Tag Archives: allergies

My Beautiful Laundrette


Double whammy of crappiness! I went to bed early last night (well, midnight – early for me) so I would get up early and have time to do all of my annoying Sunday chores. I did indeed wake up early, only to find that I’d started my period and that I was having trouble breathing. I do have asthma, and allergies, but when I have asthma symptoms in the morning it can usually only mean one thing – mould spores! I checked a pollen count website and, sure enough, mould is high. Can someone please tell me how it is possible for there to be mould spores in the middle of a fucking State-wide drought? Doesn’t all the heat and sun get rid of those wee fuckers?!

Ugh. I felt so tired and crappy that I actually went back to bed for a while, and only felt well enough to get out of bed around  noon. So much for “carpe diem” and making the most of my Sunday. In a short while, I will force myself to go for a run (no small feat give that it’s 104 degrees Fahrenheit – 40 degrees Celsius, my European friends) and then there will be the highlight of my Sunday – doing the laundry and replacing the litter in the cat litter boxes.

We don’t have a washing machine, so I am forced to go a local laundromat or laundrette, as we call them back in the motherland.

I know that laundromats are a necessary evil, but it seems to me like they have been invented to make me even more depressed about my life.  The only “normal” people in laundromats are students; everybody else is just plain weird and creepy. When I was nineteen, and on a “gap year” in New York State, a black guy even sat down beside me in one, and started masturbating. It was quite depressing that I saw my first black penis under such circumstances!

It wouldn’t actually have been so bad if he had just marched up, whipped it out, and started going at it. That would have been disturbing, yes, but at least I would have had a choice to leave. What really happened was that I sat down, read a book for a while, and was only vaguely aware of someone sitting next to me. Gradually, I sensed that something wasn’t quite right, and when I looked to my left, I saw a guy with his cock in his hand. It wasn’t really the cock that disturbed me, though; it was the creepy, sleazy smile he gave me that grossed me out, and the thought that I had unwittingly been dragged into his little perverse fantasy. Ugh!

Never been a big fan of laundromats since. They do seem to attract an undesirable male element. Makes sense in a way: you’ve got a captive female audience.

On another note, I’ve signed up again to write every day in August as part of NaBloPoMo

I wasn’t going to at first, as I know I have a terrible tendency to take too much on – and writing every day is such a terrible commitment for a perfectionist like me – but I miss blogging, and I think it’s good for me to do it more often. Sometimes it just seems so terribly self-indulgent to write about my little life and my little problems, though. It makes me feel that I’m some little self-obsessed teenager who can’t look beyond herself. Who could possibly be interested in me and my boring life?

From time to time, I’ll read blogs like Bella Caledonia and I’ll come away from them thinking that I, too, should write about more “worthwhile” stuff. I care about all of the issues discussed on that blog, but, if I’m truly honest with myself, I’d much rather read a blog like the Cat Girl Speaks. True, Cat doesn’t write about anything of earth-shattering “importance”, and sometimes I don’t care to read about what dress or make-up she’s bought, but her writing is compelling, and I always want to know what’s going to happen next. Will she find love?! Will her mum stop being a bitch?! It’s a very personal blog, but I can relate to it on so many levels as a woman. It goes beyond the personal, then, and if that ain’t political, then I don’t know what is.

I guess this is just my way of saying that I’m going to try to post every day – or as much as I can- because it’s good for me, and I’m going to try not to give a fuck what anyone thinks of me.

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No, I haven’t given up …


photo

… I just got bored of the sound of my own voice. Plus, I’ve been pretty sick with allergies, so much so that I wake up every night not being able to breathe.

Not that this stops me. I’m out drinking in one of my favourite bars.

I guess I’ll come back tomorrow.

Composed on my iPhone, so please excuse any typos!

Atchoo! Atchoum! Hatschie!


bidet

The title of my post refers to the sound you make when you sneeze (in English, French and German respectively). Yup, I’ve got allergies again. Ugh! This is awful. Will there ever be an end to whatever it is in the air that’s making me so miserable?! I refuse to take any anti-histamines, as I like to avoid medication whenever possible. Instead, I’ve just been using my neti pot. Apparently neti pots have been flying off the shelves ever since Oprah featured them on her show last year.

Sometimes I realize just how much Midwestern Man must really love me because he actually sat in the bathroom and watched me use my neti pot, and appeared not to be grossed out. For those of you who don’t know what a neti pot is, you’re essentially washing your nose out. It doesn’t look pretty. Snot just drips out everywhere.

I wonder if there will be a time when Midwestern Man and I will feel comfortable taking a shit in front of each other. It would almost be kind of endearing and sweet if we could. I don’t know if I could ever do it, though. Whenever I was in the early stages of a relationship, I always hated having to take a crap in my boyfriend’s place. I’d be really worried he’d hear the “plop” sound, so much so that I’d stuff the loo with toilet paper to disguise it! Ha ha! When I lived in Berlin, I knew this Swiss girl who told me that she once spent three whole days at her new boyfriend’s house, and didn’t take a shit the whole time because she was too worried about stinking up the bathroom! The shit she had when she got back home must have been the most enjoyable of her life! It’s funny because that detail is the only thing I really remember about that girl. I’ve forgotten everything else about her.

Wow, how on earth did I get started writing about shit? Not that I mind that really, but that wasn’t the plan for tonight’s post. No, instead I was just going to say “goodnight” (I’m off to bed to read) and to tell you to recommend a book for my new Blogger Bookgroup idea. Come on! Stop dilly-dallying, people! Just do it!

The smell of coffee


I didn’t get out of bed until 1:00 p.m. today, which wasn’t entirely surprising seeing as I was up until 4:00 a.m. doing God knows what on the internet. Just surfing aimlessly really, trying to make myself feel better about the fight I had with my husband last night. On the other hand, it isn’t like me to sleep for nine hours straight. At the very most I need seven hours’ sleep, and I can usually function perfectly well on five if I need to. Recently, though, I’ve been sleeping a lot.

I don’t think it’s that I’m depressed (although I probably am on some mild level), so I’m going to put it down to my allergies, and not having enough money to eat properly. For the last month or so, I’ve definitely been feeling malnourished. I don’t think Midwestern Man quite gets just how hungry I have been recently. He doesn’t eat all that much less than me, but we have very different body types and metabolisms, it would seem. If I don’t eat, I get tired, irritable, emotional and depressed very quickly. If I don’t have breakfast in the morning, I’ll literally collapse with fatigue by around 10:00 a.m. I just don’t understand people (like my husband, actually) who are able to skip breakfast with no adverse consequences.

I’m happier tonight, though, because after a weekend of yet more cancellations (what the hell is going on?! Is it the rain?!), I did finally see one client tonight. I was finally able to go to the grocey store – in fact, I just got back – and I bought myself $80-worth of food. Most importantly, I have a huge big bag of coffee, which will last me ages. I don’t care how bad it gets, as long as I can a nice steaming cup of coffee or tea in the morning, the world is at least half-way OK.

Judith, over at Vicarious Rising left me a comment, which has left me feeling a bit upset, though. I’m not upset at her in the slightest – in fact, I appreciate it when people I like tell me what they really think of me. What’s the point of people coming on here and just kissing my ass?! Nonetheless, the comment (that I’ve been making a lot of excuses for myself lately, and that I’m better than that) has set off a wave of paranoia. Maybe it’s not that I’ve just only started making excuses for myself….maybe I did it all along, but nobody noticed because I just didn’t post every day before. Maybe I’m a really awful person, and nobody noticed that before either for the same reason. Or maybe they have noticed that, and that’s why I have no male readers anymore. Maybe I’m a really terrible writer, and that’s why people don’t comment as much as they used to.

I probably am making excuses and, um, I’m not trying to make excuses for making excuses :-), but I honestly don’t know what to do to change my life right now. It seems I’m caught in a vicious circle. There really is no way to stop being a full-time sex worker unless I have a work permit and a car. I can’t, as Terry over at Pandabox33 suggested become a dogwalker or a cleaner, or whatever other jobs she suggested. Yes, I could do those jobs and get paid “under the table” but how would I get to my clients in this city of terrible public transport? One time when I hurt my foot and couldn’t ride my bike to a job, it took me two hours to travel four miles on a bus here. My life in this city takes place within maybe a four-mile radius for a very simple reason – it’s impossible to get to some places without a car. Even if public transport wasn’t a problem, how do I support myself while building up a client base? I need to eat now, and any money I have left over goes towards paying off debt, so how do I do that while I have one dog-walking client a week in the beginning? You say I have choices, and yes, these are choices, but they don’t seem like very good ones to me. They seem just as shitty, and just as unlucrative, as my current situation. I’d rather stick with what I know, so at least I don’t get run over trying to cycle across a highway on my bike.

I wouldn’t mind suffering if any of the suggested jobs tied in somehow to my future plans, but they don’t. Doesn’t it make more sense to use the spare time I have as an erotic masseuse (at least this job gives me a lot of that!) to volunteer in schools? At least that way I strengthen my résumé for the day when I actually can apply for a proper teaching job.

(Bugger it! I posted this stupid thing one millisecond too late, so I missed my midnight deadline for NaBloPoMo.)

Flat as a pancake


mold-spore (Medium)No, not my breasts (although I’m never likely to be mistaken by Dolly Parton). I’m talking about my emotions.

My allergies are extremely bad again and this, of course, makes me tired, lethargic and depressed. I need to change my email “allergy alert” company because they tried to tell me today that the pollen count was low, and they didn’t even mention mould as being present in the air. After every heavy rain fall, I always seem to be affected by mould. Its spores look so beautiful under the microscope, don’t they? It’s a shame they have to add such misery to my life.

Today, and yesterday, were bad days money-wise. I actually lost out on quite a bit of money yesterday because I’ve decided to start volunteering for three separate programs (one with elementary school students; one with middle school kids and the final one with high schoolers) and had to attend two separate trainings. Of course, as Sod’s Law would have it, every single client decided they wanted a session exactly when I was unavailable because I was being trained how to help the nation’s youth. How unfair that sex workers cannot submit expense claims or a form to recoup lost earnings!

Today three separate clients told me they were coming, but all of them flaked out on me at the last minute. This is really quite an unprecedented occurrence. It almost makes me think there’s some kind of weird conspiracy against me but, well, let’s not allow the prospect of starvation to turn into paranoia.

The end result of these two days of unemployment is that I now have $0.87 in my bank account. Worse still, I have run out of porridge! And tea! The cats have not had wet food for weeks, and they’re constantly shooting me evil looks.

The only good thing about having allergies is that they really do dull my senses and sap me of all my strength, so I don’t even have the energy to worry about my (yet again) financially precarious state. It does help being married… I do at least have Midwestern Man to bring me food.

Speak of the devil, he just walked in, so I need to finish writing for tonight. Um, how about some comments, please? How depressing that I wrote a post yesterday bemoaning my lack of male readers only for not a single person with dangly bits to comment and prove me wrong.

My Secret Affair – Part 2


I’m sitting on one side of the sofa; Midwestern Man’s on the other. There has been no time to write in my blog today…I was either knocked out by allergies and terrible asthma symptoms, or I was checking my email desperately to see if I could get a client (I didn’t…I’m so broke).

Apparently you can post to WordPress by email, so that’s what I’m doing now, and I really hope this works.

Ooh, this is kinda fun. It really is like I’m having a secret affair. Gotta go. Midwestern Man is starting to get suspicious.

Composed on my iPhone, so please excuse any typos!

Saturday…ballsed up by Benadryl


I’m only here, sitting at my keyboard, because of that bloody NaBloPoMo challenge. I have spent the whole day (from roughly noon to 9:00 p.m.) sleeping off a horrible Benadryl hangover. The bad thing about living where I do in the US is that the climate is warm pretty much year round, so there is nearly always something in bloom to give me chronic hayfever. I thought I had outgrown my childhood asthma until I moved here, and it came back with full force. Yet another reason to leave this place!

Every year it seems there is something new I’m allergic to, so it’s very hard to predict when I’m going to get sick. The first year I was here, my allergies were so bad that I actually had sores inside my nose from having blown it so much. Yuck!

I’ve found that taking quercetin supplements, and drinking nettle tea is a good preventative, but this year I’ve been too broke to buy stuff like that. This morning I tried using my faithful neti pot and when that didn’t work, I knew the only thing for it was to take Benadryl. Usually one of those works like a treat, but I had to take two, and that sent me into a zombie-like trance for most of the day. I’m pissed off, but at least I got lots of sleep. If I hadn’t taken them, I’d have lain around feeling miserable.

Well, I’m off to watch Deadwood on DVD again, and have a few glasses of red wine. Don’t you think that Timothy Olyphant, who plays the character Seth Bullock, is just totally delicious?! Yum!

SethBullock