'What's wrong with YOU?!' An Allergic Horror Story

I've never, ever had an allergy before. I always felt so sad for the people I knew who were allergic to milk or carpet or sunshine. I counted it a bragging right that I was invincible when it came to food. I could eat anything! Right on!
But....nevermore. I think I'm allergic to nacho cheese.
You know. The gross, rubbery yellow stuff that resembles the dairy product? You put it on your chips at games and parties and such, and you have to eat it fast before your chips get soggy and disintegrate. It comes plain, mild, medium and hot. You put jalapenos in it if you're extra cool. I guess I won't ever get that chance, though. I have my first allergy.

Last night, I went to a family dinner at my aunt's house. Dinner was a hard-core taco bar, fully stocked with chips and all kinds of toppings. Being the girl that I am (meaning always, always hungry and never really concerned with the consequences of eating constantly), I shoveled it down as soon as I arrived. It was oh-so-satisfying, and instead of shouting at me for my negligence, my stomach gurbled happily. (I'm very in tune with my body, as you can tell.)

Unfortunately, I discovered soon after eating that my stomach was deceiving me. Not only was IT unhappy, but my whole body had begun a very slow but alarming revolt. Talking to my cousins, I became aware of a terrible itch right below my right forefinger. I didn't think anything of it until it started spreading. When I examined my hand, I noticed that it was red, itching and swollen to a very noticeable degree. I mentioned it to my mom somewhat apathetically - "Somethin's wrong with my hand...look at that." And didn't really think anything more of it. Soon, however, I felt even more incessant pressure in my fingers, and upon further examination, I found my right hand to be about 25% bigger than my left.

My cousins and I went through everything I had eaten, and tried to narrow it down to something I might be allergic to. We didn't draw any conclusions, but in thinking about it more, I believe I've discovered the culprit...nacho cheese.
I became more inclined to pin it down when I woke up at three in the morning and threw up everything I had eaten the day before. Let me tell, you, there is NOTHING worse than throwing up. I would rather have my whole body swell up like a balloon than spend 15 minutes bent over a cold, unfeeling toilet bowl, shaking and expelling things you only see when you are bent over in such a manner. My stomach turns just thinking about it.

So, readers, it is now 2nd period, and I am at home in my jammies, hating nacho cheese. If someone could bring my Physics homework to me, that would be awesome.

Why My Future Daughters Will Play Little League Sports

Okay. So today my school played host to a dance competition for little girls in Davis County. I didn't have any part in it, as the extent of my dance ability is confined to head banging and the Beginner level in DDR. I didn't even have to watch. But the whole ordeal, with the posters and the concessions and the sparkly leotards for sale and the little girls plastered with makeup, made me SO angry.

The world of competetive dance, especially here in Utah, is like a jungle. Only the strongest and bravest survive, and if you are weak, cry easily, or harbor a physical need for food and water, you are automatically unfit. Ever see the movie Mean Girls? That scene where all the girls in the high school go bananas and start attacking each other? It's JUST like that. Not high school, particularly, but definetly the dance community. The young woman who can dance and stay out of that trap is a very rare, very lucky girl. It is tough! It's such a high-pressure, competetive environment, one that makes 16 and 17 year old girls cry on a daily basis. They cry for all kinds of reasons, not just that dancing automatically makes their lives dramatic. They cry because the skin on their scalps is being rubbed raw and peeling off. They cry because every day is a new battle to stay thin and gorgeous. If you don't feel like being gorgeous, too bad. You suck it up, suck it in, and be that superstar that Mommy knows you are! They cry because their muscles are torn and hyperextended, and there's a teacher in front of them, yelling that they can't stop or they can find another instructor. They come home every night worn-out, dehydrated, and without a normal teenage exsistance.
Wanna know the worst part? In order to get to this point, these girls have been doing that since they were three.
They woke up, pulled on their sparly outfits, painted their faces and glued on fake eyelashes, to go to a competition at some high school. When they were three.

These are CHILDREN! These girls are pulling their little bodies around in ways that little girls' bodies are not yet physically equiped to handle! Little bodies are not meant to do those things! I guess it's not going to kill them, but when they get older, are they going to have issues with their muscles and tendons?
I don't have a huge argument to pitch about the physical aspect. What bothers me more is the social, psycological part. These precious little people are being thrust into an environment where they are forced to compete, and they compete to WIN! In this community, they learn that it is not okay to lose. They learn that losing is avoidable, and that if you are living up to all you can be, it will not happen to you. They are being taught to compete with other girls in a vicious way. Do you remember your little league soccer games when you were a kid? No matter who won, at the end of the game, you all lined up and slapped hands with the other team? "Good game, good game, good game, good game..." Dance isn't like that! It's about WINNING. Eyes on the prize. It doesn't matter if your twin sister is in the opposing company, you will WIN at all costs. Only the best girls win, and only the winners are worth a scrap of flourescent pink spandex.
These girls are learning to compete against each other on the dance floor, and it hurts their ability to keep friends. They are also learning that hey MUST win to be accepted. Those little dears have a rude awakening headed their way when they realize that losing HAPPENS. No matter how cool you are or how hard you work, you will FAIL at one point in your life. Fact of life, Little One. These girls are missing that lesson. We need to be teaching them that no matter how sucky their last routine was, they are still beautiful, wonderful little people! They need to know that they are loved and prized by other people because of who they are, not how well they perform.

Walking out of my last class, I saw a little girl (probably no older than five) in a full split, wearing fake eyelashes and enough glitter hairspray to style the entire cast of The Lion King on Broadway. She looked cute, I guess, as her mother gave her a pep talk. Eyes on the prize. Sure, I guess it was cute. I thought it was sad. Wouldn't that little girl SO much rather be eating a cupcake and coloring? Heck, I wanted to be eating a cupcake and coloring, but I am 17! I can't justify it, but SHE can.

Oh dear. I wish I could stop the music, steal a microphone, and will those mini-stars out of that place.
Carpe Diem, Girls! Sieze the Day.
Say No to competetive dance.

As heard on the Band Trip

"Oh, Heck Flippin Dammit-DANGIT! I mean dangit!.....But that's what they saaaay!"

"Casey! Where are your pants?!"

"Tiara, we have to be at the bus in five minutes! Why are you still naked?!"

"I'm watching you."

"Honey, what happened to your savings?" "Uh...I uh...I dunno." (three days later) "eBay finally came!" "what's that, honey?" "It's a Storm Trooper costume." "....HONEY!"

"Guys, I have some REALLY bad news. We haven't let the maid in for two days, and we are out of toilet paper." "....That is very bad news."

"I'll go to the Dans with you!"

"You're not Indiana Jones! You're a butthead!"

"You look like princess Leia...that means we get to see you in a metal bikini!!"

"Hey, is the Princess a babe? If she is, I'll fight in the tournament!"

"Dani, I'm really your number one fan, that's why it says your name on the back of my shirt." -Chaston

"DisneylaaaaaaaaandDisneylaaaaaaaaandDisneylaaaaaaaaaaandDISNEYLAAAAAAAND! ....Hey, it worked!"

"One hundred and two! Hundred and three! Hundred and four!"

"What's that Mr. Chaston?! You can't swim? Oh, shoot, I'll save you, I just have to go get my group of four! ...... Okay Chaston, we're here to save you! Let's count off! ONE! TWO! ....Crap, where's number three?! Oh, YEAH, number three is in the bus, sad because he can't touch the water! What's that Chaston? Save you? Oh...well...I would, but...someone told me I can't get in the water! I gotta go get my light jacket!"

"That's my boyfriend."

"Mr. Burt, nobody really wants to talk to you right now."

"BLACK AND WHITE KNOWS HOW TO FIGHT!"

"George, your last name is now Smith, and you are thirty-one."

"And then...he burped."

"IT'S A SMALL WORLD AAAAAFTER AAAAA- NOOOOOOOO!"

"I really am Han Solo."

"Obviously, band parents love their children more than orchestra parents." -Chaston

"You guys, I'm leaving."

"I need a bathroom....NOW."

"Tiara, I have a crush on every boy. What am I gonna do?"

"BANGBNAGBANG! BANG BANG! BANGBABANGBANGBABABANG!"

"Oh...hello, Mr. Burt, I wasn't expecting you. Which is...why I'm standing...here...in my pajamas...and no bra."

"It doesn't matter. You can scream all you want, it won't change anything. They already know who's going to win." (one hour later) "GGOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAH GOGOGOGO GOOOO! WOOOHOOOO! AAAAAH BLACKANDWHITE WAAAAAAAH! THIS IS AWESOME! GAAAHGOOOOOOOO!" -Thomas

"I'm still finding food in my shirt."

"It smells like gym socks down here..."

"Good attitude?! Don't talk to me about good attitude! Wanna know where my good attitude went?! It's ON THE BEACH!!!!"

"It's cause I'm fat."

"You guys, I have like six concussions cause of Becca's mom. Now shut up and be quiet so I can go to bed."

"Dani! Your SHOE!"

"She screamed, 'Becca' the WHOLE time."

"I bet he crapped his pants!"

"Anthony, dude, you can't go in that one."

"Casey, Becca wants to know why you're mad." "I'm not mad." "He says he's not mad." "Oh, okay." "She says okay."

"I wasn't trying to pinch his butt, I was trying to lift up his shirt!"

"If she had pinched your butt, it would feel like this."

"AIIIIDA! AIIIIDA!"

"Danger around every turn!" "I eat danger for BREAKFAST!" "Are you hungry?!" "STARVING!"

"...only one napkin?"

"Sorry guys, I was pooped."

"Waka wakaaaa!"

"Hey Becca, will you get my phone out of my back pocket?"

"CAROLE SLAPPED MY BUTT!"

Instant Karma

I have a mosquito bite.

I'll never complain again.

How cruel the world is.

Longing

I WANT SUMMER!

The weather is teasing me. I look out my window in the morning and let the sun shine into my room. It's gorgeous, and I missed it dreadfully....winter was SO long. HOWEVER, even though the sun is bright and deliciously warm, going outside still requires a jacket! I am sick of this pretense! Bring me the sunshine AND the warmth of summer! I am tired of coordinating my outfits with jacket involved. I am ready to throw on a t-shirt and shorts and sandals!
I want to get a pedicure and not have to cover it up with socks!
I want to eat ice cream and not be cold for the next day and a half!
I want to be SO excruciatingly hot that I speed all the way to Jamba Juice and gulp it down in four seconds! Then I'll get another one! Then I'll go to Grandpa's and beg for popsicles like I did when I was five! He'll give them to me, and they'll hit the spot like they always have.
I want a tan line in the shape of my favorite flip-flops, which are gathering dust in my closet. I want Lagoon to open, I want to sleep outside, I want to go camping, I want to hear the sound of lawns being mowed and smell fresh-cut grass! (I don't want to be responsible for the fresh-cut grass, though. Please.)

I WANT A SUNBURN! I want to feel the sun beating on my skin, and consider for a moment how old I will be when I die of skin cancer. Then I want to decide that I don't care, because my beach towel is comfortable and I can't reach the sunscreen from where I'm laying! When Mom wakes me up and says, "You look like a tomato! Go inside!" I will refuse, and dive back into the pool or lake...because...water protects your skin, right? At least it feels like it should. So I'll continue fooling myself, and bring 3 bottles of Aloe Vera gel with me every time I leave the house. It's worth it! I want that sunburn!

I am not looking forward to exactly 2 things this summer. 1 - Mosquito bites. I can't fool myself into thinking those are pleasant. Not at all. 2 - Waking up early. My new job will require me to be at work at 8:30 in the morning. I will most likely resent that. But! I will be spending the day with 3 adorable children, getting sunburns and playing preschool games. My favorite things!

So, readers, I sit here at the computer, in flannel jammies and a microfleece blanket around my shoulders, which hasn't left that spot in over 3 months. I look outside, and the sun beckons me outside. The spring breeze whispers promises of warmth, and gorgeous white clouds adorn the enticing, deep blue sky.

I will not subject myself to this torture any longer.
I'm going back to bed.

Favorite Things, Number 5

21. The indispensable humor of Jack Black. I watched Nacho Libre with my friends yesterday, and I was the only one laughing my head off. Seriously, how is that NOT the funniest movie you've ever seen? Nacho Libre, Kung Foo Panda, and VERY select few (as in, like, two) Tenacious D songs, are just ridiculously hilarious.
22. Reconciliation. I talked to Boy17 for the first time in a long time, and had a...a...what was that called? Oh! A NORMAL conversation! Nobody was mad, nobody was crying. It was a little tense, which is to be expected, but I feel much better now - nobody likes to be hated, after all, and that conversation was a clue that I am not. At least not by Boy17, who could probably send me to the hospital with a flick of his finger. Nice to know.
23. Lazy Days. On Thursday, I wore glasses, a ponytail and my Utah State t-shirt. It was awesome.
24. The incredible people of this world who don't really know they're being watched. One of my friends made a prom dress out of newspaper, complete with newspaper shoes and hat. As she walked through the halls at school with the getup over her regular clothes, some people stared, some scoffed, but most people just smiled and wondered. Kim, this adorable girl, always does things like this. She's the one who you talk about when you're in the car going home. "Ohmygosh, did you see Kim today?! That was SO funny!" But what stands out about Kim is not necessarily her newspaper clothing or her sequin-tye-dyed leggings she wore to that one Stake Dance. It's her character. Her friendliness, her ability to lift people with her smile (or....her outfit). I truly admire someone like that.
On Friday, I trudged to the SBO elections assembly, where a few of my friends were giving election speeches. Greg, who is running for SB President, gave his speech in the form of a full out rap, with the help of his campaign manager Derek, who was wearing suspenders and Harry Potter glasses. Greg is tall, lanky and very white. He is usually seen around school in a U of U shirt and khakis, with a big textbook and a brown lunch sack. Friday, though, he was in a huge hoodie, sunglasses and bling. Sharp, intelligent Greg...rapping in front of the entire student body. I was impressed by is sick skills, obviously, but more for the same reason I am impressed with Kim. Greg's the friendliest person you'll ever meet. He doesn't use his intelligence to one-up anybody, and doesn't think he's above anyone else in the world...as demonstrated by his public tribute to Vanilla Ice. These people are awesome, and they don't even know their impact. I hope they learn one day how many lives they were able to touch. Thanks to Kim, Greg and everybody like them.
25. Being 1/4 of the way done with your goal of blogging 100 of your favorite things.