I was watching On the Waterfront last night, and it occurred to me that Marlon Brando's puffy, droopy eyelids look exactly like mine. Marlon was a tough-talkin' prize fightin' macho guy. I am a 43 year-old woman. His eyes look sultry and macho. My eyes look inflamed and macho. Not good. But every time I pass a mirror today I can't stop myself from pleading, "I coulda been a contendah."
Everything reminds me of my allergies because I'm dealing with them every waking moment. Unless you've experienced the white of your eye swelling around the rim of your iris and threatening to engulf it, you probably can't relate.
And that's not all, of course. My throat itches. Not the outside, but the inside, as weird as that is. It's like there's poison ivy in there. I haven't figured out a way to scratch it sufficiently, but I'm considering enrolling in side-show school where they teach you to swallow fire. That might do the trick. But until then, I have to make this horrendous "HHHCCCCCCHHHH" noise to vibrate the itch out. It sends the yorkshire terrier running for her life under our bed. (Note to single, eligible, allergy-suffering young women: do not execute the "HHHHCCCCHHHH" throat scratch until after you have the ring firmly in place on your left hand. It's a certain deal breaker, otherwise.)
Articles in women's magazines about growing herbs in your backyard make me grumble and violently flip the page. All herbs look like weeds, weeds that exist solely to torment me. Yesterday a picture of an herb garden made me fantasize about using a blow torch to clear them out. I like the idea of having my own scorched earth policy.
I was searching for new recipes to try today, and any mention of "dill weed" as an ingredient 86'd that one for me. No weeds!
I'm getting paranoid. Everything is starting to look like something I might be allergic to:
Dryer lint: dust
my yorkshire terrier: dust ball
beautiful fresh-cut flowers in a vase on my desk at work: GLORIFIED WEEDS.
The rest of my list includes but is not limited to: cow dander, cat dander, dog dander, pollen, ragweed (intensely allergic), celery, cantaloupe, feather down, sulfa, sodium lauryl sulfate (causes canker sores), trees, grass, and songs by Neil Diamond. Other than those, I'm great.
My husband has threatened to put me into a plastic bubble to protect me from allergens. Not a good idea--chemicals and latex and all. Oh well. In a couple of months, a big, heavy frost will come down like the angel of death on all vegetation, and ironically, I'll thrive a whole lot better. Until then, good night and good HHHHCCCCHHHH.
Ragweed is the devil.