I think the tissue companies created allergies. i’m pretty sure back in the victorian ages there weren’t allergies. if something upset your sinuses or tickled your throat, i’m fairly certain it went straight to Tuberculosis or the Bubonic Plague. none of this pussy-footing around with runny noses and scratchy throats and voices that sound like you are running a late night love-line talk radio program. tickle, scratch, nose turns black and falls off; that’s how it used to be.
of course now that we have ’tissue’ companies, and all those fancy fun boxes of fluffy white, well it seems like everything around can make you sick; dogs, cats, horses, dust, fake Scotch tape that never works as good as the real stuff. grrrrr…
i guess i could just blame it on winter. or better yet, that stupid groundhog who never does what he is told.
One day, God decided He was kind of bored. Being Omnipotent and Omnipresent isn’t all that exciting if you’re the only One that knows about it. So God decided to build Himself some playmates.
Now God – who is an all-or-nothing kind of Being – got to work right away. He imagined a world of danger and beauty. He imagined lovely landscapes and frightening thunder storms. He wanted raucous noises and scary animals. He felt like making gorgeous trees and whimsical flowers. His imagination was active and fertile, once He figured out he was going to build His own play town.
And so He worked. He worked all through the night, and then He decided to make day, so He could keep working but see what He was doing better. And He kept going. Oceans, chimpanzees, sea anemones, volcanoes, bats. Animals on top of things, critters underneath, and everywhere around: wind, air, song and scent.
God is sometimes a bit intense, and also a workaholic. He didn’t have to make so many of the things in the ocean beautiful; most that stuff never gets seen, or played with. But he likes stripes and polka dots and glow in the dark motifs, so everything has the chance to be strikingly gorgeous. Except for hyenas. Poor things. They must have really pissed Him off somehow. And God being the workaholic type, He isn’t prone to taking coffee breaks. He’d made the beans by this point, but not the Mr. Coffee drip pots. But He wanted a chance to view His handiwork and pat Himself on the back, and He really needed a break. So in order to make Himself feel better – less guilty for just hanging around when He could be working on the next batch of Alien Life Forms – He created allergies. Everyone knows that when allergies hit, you’re not worth anything. All you can do is sleep, whine, sniff, and flip the remote control button a thousand times per minute. Now, God didn’t have a remote, but He did have the allergies; so He just sat and sat on the seventh day, reclined back in His cloud-stuffed LAY-Z-BOY, surveyed His creation, and had a good nap.
And that’s why you get nothing done during ragweed season.
i’m a zombie today.
not because i had something strange and wiggly for dinner last night, but because my allergies have been off the charts this year, and breathing is nigh unto impossible right now.
i’m stuffy, congested, watery eyed, and sleepy to the heavens. it’s like my indoor plumbing has gone hay-wire, and i really need a sinus roto-rooter.
so i’m a zombie. i’m walking around like the “stumbling dead” (a: i’m not walking fast b: i don’t want to infringe on anyone’s copyrights; you get what i’m saying?). i probably look like i fell out of a crypt. my energy is almost equal to that of a houseplant, or at least a light switch. and all i can think about is going back to sleep.
hmmm…now that i think about it, i should be concentrating more on brains. so perhaps i’m really a MUMMY today, longing for my tomb?
either way, i’m feeling pretty monstrous
having multiple personality disorder goes something like this:
let’s say you are a female, and you have twelve kids to feed at dinner time.
- one of the kids has stomach issues and can’t have anything too spicy
- one is allergic to everything
- one hates spaghetti because it made her throw up once
- one only ever wants to eat cereal
- one is afraid of eating anything that has gone past the expiration date printed on its container, and this means that she questions everything that comes out of the refrigerator trying to determine if you have checked the date or not, so she does not die of food poisoning
- one is on a hunger strike
- one doesn’t like the way you make the macaroni
- one is already in the kitchen working on dinner, because she thought you’d need a head start because you had a long day at work, so she’s already got things going, although she did manage to break a dish while she was at it
- one is planning on running away and having pizza for dinner anyway
- 10. one is skipping straight to the ice cream course
- 11. one can’t remember where the kitchen is and is afraid that everyone will eat without her and she will starve to death because she was forgotten
- 12. one thinks this whole thing is a big drama and is just going to bed
If you were to ask me what food was the best for being intimate I would tell you Chinese Take Out. “You are soooo weird”, I hear you whispering over cyber-miles. Too right. You might be thinking about something sexy and delicious, like strawberries. Strawberries are the “go-to” fruit when you want to have hot, unbridled passionate love making. Everyone knows that. Strawberries with chocolate, strawberries with whipped cream, strawberries with sugar. Sexy, sexy, sexy. And yes, they are delicious. Not so sexy, however, when you are allergic to them. Breaking out in hives? Not sexy. Itchy throat that makes you have to scratch it by making that weird choking/snorting noise? Definitely not sexy. Having your throat close up when you are ‘in the mood’? Wow. That sucks. (ha ha)
Chinese Take Out is definitely my food of choice for intimacy. And I’m not saying that it’s necessarily a good aphrodisiac, or that it should be involved at all in foreplay…as much as I like spring rolls, I’m not thinking they should be eaten off of anyone’s body. The intimacy I mean is more of an emotional response to the food. When I watch TV shows, or movies, any time a group of people are working hard and passionately about something, working closely together in a small knit group, Chinese Take Out is involved. Sure you often see pizza containers, but more often it seems that little boxes of Chinese food litter the table, floor, or counter tops. Chinese Take Out on TV seems to imply connection, intimacy, and being together in the wee hours of the morning. Sure sometimes it just implies hard work, and maybe a need for quick, delicious food. But somehow it has become linked with sensuality in my mind.
Maybe it’s because of an ancient conversation I had with someone, who said he knew a couple whose habit it was to stay in on Sundays, and enjoy an entire day of love making, getting out of bed only to order Chinese Take Out. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen couples in the movies or shows I watch order each other’s favorite Chinese meal, bicker about who gets the noodles or egg rolls, and wave those chopsticks around like little wooden phallus’. Maybe I just have a thing for Chinese food so it makes me happy. Maybe it’s the cute little boxes that fold up like little pieces of origami full of tasty treats. I don’t know, but I’m in love with the image of eating out of the boxes. I suppose that seduces me right there, and is a bit sensual as well. Not to mention the not always exciting fortunes that are intimately tucked into a cookie shell that could possibly resemble the female body, if one allowed one’s mind to consider such things. Secret treats inside a secret hiding place. And how intimate is that right there! Surprising me with an unknown secret thought that only I can see when I burst open the cookie. Mmmm…Chinese Take Out is good all around.
So if there’s anyone out there looking to seduce me, better get some chopsticks ready and show up at my door with lots of little folded boxes. You’ll be in for the tastiest night of your life.