Certain signs indicate that it is Autumn. Two weeks ago it was still summer, now the howling winds are upon us. Well, this being California, the winds don't howl so much. At present it appears to be raining slightly. Which, no doubt, is making other people's commutes quite hellish, because Californians don't handle rain, and don't know how to drive in 'weather'.
Some people will take the bus rather than driving, because they don't want their car to get wet.
A few will tear the house apart looking for their umbrella.
They last saw it several years ago.
It cost good money!
Those of us who grew up in a cold wet boggy swamp -- such as, for instance, the Netherlands -- are quite calm and rational about the whole affair. We've occasionally seen rain before. We know what it is.
We will not panic, and shan't contribute to hysteria.
Calmness and rationality are what we radiate.
Instead, we say comforting things.
"Cheese? I can make cheese! I shall need a large quantity of play-doh, and some Elmer's glue. As well as turmeric."
See? The very mention of cheese has a soothing effect. And actually, that wasn't me, but my apartment mate, who is wide awake and full of energy early in the morning. No, I do not know what prompted that thought.
But her confidence about dairy processes is awe-inspiring.
As well as her familiarity with processed cheese.
The yellow crap sold in square slices.
Which tastes like victory.
Other people panic in rainy weather, not her. It's that innate Cantonese brashness. With joyful self-assurance she will tackle the challenges of a rainy day, and make the best of things. Some thoughts may be quite unintentionally voiced, not meant conversationally, and batshit loopy besides, but they provide fascinating insights into her mind.
She's of Cantonese ancestry. Which means berserk.
And judgmentally obsessive about cheese.
Which is square and yellow.
We've never had American-style processed cheese in the house, but she probably remembers it from her childhood, when it was undoubtedly part of school lunches, or added to macaroni, as part of the horrible growing-up that all children in this country are subjected to. Mystery meat, square cheese, raisin snackpacs, ding dongs, and frankenbeans. Hamburgers which are twenty-five percent agricultural product, because the California date farmers have a voice in state government. Tomato sauce which is no more than twenty five percent agricultural, because sugar and chemicals are so much better. Catsup: ten percent tomato. Mustard: turmeric, sugar, and vinegar, but bugger-all in the way of actual mustard. Canned Chinese food once a week, because it's educational.
Home-made sweet and sour pork, from a recipe that only involves two cans.
Okay, that last one was made-up. Most Americans simply buy the brand at the supermarket, and add salt, sugar, and extra hot sauce.
You can pour it over a hotdog, in lieu of canned chili.
Canned chili, of course, needs lots of cheese.
Little square slices, bright yellow.
Play-doh, glue, turmeric.
It's processed.
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WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?
There is an air of distraction to the streets in C'town nowadays. People seem lost in thought, absent minded, somewhat out of it. And mo...
2 comments:
I guess "love" and "cancer" sound the same in Chinese, but still, WTF?
I believe that that was meant to be educational.
Either that or kiddies programmes have gotten more surreal in China.
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