Trees and Potato chips

Three months later and a limited diet that consisted of waffles, cereal, chicken and pasta, I have ascertained my allergy. Several visits to my (yes I've been there numerous time so I can say my) allergist, endless prick tests, weeks of journaling my food intake has proven that it is no food allergy. Oh no, not for me. I am allergic to....ready for this one? Trees. Yeah. a 4+! So if anyone reading this wants to get back at me for not laughing at your what did 0 say to 8 joke (p to the s: nice belt), making a big deal about not liking fajitas, hating your guts for randomly busting out into "She takes the money! When I'm in need" or kissing your boyfriend when I was 12, here's how...take me to the park for a day! Surround me with maples and hickories. Roll me around in freshly cut grass. Yup. Grass is up there too at a 2+, along with dust mites and cats (Billy, Crystal... you have to hide your pussies if you ever want me to come over again). All these years I've been a prototype of clean lungs and nostrils, healthy nasal cavity and fresh sinuses, and now- at 26 I develop allergies. Wait it gets better. The only option would be allegra-d for life. Not cool. I'd have to go off when a bun is in the oven. Or weekly shots for a year, then less often for 2 years after. So we're talking about a three year commitment to allergy shots. What have I done to deserve this? It's true, there was a time I was vindictive and used someone's toothbrush to scrub the toilet, slipped some bleach into the shampoo and yes, even spit in the mac and cheese, but those days are over. I'm all about good karma now-a-days. I'm all about emitting positive energy (and a lot of hot air). Some shit is not right though. Someone out there has a voodoo doll of me surrounded by little green leaves and grass. Keep hating. Must be my hot ass, or my joke-telling skills. Don't hate.
Joke for you. Have to give credit to one of my students for this one. Quality joke:
Two potato chips are on a roof. One jumps off, why doesn't the other one?
Because he was a wise potato chip!
Haha. Timeless.

Sense Part Two (installment #11)

Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome.
Working title- Sense Installment # 11 (continued from Jan.17th)

George spins next. I know it’s going to land on me even before it stops spinning on the wood floor. The way his wrist spins the bottle, the way the bottle touches the floor as it turns and spins and rolls and slowly stops moving, landing on me. He asks-truth or dare. I feel risqué and say dare. He dares me to kiss him. So bold and blatant. A few people “Oooh.” I should be shocked, but I’m not. I tense up and don’t breathe for a second. I play it cool, because that’s the rep I have, the cool girl. I grin and nod, ok. We move towards the middle of the circle. George is underrated. Because of Pete, George is overlooked. He has deep brown eyes, the color of rich soil. His hair, short and spiky always gelled perfectly, pinnacles scattered about his head. His lips, we all talk about his lips, so plump like tomatoes or strawberries or something yummy to eat slowly, in a timely fashion. Erica, Theo, Litsa and I, we all agree, we want to experience kissing him even though he is goofy and totally immature.

HaHa

Funny

Sense Part Two (installment #10)

Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome.
Working title- Sense Installment # 10 (continued from Jan.6th)

One person will spin, whomever it lands on has to answer a truth or do a dare of the “spinner”. We agree. We start out tame. Many truths. No ballsy people until the bottle lands on Marco. He asks for a dare. Louca dares him to kiss the ass of a guy of his choice. We erupt in laughter. “No he didn’t,” someone yells slapping his knee, amazed at the fierce dare. Marco debates in his head, does he do it to the guy he likes the most? That may seem a bit fruity. Does he kiss the ass of the guy he dislikes; that would not be cool. He stands up and grabs Louca, spins him around and smacks a kiss on his tight blue jeans. We laugh and applaud and ask for an encore. Marcos is beet red as Louca punches him in the arm cursing for being chosen. We all kid and tell him he’s got the nicest ass in the room. He takes a bow and flaunts in the attention. The bottle moves hands.

There's no place like Anguilla.

It's Sunday night. I should be doing work for the week. Should be, but can't. I'm looking at pictures from Anguilla and wish I could be transported back there. Wish I would click my heels three times and be back on the beach, eating some fresh seafood, drinking some fine wine and just relaxing listening to the beach. Here's a sunset from Oliver's, a restaurant we dined at while on our honeymoon. Summer can not come quick enough!

Belonging

The importance of being a part of a group. I work in a high school, surrounded by kids who sociologically are such prime examples of what humanity represents. The need to feel pretty, the need for positive reinforcements and of course the need to belong, the need to feel accepted. To some level or degree we all need some form of acceptance or reassurance. As rebellious as we are, we all like to think there is a place for us on this earth. Part of making us feel like we belong means fitting in with a certain group of people. Family, high school friends, college friends, co-workers, friends of friends', friends of significant others', clubs, sports, organizations, associations, etc. The need to identify with a group of people is a must.
International Child and Youth Care Network believes that a child cannot succeed in a school which he/she feels entirely and completely unattached to. Most children fail in school not because they lack the necessary cognitive skills, but because they feel detached, alienated, isolated from others and the educational process. When children feel rejected by others they either internalize the rejection and learn to hate themselves for being different, or externalize the rejection and learn to hate others.
I love this quote from John Steinbecks' East of Eden. It describes the story of the human soul.

"The greatest terror a child can have is that he is not loved, and rejection is the hell of fears. I think everyone in the world to a large or small extent has felt rejection. And with rejection comes anger, and with anger some kind of crime in revenge for the rejection, and with crime, guilt —and there is the story of mankind." (p. 270)

I think of these things as I walk through the mall, noticing the ugly guy rushing through crowds of people, rude and abrupt, pushing without apology. I wonder where he belongs. Face, scarred, dimples of acne, hair greasy, smelling of stale cigarette smoke and Brut cologne. Who is he rushing to see? There's the lady, legs swollen, stomach bulging out of her two-sizes too small top, swinging her shopping bags, looking over at her much skinnier partners in shopping. Sisters maybe, definitely relatives. The two, they talk and the one with the plump thighs, she seems excluded, separated by an invisible barrier that sets them apart. All these people want is a place they can feel like themselves, abandoning the phony smile or tough exterior and being accepted for who they are.

Anaphylaxis

What is anaphylaxis?

Anaphylaxis is a sudden, severe, potentially fatal, systemic allergic reaction that can involve various areas of the body (such as the skin, respiratory tract, gastrointestinal tract, and cardiovascular system). Symptoms occur within minutes to two hours after contact with the allergy-causing substance, but in rare instances may occur up to four hours later. Anaphylactic reactions can be mild to life-threatening. The annual incidence of anaphylactic reactions is about 30 per 100,000 persons, and individuals with asthma, eczema, or hay fever are at greater relative risk of experiencing anaphylaxis.

Just when you think 26 is too old to develop an allergy, think again.
End of November I dined at the Rutgers club with some friends from college to catch up, reminisce about college and vent about teaching. The meal was great (as usual), the company better, the reaction however, no so great. About an hour and a half after the meal I started feeling weird-my throat tightened, I had a hard time swallowing, my eyes became watery, my mouth was filling up with saliva (so much so that I had to spit because I couldn't swallow it all). I thought it was indigestion. I tried to have a ginger ale to calm my stomach. I could barely sip. My chest began to tighten and I had trouble breathing. I thought I had to burp. Hours later, after a cold shower and some tea I could breathe better. I could at least feel comfortable about going to sleep.
I finally made it to the allergist a few weeks later and she informed me that I had a severe food allergy and reacted with anaphylaxis. She scared the shit out of me. Now I carry and epi-pen. More tests need to be done. I have a mild allergy to pork. I do love my bacon and ham, but there are worse things that I could be allergic to...like milk! I am thinking it is processes pork.
I reacted again yesterday and it was shortly after a ham and cheese omelette. This time around I had severe pressure around my nose and eyes. My eyes were watery and my throat tightened --feeling sore and I had a hard time swallowing. And I got so tired! Weird. I'm going back to the allergist tomorrow. I just hope we find out definitively what it is so I can avoid it! And I love food so much. What have I done to deserve this? Probably when I drank the last juice box. Bad karma.
http://www.foodallergy.org/

Sense Part Two (installment #9)

Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome.
Working title- Sense Installment # 8 (continued from Dec.18th)

Margarita, she is not at the party this night. She said she had plans with Mavroskoufi. I ask her is she is going to fuck him again. She says hopefully. I ask if she is going to give him a boob job. She says her boobs are real. I explain the boob job as letting the guy stick his penis between your breasts and rubbing it up and down until he cums on your chest. She says,
“No shit, I’ll havta try that one.”
She makes me believe she didn’t let Pete do that to her.
I want to be like her.
I want to rip her breasts off and glue them onto my body.

After the cheese doodles, the coke, and the ice cream, and the homemade cookies, we sit down full, exhausted and horny. A room full of teenagers with no parents just eating junk food; I know to expect more. Someone suggests truth or dare. I’m glad she did before I did. Everyone calls Claire a pervert, laughing, appreciative that she brought it up before someone suggested a game of rummy. We gladly sit in a circle. George grabs an empty glass coke bottle off of the floor. He lays it on its side and says we’ll use this bottle.