She’s fiya burning, fiya burning...

I should be awarded a prize from Homeland Security.  I have discovered a "humane" way to torture someone!  I was generous enough to be the guinea pig of this new technique...but let me start from the beginning.

I was cooking a lovely Mexican feast for Eamonn and myself.  Mango chicken flautas and Spanish rice to be exact.  As I was cheerfully dicing jalapeños, my nose began to itch.  Without thinking, I scratched it.  In the process, a seed from the pepper made its way up my nose.  The burning sensation started slowly, but I soon started to feel it in my throat and all through my sinuses.  I ran upstairs to try to flush it out, but somehow the addition of water spread the fiery sensation to my eyes and the skin on every part of my face.

So spicy!

Now it's serious.  I start screaming: EAMONN!!!!! AAAAAAAAH!!!!!!  Obviously, he comes running because he thinks I'm dying - and I'm not about to correct him.  I am dying.  Someone has stolen my face and rubbed it into the sun.  I can't see, my nose is dripping, I'm coughing, I'm crying, my whole face is on fire.  It is the worst pain of my life.

Eamonn to the rescue.  "Pour a shot of milk into each eye!" Fail.  Now I'm on fire and have milk all over myself.  "Let's try putting your whole face in it."  Now I think he's just messing with me, but I'm pretty desperate at this point.  I submerge my face in a bowl of 2%.  The burning finally becomes less unbearable.  I keep an ice pack strapped to my face for the rest of the evening, but eventually I recover and now have a lovely YouTube video as a memento of this adventure.

So the point is that I experienced the worst pain of my life and now I'm fine.  I'm not suggesting that waterboarding or getting fingernails plucked off are less painful experiences than jalapeño up the nose, I'm merely suggesting that we can accomplish similar goals with minimal permanent damage!  I would have told anyone anything if they could have made that pain go away - and jalapeños aren't even the hottest pepper!  Imagine what we could do with ghost chiles!  With clever culinary cruelty, we can get what we need from those terrorists without becoming the monsters we seek to destroy!

This post became a bit of a soap box, which was not my original intention.  But now you get to see what a fool I am, a hilarious video, AND know my opinions about torture (kinda).  You're welcome :)

Allergy Sufferer ≠ Animal Hater

Last night Cary and I were looking for suitable pets for me.  Turtles and fish seem to be my only options.  I have very bad allergies.  If it's fluffy, cute, cuddly, or just simply mammalian, I am allergic to it.  It's not just that I get sneezy around dogs or cats - I break out into hives, my throat starts to close, I wheeze, I sneeze, and my nose runs like a faucet around any animal that people typically enjoy.  I went to Amish country once and took a nice horse and buggy ride: ALLERGY ATTACK.  I went to the circus: ALLERGY ATTACK.  Renaissance fair: ALLERGY ATTACK.  You get the idea.   The sad part is that I really like animals.  I would love to cuddle with a kitten or play with a puppy (whoa, alliteration) but my body won't let me.  Pet lovers do not always understand this.  Oftentimes, when I tell people that I'm allergic to their beloved pets, they look at me as though I just said I wanted to eat Fido for dinner.  They look offended and skeptical: how could this girl insinuate that my adorable kitty would hurt anyone?
I am not insinuating that.  I love your pet, but I'm simply trying to save you a trip to the emergency room.  These are some of my favorite responses from people when I tell them I have allergies and can't stay long in their house.

"It's OK, I just vacuumed."

Oh vacuuming! Why didn't I think of that? Unless by "vacuumed" you mean shaved and genetically re-sequenced your pet, then it is not OK.  You may have bought me 5 extra minutes of breathing time in your home, but if you think that you are the genius that realized the cure for allergies was vacuuming you are in for a world of disappointment.

"It's OK, Fluffy is hypoallergenic."

I have said this a million times: just because your pet doesn't shed as much as other pets does NOT mean that he is hypoallergenic.  I don't care what the dude at Petco said, I will still break out in hives if that animal comes near me. 

"It's OK, Rex is such a good dog, he won't bother you."

I would like to make this perfectly clear:  I do not blame your pet for my allergies.  I blame my overactive immune system. I blame God. I blame bad luck. Don't look at me like I accused your pet of murder. I know it's not its fault, and I'm sure its lovely and smart and does awesome tricks, but I'm still allergic. If Rex is really such a good dog, then he will understand that it's nothing personal, but my body hates him.

"It's OK, my dad has allergies and he's fine around Gloopy."

This one is the hardest to deal with.  People suddenly because experts because they know someone who has been "cured" of their allergies by their magical pet. They assume that I can be cured too, or that I'm just faking since allergies can simply be warded off by certain special creatures. I'm very happy for your dad/mom/brother/etc. I'm glad they overcame whatever watered-down version of allergies they had - but my allergies are not their allergies.  Mine are serious, so I'm sorry if I look distracted during your testimony about your miracle pet.  My immune system is attacking me and fighting imaginary toxins, rendering me incapable of focusing on how your dad was cured of his sniffles.

I'm sorry pet lovers.  I'm just jealous and bitter that you get to cuddle with fluffy lumps of happiness. I'm just looking for a little understanding.

Grrr...

Who's cranky today?  Me.  So here's a list of things that make me want to punch people.

• When cars stay still at green lights
• I don't know about you, but I have places to go.
• The "oh no we're going to run into each other" dance
• Uh oh, we're walking in the same path!  I'll go to the right - oh wait you're going right? Ok so I'll - no wait, STAY STILL!
•  Guys talking about their work out regiments

• I will never care about how many reps you can do, or what protein concoction you've replaced your breakfast with, or how ripped those squats made your quads...or pecs...or anything of the sort.

• Sneak preaching
• You know who I mean.  That kindly old lady sitting at the other end of the table.  "Sure, ma'am, I'll pass you a napkin...no, no thank you, I would not like to pray with you. I'm already acquainted with Jesus.  No really, it's cool.  Would you believe that I'm Jewish?

• The dude that sits with his legs all the way open

•  There is no way your gentleman parts are so huge that you need to take up three subway seats so that you can have breathing room.  Move over.

That's not such a big list - and I feel better already!