s not the only thing disappointing about Popz Brand Microwave Popcorn. (You know, aside from the unfortunate spelling.)
I was shocked when I turned over my package of popcorn to discover this printed on the back:
I didn’t move all the way to China to eat crappy, processed food made in the United States. I moved here to eat crappy, processed food made in China!
As disappointing as this discovery was, it does explain why the popcorn hasn’t made my microwave explode yet. If that popcorn had been made in China, my microwave would totally be a pile of rubble by now.
After all, this is China we’re talking about here, people! China! China is the birthplace of fireworks and exploding watermelons! If any country can make a snack food that explodes, it would totally be China.
It’s just a matter of time, my friends.
11. “Vegetables are happy… and will help you with your cleaning up.”So, I know this was only supposed to be a list of ten things, but I lied. Usually I would never do that kind of thing to you, but I’m blaming it on the company I’ve been keeping this week. (Two-faced, no-good groceries!)
According to the wrapping on my paper towels, vegetables are whimsical, two-legged creatures capable of human emotions like happiness. Also, (according to the diagram below) they are capable of helping you do the dishes.
This is a lie, people.
I have spent the entire week holed up in my apartment making conversation with my groceries, but I haven’t heard a peep out of any of my vegetables.
I mean, just look at these carrots:
Not exactly the life of the party, huh?
I mean, I’ve known cardboard boxes with more spunk.
And, where, I ask you, are the carrots’ legs?
Plus, I’ve had a pile of dirty dishes in my sink for three days now and those carrots have not once offered to help clean up!
There’s a reason why they’re called vegetables, people. They just sit around and act like… like… vegetables!
And check out this onion:
Let me tell you, Dear Reader, that onion is a total doucheball.
That wasn’t very classy, lady-like language, was it?
How about this:
That onion can kiss my Vidalia, if you know what I mean.