Candy corn

Teehee, the saga of Becky’s concierge freaking out over a package of candy corn, suspecting it was anthrax, made my day. Also, the concierge must be an idiot, since anthrax is usually in powder form instead of lumpy, candy corn shaped form. I think M. Le Concierge was more nosy than worried.

I can just imagine the snotty French cop, too. Once Rufus and I lost each other in a crowd in Paris, and he went to the cops to ask for help. The cops basically told him that I had obviously dumped him for some [far more attractive] French guy, and go away. It was really hard for Rufus to resist punching the guy, but he did. And eventually he remembered the name of the hotel, got some help in working the pay phone, and called me, to my utter relief. I have to say, though, French cops have always been nice to me.

Cold or allergies?

I spent the entire weekend hating my nose more than Jennifer Grey does/did. I probably sneezed violently fifteen times a day and used up half a box of Kleenex, with the result that said nose and its immediate surroundings are red and flaky, an undelightful combination and pretty hard to hide under make-up. I feel like Marcia Brady in the episode where she gets hit in the face with a football right before her Big Date and they keep replaying her crying out mournfully, “Oh, my nose!” I don’t know if it’s a cold, or if I suddenly and inexplicably have allergies. Apparently, you can just develop allergies out of nowhere, and it would be just my luck to be allergic to cats and/or dust, since we have 4 cats and live in a 75 year old building.

I’m kind of hoping it’s a cold, since that should have a limited lifespan, but other than being nasally challenged, I have no other symptoms. If it’s allergies, that means endless annoyoing doctor’s appointments, first to the doctor to get referred to the allergist (where they will weigh me and measure me and tell me I’m 4 feet tall and 200 pounds), then the allergist, then the testing…and I have managed to avoid going to the doctor for about 3 years now. If I were really paranoid and/or believed in higher powers who were actually interested in the miniutiae of my life, I’d suspect the onslaught of allergies was sent just to make me get a damn check-up.