Scalding Liquid, Evil Cherry, A New Allergy and Le Boif's Bass

As we (I) speak (type), I'm struggling to drink my lovely mug of Nestle Matcha Latte, from a mug that looks very pretty and all that, but I must say, it cannot be called practical. It conducts heat like crazy! Especially the handle and the rim! Much burn, ah scald! If only I had a nice desk (well, I do have one of those) and a lovely computer with one of those lovely Mac keyboards, and le boif being somehow quiet in the room with me. Ahhhhh... My idea of heaven...

Anyway, back to business. I think I should re-title my blog "A Series of Unfortunate Little Lady Events", as within the past week, I've been scorched out of my being, my wrist went all bat-siúcra, and yesterday my first ever consumption of a single cherry didn't go so well...

As per usual, allow me to set the scene: it's a lovely, not too hot morning, and I'm over with le boif. As I glance at the table, I see a bowl of handsome-looking cherries, nearly as handsome as le boif himself, practically inviting me to try one, before leaving the room. Also on my mind was that 'tying-a-cherry-stalk-in-a knot-with-your-tongue' thing, so I decide it must be done. I munch the yummy cherry and slip the stalk in my pocket for later antics. Not long after, I began to notice my top lip grow all weird and tingly, and half of it was suddenly swollen. Immediately I thought: allergy, having witnessed my silly little younger sister's unfortunate peanut allergy not even a year previous, that resulted in a pyjama clad trip to the emergency room. So I scanned my brain for everything I'd eaten that morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I forgot that one casual cherry, and I mean, who's ever heard of a cherry allergy anyway? So I tried to forget about my puffy lip and hives I'd developed, and my nauseated tummy, and enjoy snuggly cuddle time with le boif. It took me the entire day, and some of the evening to cop on. It wasn't until silly little me was lying on her bed, fiddling with the cherry stalk in her mouth, that she saw the light.

So now I'm allergic to cherries. Darn. I thought I'd gotten away Scot free from all the bad genes of asthma and allergies. And the crazy thing is, I'm not allergic to anything most people are allergic to. Oh no. I could each tonnes of peanut flavoured shellfish and I'd be fine, but one little cherry. Who'dda thought, eh?

*unintentional real life gasp* I just remembered I've been neglecting my Matcha. Ahhhh, ver' taste.

In regards to today, I've been a lazy little lady, besides socialising with our guests over from England, I did naught but bass, and my weeny baby tapered fingies hate me for it. Blisters galore. And by galore, I mean I may possibly have a tiny one. I don't have a bassy of my own, but I have a boif of my own, with two bassies of his own, so, by extension, and have a temporary bassy. It's quite handy having le boif around. He's a keeper alright.