Livin' La Vida Loca

I am crazy.

For those of you that know me, even a little bit, this is no flabbergasting shock.

Mary Brette, one of my closest. I'm the girl on the right, the one who looks glazed over and mildly insane. 

But they say there is a good crazy. Crazy people make things happen, apparently. 

If there is one compliment/insult I've heard over and over again since I could understand, it has been something along the wild/nuts/crazy line. 

So there is a very specific formula I use to get back to this deranged phenomenon. I'll break it down for you:

-not much sleep

-a pinch of selfishness

-travel during a certain time of the month

-no AC when it suddenly gets hot, all of a sudden, out of nowhere--like really hot

-some kind of virus that weakened the immune system in the beginning of a fun trip to a big city to see family and friends

-oh and allergies that almost drown one in one's own mucus

-drinking when you really don't drink that much anymore (I'm serious, not that much, that's not a joke)

This drink is called the Gettysburg Address: a botanical vodka, beet puree, ginger syrup, Veev Acai, fresh lemon.  Had it this past weekend in Washington DC. 

I was feeling fancy and fine, teetotalling on my barstool. FLASH OF INSPIRATION (this just happened as I typed that): I'm totally into tea. Tea Totaller: A Tea Bar. Oh my goodness. 

Anyway, there I was. Looking at the bar menu--looked delicious. And that drink was my first and last decision on that menu. I had one past my limit, which was one. I would have had about 17. Just for the pure taste of it. I tell you no lie: the best drink I've ever had. Then off the night goes. When a gal like me has more than one, I usually stop. But in celebration of happy life events for both of the close friends I was with and in ecstasy at being in a city with so many people (although at the same time a panic attack), we kept on joyously, and it was a fun night. 

The next morning was not the most fun. But look see, I had a delectable brunch. Kale and eggs on a polenta patty with truffle parmesan fries. At a place called Firefly.

This meal and my bloatedness created the effect of a premature, fast-moving pregnancy.  The pop belly came on strong. I can't say I didn't smile at the stares and hold the underside of my belly in a nurturing way. 

Walking back from brunch I saw this beauty. Golden retriever. This was not my first moment of homesickness for my both of my babies at home. 

So this little recipe for disaster did not serve me when I returned to my home. 

Apparently, this is the worst allergy season ever. EVER? They don't even have anything to compare it to. They are just saying ever. Not since 1995. Or 1917. Just plain ever. 

The worst place in the worst season ever? Oh yeah, the area that I'm in: Jackson, MS and the surrounding areas. Great. My husband is an asthmatic farmer. 

And I'm puffy like a marshmellow, coughing up colors of the rainbow, blowing my nose 17,177,117 times a day. Sometimes I can't talk. Sometimes I can't breathe. Sometimes it's both. Hell, sometimes I can't hear or talk or see. I'm like all three bad little monkies in one crazy woman with an immune system that seems to be off like a gypsy, on its own little trip. 

My holistic answer to this mess? ACV: Anti-Crazy Vaccine. 

Otherwise known as Apple Cider Vinegar, with the mother. Take a shot of a few tablespoons of the stuff in organic, unfiltered form (try to return to normal life after 5 minutes, don't spend too much time with your whole face scrunched up for aesthetic purposes--wrinkles, try to loosen up after your body stiffens like a board, hold back the temptation to spit it onto a person close by--just don't do it in front of other people actually) with a little bit of water and some local honey.

Local honey. Mississippi representing on the Mall.

When it comes to allergies, it's livin' la vida local. Get that local honey in your system. Eat it with peanut butter, put it in your tea you teatotaller, best be puttin' it in your ACV if you don't want to punch a wall out after you shoot it, spread it on top of your eyelids, stick it down into your ears, wipe down with it after a bath and get in a naked wrestling match with your partner. I'm just kidding. Or am I?

I just wanted to confirm for everyone that I was crazy.

We're all working on our craziness. Whether towards it or away from it, I don't know.

Locally,

Liza Jane