I thought I caught Ebola on the way home from Ohio.
You know, when you sign up for that flight where everyone sounds like they have TB? Then you play the Southwest Air lottery as you're sitting in your seat, hoping the one that sounded like a horse in the throes of the plague does NOT sit in the middle seat in your row. Of course, he/she always does. It's either going to be that or the person with the stinky, E. Coli-ridden airport burrito the size of a car battery going in that middle seat, people.
Next time I'm just buying two seats.
I was so careful.
I NEVER touch the tray table or the magazines. Those are just fertile petrie dishes. I always wear loose clothing so that I can put my seatbelt on while only touching it with my shirt and not my hands. I don't touch my face. I glare the ojo at people who cough.
PS - if you fly when you're sick, you should be in prison. I'm just saying.
So anyway, a few days after I got home, I felt the beginnings of airplane Ebola. I had a fever, a sore throat, uncontrollable scream-sneezing.
And then today, in the depths of despair, after covering up all the mirrors in my house so as not to see my Draculean (I just made that word up) face, I tapped the weather app on my phone. And I saw this.
As usual, Texas is trying to kill me.
Alternaria is by far my worst allergy.
If I could set off a nuke right now that would target just alternaria and banish it from the earth, I would. With no regrets.
If anyone knows if there's a place on earth where alternaria does not grow, please tell me. I will go through level 6 decontamination to make sure I'm not carrying spores, and I will move there right now. I don't care if it's an iceberg at the North Pole. I'm there.
So I bought some cough drops to try to help me survive. I went for my go-to Ricola as well as some Halls Mentho-Lyptus. (I am sad the old Halls ones that taste like Listerine aren't made anymore.)
I started with the Ricola, and as I felt the ornery, square drop of death tearing the roof of my mouth apart, I thought - the guy who invented this thing was the Steve Jobs of the cough drop industry.
He said - forget about smooth, oval shaped cough drops that don't tear your mouth apart - what the people need is a pointy cube of death that will take their mind off their searing throat and sinus pain.
And you know what? He's right. I've been a Ricola fan since I was 13 and had my first job at Calico Natural Foods. I just deal with the horrid mouth pain so that I can get the delicious herby magic the death cube delivers.
Sometimes, you have to think different. (If you're Steve Jobs. If you're a normal person, please think differently so that all the English majors don't twitch to death.)
Anyway, I made a card for Dina's Hope You Can Cling To challenge that is basically a self-portrait of me today since I look and feel like the undead.
I actually really struggled with her challenge, which is to use an image of a hand, or use your hand to finger paint, etc. I could have taken the easy route and done the fingerpainted clouds I LOVE to do (learned this from Jeanne).
But a challenge should be a challenge, right? And since I don't normally stamp humans, I had to scour my collection for a human with a hand.
And butter my butt and call me a biscuit if I didn't find the perfect one from the Holiday Mini - the little vampire from Haunt Ya Later!
Isn't he fangastic?
And you can see not ONE hand but TWO. The sentiment is from Happy Scenes.
I colored him with Copics.
If you are in an alternaria-free zone this weekend, enjoy yourself. I'll be scaring little kids with my scream sneezes and puffy eyes.
PS - don't forget to sign up for our mini-retreat the day before OnStage Live in Dallas! First come, first served, and seating is limited!