Suspicious.

You know, I was never a big fan of raisins. I am more of a dried cranberry kind of gal, and sometimes prunes fit the bill when my iron levels are low. The other night, though, Jeffy was in charge of the salad and he brought over greens, heirloom tomatoes, Goddess dressing, and golden raisins.

Unlike golden showers, golden raisins taste great with dressing and greens.

But like golden showers, the mere thought of them makes me wrinkle my nose and ask "Why?"

First of all, what kind of god-forsaken, pasty grape do they come from? Once I figured out that raisins are just dehydrated grapes, my mind was at ease. But, fast forward a couple weeks to now, and I am baffled again. I pulled out the old INTRANET and did some typing.

Blog Montage:
CU-Grae adjusting her glasses and leaning into the screen inquisitively
INS-Pencil writing feverishly on lined notebook paper
MS-Grae at the computer, typing and biting her lip
INS-Computer screen that reads "Golden grapes are a myth and you just ate some moldy Trader Joe's remnant grapes..."
CU-Grae gasping indignantly
ECU-Same text as before. It reveals the closing word of the sentence, which is "SUCKER!!!"
WS-Grae shoving her chair back angrily and tipping the desk over in an angry rage
Title Card-Later that night...
MS-Grae finds a golden grape on the floor among the ruins. She sniffs it, blows off some lint that is on it, and eats it.

Turns out that some people call these things muscats. Wasn't that a song? Muscat Love? Anyway, they are "made of white muscat grapes which are seeded, specially oven-dried (rather than by sun), and treated to retain their light color. Some golden raisins are dried Thompson seedless raisins which have been kept light by the use of sulfur dioxide."

Mine are the sulfur dioxide kind. Maybe that's why they taste better when coated in creamy, garlicky dressing.

I have always loved trying new things, as long as it didn't involve clowns or disturbing my digestive tract (that's why my ex and I broke up). I am still wary of these little gold thingies sitting on my desk. They taunt me in their Glad snack-size bag. They sound like the nuns at my old Catholic school. "We're married to God, of course we don't masturbate!"

jesus. g