feral emotions and sorbet water

unsnackable vol. 37



May 31 2021

4 mins read


My travel habits have always walked the line between ruthlessly efficient and unhinged. Personal habits tucked into self-mythologizing and coping mechanisms as fuel for window seat main character moments. I thought time would break down the artifice, but I still dug out my packing cubes and decanting my beauty regimen into unlabeled Muji bottles that can only be deciphered by color/scent/texture.   

I can't believe that getting off the plane and seeing this salty abomination in a vending machine felt like a warm welcome. 


Something about the feigned sincerity of the Midwest, my soothing proximity to Menards, and a sudden shift from an internal monologue to constant conversations with people I've missed so intensely has made me feel emotionally feral. But there's also access to a full-sized kitchen and a momentary reprieve from a constant onslaught of dishes saving me.


Who knows what a long weekend feels like after a year of fake time, but maybe a good measure is just thinking of it as a time for more unsnackables

the unsnackables


Speaking of feeling emotionally feral, the utter stupidity and genius of turning this beloved tea cake into a donut and then slipping it into the linguistic uncanny valley of calling it a "jonut" makes me feel like I am losing touch with reality. I would hate it if it wasn't a nearly perfect execution of the concept. 


I feel wholly uninterested in the cyclical squabbles of y2k nostalgia/ aughtsalgia because the cultural milestones that are being mined mostly reflect whiteness and because I am quietly hoping the well runs dry enough to encourage a misguided VC to throw money at a Neopets reboot. I yearn to log in and play a modified turn-based sim recreating British cheese-rolling festivals more than anything in this world. But until then, I will just be content to think about these wheel-shaped cheese sticks and how fun it would be to roll them down a tiny hill. 


It is easy to say that bad seltzer tastes like regret and the generational trauma of fruit harvested too soon, but I've felt immune to true disappointment ever since I accidentally brought a bottle of tonic water to my middle school day camp because I thought it was a new flavor. This sparkling water would never disappoint me because it is flavored to channel a refreshing Algerian lemon sorbet called créponné.


Boozy seltzer will probably continue its reign of mediocrity over the US RTD beverage market this summer, but I've slowly realized that they bring much more to the table when used as a mixer instead of a standalone beverage. I will top off lazy wine spritzers with boozy seltzers on sweltering days this summer while wishing I could drink this canned spritz with a dash of orange syrup instead. I'm also dying to pick up enough Slovenian to play this branded drinking game that looks a bit like SORRY and requires four full cans for each player. 


I’m still figuring this out, but hopefully, you enjoyed v.37 of unsnackable.

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