Hmmm. 10 seconds ago, I had plenty of motivation to blog. Now, I think I'm gonna repaint my nails instead. They're very chipped from last night and I just can't handle looking at them for another minute. Be be back soon.
Update: I'm back! My nails are a lovely shade of OPI's "Suzi Skis in the Pyrenees" (a dark gray inky blue) and I'm ready to rock. I feel much better about the state of my nails. Woot. Love the color!
First off, let's discuss Monk's Kettle. This very small "gastropub" in San Francisco's Mission District offers, like, five full pages of different beers (Typed in 9 point font. Single spaced.) Right away, one can see why DJC chose this place for his birthday celebration. They also have a pretty decent food menu. The problem: its VERY small, fairly pricey for beers and is overrun with an abundance of trust-fund hipsters. What could go wrong?
When we arrived, we were told that our entire party needed to be present to be seated, but because there were eight of us, we couldn't all be seated together. Ummm, ohhhh- kaaay. The place is so small that they literally couldn't seat eight people together. The host was flustered and flitted around until he figured out a way to get a booth for six and then a small table for two in close proximity. Despite having to wait over ninety minutes to be seated, all was well.
Our waiter showed up and told us we had to order food immediately. He rushed us through our entire meal. After our dinner plates had been hastily cleared, he informed us that he had been told by his manager to "move the table along". What that meant was that we either had to order more food (dessert), or we had to go. Apparently, there is a very long wait for a table on Saturday nights and they couldn't afford to have us sit there and only order beers. Ahem. Take a gander at their beer list and tell me if you've seen beer prices that outrageous before. Its not like we were all ordering glasses of water or sodas and simply taking up valuable space. I flashed my pearly whites and told the waiter that we definitely wanted to order more beer and planned to spend more money. He still booted us out. I guess when you've got a line out the door of people wanting buy your overprices libations, you can do whatever you want. The thing is WE WERE TOTALLY THOSE PEOPLE.
Fine, ass clowns. We decided to take our little party three doors up the street to a place called Gestalt Haus, but before we left, I hit the restroom. The ONE restroom in the whole place. Of course there was a line. While in line, I overheard our waiter bitching and moaning about the conversation he had with DJC about the table situation. Ok, I get it...I used to wait tables and I sure complained about a customer or two, but I made DAMN SURE that the customer was nowhere in sight. He carried on while I stood right behind him. One of DJC's friends convinced me not to confront the guy and so I didn't. But I heard everything he said and it was most certainly not professional. Ick.
When we arrived at Gestalt Haus, DJC's buddies ordered three ONE LITRE mugs of Hop Stoopid beer, an 8% IPA. The price: $18. For all three. That's $18 TOTAL. Insane. We totally could have skipped all the Monk's Kettle drama and gone straight for the good stuff at Gestalt. Well, at least we know better now. Can't say we'll be going back to Monk's Kettle any time soon. I just wanted DJC to have a good time with our friends and I believe he did. So, no biggie. YAY for Gestalt Haus saving the day!
But, I still Yelped about our experience. Yeah, I gave them two stars only. One for the beer selection, and one for the giant pretzel on the appetizer menu. Damn hipster establishment with their bullshit attitudes toward customer service.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Whiskey D*ck
This is posted outside of my nutrition class at the local junior college. Hilarious.
Sometimes, I forget how old I am or that I've already done the whole college thing. When I first saw this poster, I thought it was ridiculous. Because seriously, who doesn't know this? But then I walk in to nutrition and I'm instantly reminded that there are some people in the class that are still teenagers. Perhaps they don't know about "brewer's droop". Poor souls. Perhaps they will actually learn something from this awesome poster (complete with a William Shakespeare quote). I have to think, though, that kids these days...they're pretty well versed in all things alcohol by the time they get to high school. By the time they get to junior college, this is common knowledge. In which case, the poster is even more awesome.
It's just so....graphic. Love it. Happy Friday, everyone!
Monday, January 25, 2010
More laundormat insanity
The scene: the less than awesome laundromat, right after lunch. The place is packed. PACKED. Its hot, damp, and loud. So loud. Whoop.
Me: No makeup, chipped nail polish, hair wet from the rain, velour pants, black Uggs. So. Not. Hot.
Him: Receding hair line, cargo shorts and flip-flops despite the rain, cell phone permanently attached to his ear, can't stop looking at me. Really. Kinda icky.
Finally, homeboy makes his move. As I'm folding my laundry (and DJC's) directly from the dryer, he slides up next to me, gets my attention, and says, "You've got nice legs and a great ass. Wanna get a drink sometime?"
I think my mouth might have fallen open. Despite the sheer hilarity of the dude's comments, there are several very pressing issues that I feel I need to discuss:
First, did he miss the very shiny ring on my left hand? I feel like people of his age (roughly mid 30s), look for the ring before making such a ridiculous stab at my "great ass". For all I know, he saw my ring and just didn't care. Whatever the case, EW.
Secondly, and far more importantly, ring or no ring, did he think that line would actually work? I'm afraid he thought it would. In a laundromat. While I'm clearly folding a man's polo shirt. Good lord.
The funny thing was that I was SUPER embarrassed by the whole exchange. Its not often that I hear compliments about my hind quarters from strangers. Its not like either are my best feature. I think I may have turned eight different shades of red. Thankfully, I quickly dispatched the weird stranger and continued to fold underwear and socks.
There are times when I'm happy about being able to wash and dry four loads of laundry in about ninety minutes, but today was not one of them. Oh, who am I kidding...today was totally hysterical.
Me: No makeup, chipped nail polish, hair wet from the rain, velour pants, black Uggs. So. Not. Hot.
Him: Receding hair line, cargo shorts and flip-flops despite the rain, cell phone permanently attached to his ear, can't stop looking at me. Really. Kinda icky.
Finally, homeboy makes his move. As I'm folding my laundry (and DJC's) directly from the dryer, he slides up next to me, gets my attention, and says, "You've got nice legs and a great ass. Wanna get a drink sometime?"
I think my mouth might have fallen open. Despite the sheer hilarity of the dude's comments, there are several very pressing issues that I feel I need to discuss:
First, did he miss the very shiny ring on my left hand? I feel like people of his age (roughly mid 30s), look for the ring before making such a ridiculous stab at my "great ass". For all I know, he saw my ring and just didn't care. Whatever the case, EW.
Secondly, and far more importantly, ring or no ring, did he think that line would actually work? I'm afraid he thought it would. In a laundromat. While I'm clearly folding a man's polo shirt. Good lord.
The funny thing was that I was SUPER embarrassed by the whole exchange. Its not often that I hear compliments about my hind quarters from strangers. Its not like either are my best feature. I think I may have turned eight different shades of red. Thankfully, I quickly dispatched the weird stranger and continued to fold underwear and socks.
There are times when I'm happy about being able to wash and dry four loads of laundry in about ninety minutes, but today was not one of them. Oh, who am I kidding...today was totally hysterical.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Wisconsin wine follies
It was a cloudy, snowy day in Brookfield, WI. I had a terribly stuffy nose and didn't feel at all like drinking. Yet, there I stood, in the wine isle of the local Sendik's (the Wisconsin equivalent of Andronico's) while DJC hunted for his favorite Wisconsin beers. I was searching for the elusive local ice wine that Dtex had told me I had to try. I was failing. Local wine, apparently, did not exist. I sighed...loudly.
Then I noticed two HUGE women in a heated debate near me. One woman was looking for a particular kind of wine although she couldn't remember what it was called. The other woman then took notice of a bottle on the shelf and said, very loudly, "WHOA. Francis Ford Coppola makes wine?!" I couldn't help myself. I replied that yes, actually he does, and that his wines aren't all that bad. They immediately pegged me as an out-of-towner and asked if I was from California. When I answered affirmatively, they pummeled me with questions about their mystery wine, because "all Californians know about wine".
Neither of them knew the maker nor the type of wine they were looking for, but they both kept saying something that sounded like "rinuti" and "abrusco". Hmmm. Sounded Italian. I told them that I am no wine expert, but that I wasn't familiar with a wine called "rinuti abrusco" (I know now, after Googling it, that abrusco is a type of grape indigenous to Italy). I asked them to describe the taste, hoping that I could at least pick out a similar wine for them. They said hey weren't sure if it was white or red, but that it was fruity and very sweet. "Ick," I thought. I quickly picked out a bottle of Ecco Domani pinot grigio for them. I hoped it would be acceptable and that they wouldn't be cursing me later.
Later in the evening at the DJC family Christmas party, I noticed a HUGE jug of RIUNITE LAMBRUSCO wine. Oh. My. God. The women were actually asking for Reee-yooo-nee-tee wine! Riunite! Hilarious!! When I told my story to DJC's dad, he laughed and said that those ladies were more likely to find their Riunite at a gas station as Sendik's probably didn't even carry it. Love that I sent them away with a pretty decent bottle of pinot grigio... and they listened to me because all Californians supposedly know about wine. I bet they were so pissed later in the evening. LOL. Classic.
Then I noticed two HUGE women in a heated debate near me. One woman was looking for a particular kind of wine although she couldn't remember what it was called. The other woman then took notice of a bottle on the shelf and said, very loudly, "WHOA. Francis Ford Coppola makes wine?!" I couldn't help myself. I replied that yes, actually he does, and that his wines aren't all that bad. They immediately pegged me as an out-of-towner and asked if I was from California. When I answered affirmatively, they pummeled me with questions about their mystery wine, because "all Californians know about wine".
Neither of them knew the maker nor the type of wine they were looking for, but they both kept saying something that sounded like "rinuti" and "abrusco". Hmmm. Sounded Italian. I told them that I am no wine expert, but that I wasn't familiar with a wine called "rinuti abrusco" (I know now, after Googling it, that abrusco is a type of grape indigenous to Italy). I asked them to describe the taste, hoping that I could at least pick out a similar wine for them. They said hey weren't sure if it was white or red, but that it was fruity and very sweet. "Ick," I thought. I quickly picked out a bottle of Ecco Domani pinot grigio for them. I hoped it would be acceptable and that they wouldn't be cursing me later.
Later in the evening at the DJC family Christmas party, I noticed a HUGE jug of RIUNITE LAMBRUSCO wine. Oh. My. God. The women were actually asking for Reee-yooo-nee-tee wine! Riunite! Hilarious!! When I told my story to DJC's dad, he laughed and said that those ladies were more likely to find their Riunite at a gas station as Sendik's probably didn't even carry it. Love that I sent them away with a pretty decent bottle of pinot grigio... and they listened to me because all Californians supposedly know about wine. I bet they were so pissed later in the evening. LOL. Classic.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Metropark and Jersey Shore
Ok, I'm OBSESSED with MTV's latest trainwreck TV show, Jersey Shore. It is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. I should hate it. Instead, I cannot turn it off. I find myself watching old episodes over and over because they're just that goddamn entertaining. The plot, its not that interesting. In fact, its a pretty blatant rip-off of The Real World (seven randoms picked to live in a house and have their lives taped...and attempt to work to earn their free digs for the duration of the show) that's been done 20 or so times already. Its the freaking people that make Jersey Shore so damn amazing.
First off, they all have nicknames. Nicknames like "Snooki" (the roommates sometimes call her "Snickers"), "The Situation", and my personal fave, "Jwoww". Yes, that's "Jwoww" with TWO Ws. Brilliant!! Awsome nicknames aside, its the personalities of the cast that keeps me coming back for more. They're like walking cartoon characters. I find Snooki to be absolutely mesmerizing and the rest of the folks to be completely fascinating as well. Their hair, their tans, their penchant for fist pumping at clubs, their clothing...all so totally interesting. I'd post pics for you all to see what I'm talking about, but they look pretty much as normal as anyone in still photos...except WAY more tan.
I couldn't help thinking about the clothing earlier today when I was shopping with B-rice and AG. We wandered into a store called Metropark. Before today, I'd never heard of this store. After taking a brief survey of the clothing offered, I understood why. SO not my style. Over the top, graphic, Jersey Shore-ish T-shirts, pants and jewelry. And I wasn't alone in my feelings...B-rice looked at me and said, "All I can think of when I look at all this stuff is Jwoww." Hilarious and so true! All of the clothing...soooooo, ummm, Jersey. I mean, I've heard of brands like Affliction before, but now all I can see is The Situation and DJ Pauly D sporting that shit after hitting the tanning salon. No me gusta. We did get a good laugh out of it, though. I honestly can't see why anyone would wear stuff like that, but fashion is a personal thing, I guess.
(As an aside, I walked by J.Jill today and spotted a poster imploring shoppers to "Embrace COLOR!" I looked around quickly and all I saw were muted pastels and beige. COLOR?! Hardly.)
But back to Jersey Shore for a sec...if there is only one hot mess of a TV show that you watch this season, this HAS to be it. My god, its brilliant. Reality TV gold. And MTV even has all of the episodes online, so there is no excuse for not checking it out. You'll laugh, you'll pump your fist in the air, your jaw will drop, and you will feel good about yourself and your life choices. Everyone wins!!
First off, they all have nicknames. Nicknames like "Snooki" (the roommates sometimes call her "Snickers"), "The Situation", and my personal fave, "Jwoww". Yes, that's "Jwoww" with TWO Ws. Brilliant!! Awsome nicknames aside, its the personalities of the cast that keeps me coming back for more. They're like walking cartoon characters. I find Snooki to be absolutely mesmerizing and the rest of the folks to be completely fascinating as well. Their hair, their tans, their penchant for fist pumping at clubs, their clothing...all so totally interesting. I'd post pics for you all to see what I'm talking about, but they look pretty much as normal as anyone in still photos...except WAY more tan.
I couldn't help thinking about the clothing earlier today when I was shopping with B-rice and AG. We wandered into a store called Metropark. Before today, I'd never heard of this store. After taking a brief survey of the clothing offered, I understood why. SO not my style. Over the top, graphic, Jersey Shore-ish T-shirts, pants and jewelry. And I wasn't alone in my feelings...B-rice looked at me and said, "All I can think of when I look at all this stuff is Jwoww." Hilarious and so true! All of the clothing...soooooo, ummm, Jersey. I mean, I've heard of brands like Affliction before, but now all I can see is The Situation and DJ Pauly D sporting that shit after hitting the tanning salon. No me gusta. We did get a good laugh out of it, though. I honestly can't see why anyone would wear stuff like that, but fashion is a personal thing, I guess.
(As an aside, I walked by J.Jill today and spotted a poster imploring shoppers to "Embrace COLOR!" I looked around quickly and all I saw were muted pastels and beige. COLOR?! Hardly.)
But back to Jersey Shore for a sec...if there is only one hot mess of a TV show that you watch this season, this HAS to be it. My god, its brilliant. Reality TV gold. And MTV even has all of the episodes online, so there is no excuse for not checking it out. You'll laugh, you'll pump your fist in the air, your jaw will drop, and you will feel good about yourself and your life choices. Everyone wins!!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Finally...
Back in 2007, on a blog that no longer exists, I wrote about The Slanket. I joked about the lameness of the item...a blanket with sleeves! HA! Silly! And yet, I really wanted one. Like badly. But I just couldn't pull the trigger.
Then, over the years, the inferior Snuggie rose in popularity while the Slanket seemed to lose steam as America's favorite gimmick. Having read this very informative article, I knew there was no way I was going to succumb to the airplane blanket quality and static of the Snuggie. Hell, I relentlessly teased my friends who owned Snuggies. And those RIDICULOUS Snuggie commercials with that stupid dance?! Hell naw. It was the Slanket, or nothing at all. They were still available online, but again, I couldn't pull the trigger.
After demo-ing a Slanket at DJC's mom's house over Christmas, I knew the time had come. When I came home, I ordered one and anxiously awaited its arrival. The day it came, I literally giggled with glee. I eagerly unboxed my moss green beauty and immediately put it on. I then experienced what can only be described as a most excellent feeling of comfort and warmth.
What followed was an extended session of ass-planting. Its strange...its like the Slanket saps my will to do, well, everything. Grocery shopping, classes at the gym, the basic need for food and water...all usurped by the need to just chill. I am so comfortable and warm and LAZY when I am wrapped in its fleecy threads. Its like a big, soft, fleece hug. You know...its one of those hugs where you don't want to be the first person to let go. I think I want to be buried in my Slanket. The feeling...its simply divine. So soft. So gentle. Lovely.
I know I'm raving like a lunatic about a freaking blanket with sleeves, but if you think I'm nuts, its only because you don't have one and could never understand what I'm talking about until you do. I can't believe I waited over two years to finally purchase one. If you're pondering whether or not the Slanket is for you, I can tell you that it is. It absolutely is. You don't even know what you're missing. Order. DO IT. DO IT NOW. You can thank me later. =)
Then, over the years, the inferior Snuggie rose in popularity while the Slanket seemed to lose steam as America's favorite gimmick. Having read this very informative article, I knew there was no way I was going to succumb to the airplane blanket quality and static of the Snuggie. Hell, I relentlessly teased my friends who owned Snuggies. And those RIDICULOUS Snuggie commercials with that stupid dance?! Hell naw. It was the Slanket, or nothing at all. They were still available online, but again, I couldn't pull the trigger.
After demo-ing a Slanket at DJC's mom's house over Christmas, I knew the time had come. When I came home, I ordered one and anxiously awaited its arrival. The day it came, I literally giggled with glee. I eagerly unboxed my moss green beauty and immediately put it on. I then experienced what can only be described as a most excellent feeling of comfort and warmth.
What followed was an extended session of ass-planting. Its strange...its like the Slanket saps my will to do, well, everything. Grocery shopping, classes at the gym, the basic need for food and water...all usurped by the need to just chill. I am so comfortable and warm and LAZY when I am wrapped in its fleecy threads. Its like a big, soft, fleece hug. You know...its one of those hugs where you don't want to be the first person to let go. I think I want to be buried in my Slanket. The feeling...its simply divine. So soft. So gentle. Lovely.
I know I'm raving like a lunatic about a freaking blanket with sleeves, but if you think I'm nuts, its only because you don't have one and could never understand what I'm talking about until you do. I can't believe I waited over two years to finally purchase one. If you're pondering whether or not the Slanket is for you, I can tell you that it is. It absolutely is. You don't even know what you're missing. Order. DO IT. DO IT NOW. You can thank me later. =)
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Still diggin' the Gaga
Ok, I SO love Lady Gaga.
Pop stars of today, take note: bitch can sing. Like really, really well. But if her music isn't your thing (and I can imagine that it wouldn't be for a lot of people...I'm a weirdo), at least let the video load and skip to 3:55. WOW. Just wow.
One day, I will be able to stand on a piano bench in 5" spikes, bent over, with legs that look a mile long and my perfect ass in the air, play the piano and sing. Really well. Damn, that's just so cool. Can't say that I've seen anything like that ever. You go, Gaga. Change the game for the better.
Pop stars of today, take note: bitch can sing. Like really, really well. But if her music isn't your thing (and I can imagine that it wouldn't be for a lot of people...I'm a weirdo), at least let the video load and skip to 3:55. WOW. Just wow.
One day, I will be able to stand on a piano bench in 5" spikes, bent over, with legs that look a mile long and my perfect ass in the air, play the piano and sing. Really well. Damn, that's just so cool. Can't say that I've seen anything like that ever. You go, Gaga. Change the game for the better.
Looking back
2009 was an interesting one for me. I didn't have an actual job for the entire year. By choice. Instead, I spent my time in various classes, fulfilling various requirements, learning new and interesting things and refreshing my knowledge bank. I tried my best. I submitted applications for nursing programs that will hopefully allow me to one day have a job that I love...again. I continued to cheer for the Cal Bears football team, and continued to be let down...just like every other year. I worked out harder than I have since college, but sadly, with less results. DJC and I celebrated our fifth year together, and started making plans for our wedding this year (YAY!!). I bought my wedding dress. As a couple, we grew closer than ever and faced a number of very difficult challenges together. We traveled, although not all that far. We ate lots. We laughed endlessly. We cried. He dried my tears. We made the best of the situation. Somehow, we've managed not to kill our downstairs neighbors and have resolved to allow them to upset us less. We're going to do our best to simply ignore their pathetic presence (although currently, I can hear exactly what video game the shitlets are playing as well as their fat little squeals of glee from time to time) and do the things that make us happy. I kissed my parents goodbye and hoped that their road trip across the country was uneventful and their new life in Florida makes them truly happy. I miss them. Terribly. I've read a lot. I've written a lot. I started a reality TV blog with my best friend from the seventh grade and had a wonderful lunch with her after not seeing each other for close to 20 years. Thanks to the wonders of Facebook, I connected with tons of long lost friends...and even made a few new ones.
All in all, I can't complain. 2009 wasn't the greatest year ever, but it wasn't terrible, either. I can't wait to see how all of the decisions and choices I made in 2009 work out for me in 2010. I can't wait to be Mrs. DJC. However things may go, I feel positive and excited to see what the future holds. I'd just like to finally root for a winning college football team for once. How about it, Bears? Can you make all my dreams come true? ;)
All in all, I can't complain. 2009 wasn't the greatest year ever, but it wasn't terrible, either. I can't wait to see how all of the decisions and choices I made in 2009 work out for me in 2010. I can't wait to be Mrs. DJC. However things may go, I feel positive and excited to see what the future holds. I'd just like to finally root for a winning college football team for once. How about it, Bears? Can you make all my dreams come true? ;)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Eye spy
This, ladies and gentlemen, is a textbook example of a subconjuctival hemorrhage. I have no Earthly idea how it happened. Although it looks gnarly, I can assure you that it doesn't hurt at all. This isn't like the time when I dislocated my kneecap and didn't really notice until much later...I honestly have NO idea what I could have done to cause this. Other than sneeze. But damn it, I sneeze like 5 times daily and this is the first time I've ever had this happen. Its crazy. I noticed the very corner of redness while brushing my teeth and was like, WTF?!?
If you're totally grossed out by the pic, let me know and I'll take the image down and re-word the post. I know pictures of eyes can creep some folks out. Funny thing is that I am totally one of those people. Injuries to the eye were always difficult for me to stomach back in the day.
Anyways, that's the most exciting thing in my life lately. So exciting. I know.
Monday, January 4, 2010
In which I come up for air...
Wisconsin. Snow. Freezing rain. Intolerably cold. Indoor crowding, which of course means indoor smoking. Come July 2010, this will no longer be an issue in bars and restaurants. Definitely a step in the right direction, but unfortunately this means that certain members of DJC's family will just have to smoke that much more in their homes and cars. If that's possible. Cue one seriously stuffy nose...
Not sure when this happened, but I cannot STAND second-hand smoke. Funny, because I used to "smoke" (in quotes because no matter how many times I tried, I just couldn't get into it. At all. Yes, this begs the question, "Why did I keep trying to pick up a nasty habit like smoking in the first place?" The answer is because...well...who knows. I certainly don't.). Anyways, me and cigarettes don't get along so well. I used not to even notice. Now, I do. I really freaking do.
Our sleeping arrangements for the beginning of the trip involved staying in two houses that had been smoked in constantly for years. I don't care how many fans you turn on, that smell works its way into EVERYTHING, from carpets, to towels and most annoyingly, bedding. It doesn't help that I couldn't just open a window to get some fresh air. Too cold for that. The minute I walked into that house, my nose clogged up and made life pretty miserable.
You see, for more years than I care to admit, I've been addicted to nasal spray (for those of you who know me in real life, this should come as no surprise). About three weeks before our trip, I decided to give it up once and for all, and had been doing fairly well thanks to a genius product called Rhinostat. I was almost done with the system. And I was so happy about it. But once I was exposed to stale (and fresh) cigarette smoke, all of my progress went out the window. I couldn't breathe through my nose and I most certainly couldn't sleep. I was getting zero relief from my Rhinostat kit and it was only the first day of the trip! I cried. Seriously.
The second half of our trip involved staying in a house that has never been smoked in...nay, has never been so much as farted in. The air, despite the lack of moisture, was clean. And sure enough, I cleared right up and could breathe again. I got a good night's sleep, and I started to believe that I could really kick the habit once and for all.
Since returning to the heavenly moist air of sea level, I've been doing even better still. Its so funny how I always took breathing through my nose for granted. If I got stuffy, I could always fix it with my trusty bottle of Sinex. But no more. And as sensitive as my nose has always been, my sense of smell is even better these days. My blood pressure's down too.
The thing is that nasal spray addiction is a VERY common problem that happens to A LOT of people. Doctors rarely know how to help their patients who confide that they're hooked. Most people are too embarrassed to ask for help. I certainly was. Its not like an addiction to pain killers or other drugs. This is a weird one with very few treatment options other than giving it up cold turkey. As you can imagine, cold turkey isn't really an option at all. I'm thrilled to have found the Rhinostat system and can't say enough good things about how easy it is to use. The best part is that it works. It really works.
I'm close to being free of this crap. And it feels good. Fingers crossed that I don't come into contact with people who smoke indoors in the near future!
Not sure when this happened, but I cannot STAND second-hand smoke. Funny, because I used to "smoke" (in quotes because no matter how many times I tried, I just couldn't get into it. At all. Yes, this begs the question, "Why did I keep trying to pick up a nasty habit like smoking in the first place?" The answer is because...well...who knows. I certainly don't.). Anyways, me and cigarettes don't get along so well. I used not to even notice. Now, I do. I really freaking do.
Our sleeping arrangements for the beginning of the trip involved staying in two houses that had been smoked in constantly for years. I don't care how many fans you turn on, that smell works its way into EVERYTHING, from carpets, to towels and most annoyingly, bedding. It doesn't help that I couldn't just open a window to get some fresh air. Too cold for that. The minute I walked into that house, my nose clogged up and made life pretty miserable.
You see, for more years than I care to admit, I've been addicted to nasal spray (for those of you who know me in real life, this should come as no surprise). About three weeks before our trip, I decided to give it up once and for all, and had been doing fairly well thanks to a genius product called Rhinostat. I was almost done with the system. And I was so happy about it. But once I was exposed to stale (and fresh) cigarette smoke, all of my progress went out the window. I couldn't breathe through my nose and I most certainly couldn't sleep. I was getting zero relief from my Rhinostat kit and it was only the first day of the trip! I cried. Seriously.
The second half of our trip involved staying in a house that has never been smoked in...nay, has never been so much as farted in. The air, despite the lack of moisture, was clean. And sure enough, I cleared right up and could breathe again. I got a good night's sleep, and I started to believe that I could really kick the habit once and for all.
Since returning to the heavenly moist air of sea level, I've been doing even better still. Its so funny how I always took breathing through my nose for granted. If I got stuffy, I could always fix it with my trusty bottle of Sinex. But no more. And as sensitive as my nose has always been, my sense of smell is even better these days. My blood pressure's down too.
The thing is that nasal spray addiction is a VERY common problem that happens to A LOT of people. Doctors rarely know how to help their patients who confide that they're hooked. Most people are too embarrassed to ask for help. I certainly was. Its not like an addiction to pain killers or other drugs. This is a weird one with very few treatment options other than giving it up cold turkey. As you can imagine, cold turkey isn't really an option at all. I'm thrilled to have found the Rhinostat system and can't say enough good things about how easy it is to use. The best part is that it works. It really works.
I'm close to being free of this crap. And it feels good. Fingers crossed that I don't come into contact with people who smoke indoors in the near future!
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