We all have our weird moments. Our quirks. We all do something in our lives that is peculiar, (some might say it’s downright bizarre) that is unique to only us. I plan to humiliate myself today by telling everyone the two things I have done . . . strangely done . . . regretfully done . . . knee-slap funny done.
Why do I torment myself so?
1: I blow on hot food.
Let me rephrase the above. I blow on spicy food thinking that I can make the spices cooler this way. Chili. Jambalaya. Spicy salsa. You can equate what I do as holding up a whole habanero chili pepper and blowing on it thinking it’s not going to scald my tongue when biting down. Once I have fully convinced myself, I . . . of course . . . bite into it. Then I do my freaky dance while waving my hand at my mouth thinking the meager breeze will not only cool my burning tongue but will also cause to develop an interesting neuron in my head called a BRAIN CELL.
I know that I can’t cool off spices this way. But I still do it. Recently, I sat there eating a heaping bowl of Jambalaya. The food was at room temperature. Yet there I was knowing it was spicy but blowing on the spoon telling myself that, although the other nine times had my taste buds screaming in pain-filled mercy, THIS TIME it won’t feel so bad because of my icy breath.
2: I still drink the last bit of brewed tea in the pot.
Okay, this one probably has people scratching their heads in puzzlement. Let me explain. I’m a very heavy tea drinker. I only drink three things regularly in my life: hot tea, juice, and iced tea. So throughout the winter the teapot was steaming.
Yet, I’m not a constant drinker. I forget to hydrate myself and can leave a cup of juice sitting beside my laptop for a good four hours before remembering it is even there. This means that oftentimes the hot tea will bubble and sit for a good eight hours. This isn’t so bad when there is a full pot of tea inside. But when there is only a cupful left, boiling away inside the maker, the brew blackening and with that funky looking skin you’ll sometimes see on the surface of soup, this is some dangerous stuff. Odds are that automotive fluid tastes better than what is lurking in there.
But this is Michelle we are talking about . . .
Now, I am fully aware that the tea is going to be really strong and I should just dump it out and make another pot. Yet it seems like a waste to toss it into the drain, and sometimes it’s too late at night to make another pot. And I don’t want to spend the time microwaving a fresh cup of tea.
So I pour the tea inside my mug, seeing a few black lumps come out through the spout. Then I put in my regular two and a half teaspoons of sugar. I add dairy creamer because sometimes I get constipated when drinking milk (and don’t get me started in talking about the gas) before clasping my hands and saying a small prayer. Then I add more sugar.
Yes, I add more sugar - tons more into a cup that is not even filled halfway with tea. Then I give a quick stir and chuck back that brew like I was downing a tequila shot with a slice of lime!
But wait, this is not the end of it. Strong brew + lots of sugar = a very jittery person whose mind cannot handle the warm fuzz suddenly brewing inside her. The only thing I remember that night was grabbing the car keys. When my thoughts finally cleared, I was laying on the roof of a gondola watching a tap-dancing Chihuahua in a tutu and a man bending himself into a human pretzel while I wore nothing except goat cheese underwear and two smiley stickers covering over certain chest parts.
Haha! Of course this last part never happened. Or at least I’ll plead The Fifth to the Supreme Court Judges.