Blog Credo

The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.

H.L. Mencken

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Off Topic: Spring Allergies


Spring - meaning temperatures of over 45 degrees fahrenheit and intermittent sunshine - has come to New England.  As creepy Jeff Goldblum said in Jurassic Park, "Life will find a way," so even though it's still cold most morning, trees are budding, flowers are blooming, grass is growing and my head feels like a soccer ball after the Spanish national team has had a kick-around.  Furious Rojos indeed.

After a long, cold and immensely snow filled winter, I was looking forward to spring, and each year about this time, I remember why I don't actually like spring as much as I should.  I mean, my AP exams are Friday and Tuesday, after which, I am effectively done teaching and grading until the AP reading in June.  The weather is warm, so Thing One and Thing Two can take their particular brand of fratricidal mayhem outside.  The Hound of the Basketcase and I can for for walks in the waking forests.  What's not to love?

Pollen.  That's what not to love.

It means I must forsake the Radiant and Fair Love Of My Life's bedchamber and sleep in the guest room, because my breathing starts to sound like a Harley Davidson with a glass-packed muffler.  It means I wake up intermittently unable to breath.  It means my eyes weep tears neither of joy nor sorrow, but pain.  It means that even a refreshing beer can interact with my anti-histamine to make me feel like a wanna-be method actor in The Hangover.

It also means I will reach at any straw to try and alleviate my symptoms.  Recently I bought a homeopathic nasal spray that is made of eucalyptus oil and capsacein , which is the stuff that makes peppers hot.  In effect I am pepper spraying my nasal cavity.

The pain is excruciating; I have no idea if the spray is clearing my sinuses or if it's the adrenaline from the agony of voluntarily macing myself.  And then the eucalyptus oil kicks in as I snort in the spray.  The resulting experience is like a Mexican koala bear sprayed volcanic diarrhea into the back of my throat.

But I can breathe for four hours or so, so whatever, bring it on, Mexican koala bear.

UPDATE: CNN reporting: Bin Laden still dead.

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