Allergic reactions

This article interested me a lot, as an asthmatic hayfever sufferer who’s allergic to cats.

I developed my cat allergy as a teenager. I started suffering hayfever a few years ago, which has got progressively worse, and I was diagnosed with asthma at the end of last year. As a relative late starter in the world of allergies, the causes of allergies and the recent increase in people suffering allergies is extremely interesting.

I can sympathise, to some extent, with the first part of the article – the notion that some allergies are deemed ‘fashionable’. I know people who have potentially fatal allergies but I also know people who claim they are ‘allergic’ to wheat or dairy when the truth is they’re not; rather, they don’t want to eat these foods because they are dieting but claiming an allergy makes it all sound better. I also know people who claim they are allergic to dust as an excuse not to do any housework

The second part of the article rings more true, however. There seems to be an obsession with ‘killing all known germs’, or at least 99% of them. Countless products are advertised that promise to make your kitchen floor cleaner to eat off than a plate, air fresheners are found in abundance and there is even a product designed specifically for wiping the telephone down after each use – you wouldn’t want to breathe on the same mouthpiece as your family members, would you? All of this means that our bodies don’t build up natural tolerances and antibodies so that we are more susceptible to allergens.

When I was growing up, our house was clean but also lived in. My dog was a faithful companion and who cares if he licked my ice cream when I was still eating it? We lived by a river, in a damp old house. I crawled round on the floor, picked up and ate dropped crisps and sweets (my father used to tell me to lick the germs off) and I always shared my cans of drinks with my friends (’suck your slurps’ – don’t leave any drink in the ridge at the top of the can). When I started cleaning my own house though I was seduced by bleach, antibacterial sprays, air fresheners etc – and I wonder how much of that has contributed to my current problems. Ironically, I can’t use such products now as they affect my chest….

The other thing of course is that people are just so damned stressed now. Jobs place increasing pressure on you, people try to juggle home and family life, and financial and other problems weigh heavily on your mind. I developed two stress-related conditions, at the same time of year, for two years running – shingles and asthma. I am convinced both of these were brought on by the stress of my job and the onset of winter (yes, I also get SAD). Stress has many effects on the body, not least lowering immunity.

I try to eat healthily (low-fat, low-salt, plenty of fruit and veg), go to the gym, get plenty of fresh air and am probably healthier now than I have been in years – yet I’m becoming more sensitive to allergens. It just has to be stress.

Incidentally, I also tested positive for a dog allergy. Go figure.

Cow

Noble

Originally uploaded by swingnut.

Someone once told me I had a bovine personality. I was not amooosed.

On the udder hand, someone else once told me I had eyes like a cow. I told them to heifer off. I was fresian at the time but didn’t want to milk it. I might have written about it in my dairy though.

You know the old wives’ tale about cows lying down? Know what it means? Knackered cows.

I once met a cow, I asked it what it thought about mad cow disease. It replied ‘don’t ask me, I’m a duck’.

(sorry)

Change of image

Yes, I have changed the look of this blog. Mainly because someone wanted to RSS my comments feed but the old theme didn’t seem to support that. This theme looks kind of more mature, which I guess suits someone whose birthday is just 49 days away (eek).

Dirrty

There is no better shower than the one you have when you’ve been camping for a few days without showering. Yes, my name is purrplechick and I went without a shower for three days. Through choice. Partly because the queues for the campsite showers were huge, partly because my hair is unmanageable when washed without loads of care and attention that I frankly couldn’t be arsed to do in a van, and partly because sometimes it’s nice not to bother. The layer of dust, sand and general grime acts as a natural sunblock (I convince myself!) and when you’re communing with nature and all that other hippy stuff that I like to indulge in occasionally plugging in your GHDs just doesn’t seem quite right somehow.

I think I was half a stone lighter when I washed all that shit off me

Brighton – my highlights

1. The hotel room. A sea view, overlooking the promenade – great for people watching. Nice and big. A lot of character. Also a corner room which meant we had an extra window for cooling purposes.

2. That Korean-Japanese restaurant. Great food, great sake, great staff. So good we went back.

3. The coffee cocktail on Friday night. Yum.

4. Numerous cakes and cookies shared over the weekend. Good food tastes better when it’s shared with good friends.

5. Drinks on the beach.

6. Watching a couple try (and fail) to have sex on the beach.

7. Paddling. At about 3 a.m.

8. That fab little market where I spent money I don’t have :l

9. Saturday afternoon cocktails, beachside.

10. The carousel ride with Steve. I had a male horse (Brian), Steve had a female (Sarah).

11. Walking along the prom, seeing all the characters.

12. The laid-back vibe Brighton has.

13. People not being afraid to show their sexuality.

14. Getting dressed up Saturday night.

15. Touring the pubs and clubs.

16. Steve running round the bedroom naked, jumping on the bed and waving his wang to all of Brighton seafront.

17. D&M moments that proved how great our friendship is.

18. The people I spent a great weekend with – both complete stars

19. Last but not last – Steve finally fulfilling his dream.

Can’t wait to go back!

Shoe traumas

Flowery flip flops

Originally uploaded by prrincess purrplechick.

I love shoes, but I have sensitive, prrincess-like feet. These thongs (flip flops) are a new purchase. Sadly, even these caused me to develop a blister on my foot.

The things a girl has to suffer in the name of Having Great Shoes.

Retro shit

There is a trend at the moment for ‘retro chic’ – all kinds of stuff, like clothes, music, cafes, etc. And the 80s are really big on the retro list right now as the 70s have been done to death.

Sadly though the restaurant that we made the mistake of eating at on Saturday night in Brighton was just retro shit. It wasn’t trying to be retro, it just never dragged its sorry ass out of the 80s.

The problem was, we didn’t want to eat at the Korean-Japanese restaurant again as we’d already had dinner and lunch there. We couldn’t go to Brighton and eat at the same restaurant for every meal. The Italian looked good, but there was a half hour wait for a table. Steve thought the Greek place might not sit well with his stomach. The ‘Aberdeen Angus steakhouse’ advertised seabass, had a vacancy, and we needed to eat, like, now – so in we trooped.

The menu was, frankly, uninspiring. However the seabass had called us in, so the seabass it was – except for Steve who followed the rule about not having the same as someone else, and went for the salmon.

The wine was harsh. The decor was awful – tartan covered walls. We should have followed our instincts when we were offered bread and butter as a starter. The rest of the clientele seemed to be a mix of young chavs and older chavs, complete with perma-tanned leather skin, tacky yellow gold jewellery and fake designer gear.

Just as I’d persuaded ade and Steve that it was all OK, the table next to us (6 middle aged oiks) all lit up cigarettes. While their food was being served. And continued to smoke as they ate.

Changing places with ade, I could feel my temper and irritation building, especially when the table the other side (young chavs) also started smoking.

“If the food hasn’t arrived by the time we finish this wine, we’re off” was the sensible suggestion from Steve. Sadly, with 2 gulps left to go, the food arrived.

The seabass came resplendent with head (including burnt hollow eye sockets), tail (charcoal) and burnt skin. The saute potatoes were deep fried, not sauteed at all. Steve’s salmon was overcooked. The seabass tasted of nothing, the salmon tasted like bland cheap salmon. Both dishes were so overcooked they could have been anything.

It was fuel, much needed for the night ahead, so we gulped it down as best we could. We’d spotted that ‘ladies’ were given a red carnation as they left (how classy) and I was threatening to insert the carnation in orifices best not mentioned, should I suffer the misfortune of being presented with one. We asked for the bill as the first plate was being cleared, left the precise amount of money (no tip – and being very British we didn’t complain) and legged it. How we all managed to control our tempers was anyone’s guess, but we did have a long and D&M discussion about our relative tempers (ade=lightning, Steve=nuclear, me=volcanic) which helped take our minds off the awfulness of the experience.

The worst thing was it didn’t even fill us up.

Prrincess Pukeychick

Bleurgh.

It must have been a dodgy mushroom. Or dodgy coke that came with the JD. Actually I didn’t have a mushroom so it must have been the dodgy seabass (that’s another blog post in itself).

It can’t have been the copious amount of alcohol, paddling at 3 a.m., watching the sun rise and 3 hours sleep. Must have been the seabass.

I don’t get hangovers very often but when I do they are devastating.

Yesterday, even water made me throw up. Which meant I spent a very long, unpleasant and hot journey in Steve’s car shutting down all but the most vital functions in my body to prevent puking in Audrey (which I would never forgive myself for). I only managed to drink (and keep down) about two thirds of a pint of water all day yesterday – and certainly not any food.

Bleurgh. I never, ever want to have to puke inbetween two cars in a multi storey car park again. Or behind a bush in a leafy Brighton park.

8 out of 10 shoe owners….

A survey says that 8 out of 10 young women go into debt over their spending habits. Most spend their money on shoes, bags, shoes, clothes, shoes, and going out. Oh, and shoes.

Can’t understand it myself

On a serious note, I never had a disposable income as such, as I had to pay rent and bills from my very first pay cheque (when I earned a mere £7k a year – can you hear the violins?). It’s only now that I have money to spend on shoes, clothes etc and although money can be tight at times, I would never go into debt just for a pair of shoes.

I’d wait until pay day and then get them.

Feeling hot

I think i’m melting. It’s so hot. It’s great, but I would prefer not to be stuck in an office sans air con and instead be able to lie out in the garden, under the parasol, reading and relaxing.

Cooking tonight’s meal (beef koftas, homemade tomato chutney, mint and yoghurt and potato wedges, if you’re interested) was sheer hell as the kitchen gets so hot in the summer due to the evening sun streaming in through the window. I was sweating like a cop in the queue for the last doughnut.

This heat makes everything hard work. Driving home in the car made me feel like a chicken being roasted at gas mark 5. I needed a sleep afterwards, I was so worn out. I’m averaging three showers a day and still feel I could use more. Going to the gym feels like torture.

But I’m not complaining, believe it or not. The only thing I hate is that just when you get used to the heat, it cools off again. If we had a few weeks of continual heat, our bodies would adjust and we wouldn’t all be flapping around like goldfish out of water. Bloody British summers.