Recommended wine for today’s entry: 2006 Perrin & Fils French – Rhone (Red Blend) “Les Christins” This was reviewed a couple days ago on an excellent site, Kenswineguide.com. Four reviews gave it an average of 91.2 and Ken gave it an 88 (very good) rating. The description of this blend – it’s 75% Grenache and 25% Syrah – as “slightly musty oak and blackberry bouquet. On the palate, this wine is full bodied, balanced, and easy to drink. The flavor profile is a very mild plum with hints of oak and light black cherry. The finish is quite dry and its fine tannins linger for some time.” They recommend it with a gourmet burger.
Have you had your flu shot? Not me. I almost did, but, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m still scared of shots.
Maybe I’m not scared, maybe I’m more grossed out. I mean, the thought of it puncturing my skin and digging its way through my fat and my muscle and maybe hitting my bone totally makes my gorge rise.
I have been like this since I was a kid. I remember when I was little and we went to Dr. Wolf (yes, it is his real name) and I wouldn’t sleep the night before I knew I was getting a shot. Dr. Wolf was giant and hairy and really, really scary and he used the biggest needles in town.
Then all we got was a crappy little Dum-Dum after enduring that kind of psychosis-evoking trauma. Here you go, little girl who hasn’t slept in 48 hours and we just gored you with a needle the size of a chicken boner, here’s a sucker that’s smaller than a permanent tooth. And they NEVER had a cream soda one … there was always only pineapple left.
I’m sure the last time I got a Cortisone shot for poison ivy didn’t help. It was like a needle they’d use to film Honey I Shrunk the Kids, so giant that they had to do it in my butt because its circumference was greater than that of my upper arm.
And about four days after I got the shot, my butt caved in. The doctors said, “oh, no, that’s never happened” when I called, like I was some sort of crazy woman. But here are the facts: 1) I got a shot; 2) there was a crater the size of my fist where my butt used to be; 3) it took nearly a year to regain its former fatness.
At least the poison ivy went away.
But I REALLY don’t want the flu again (in case you missed it, search the blog for When Mama’s Sick, Ain’t No One Happy … Or Home). It is miserable.
So yesterday, when I was in Kroger, I almost got the shot. But, just so you know that it wasn’t ONLY my phobia of shots that kept me from it, you should understand that I was already under quite a bit of stress.
On my way up there, I almost ran over a man dressed in a banana costume dancing around in front of Sonic. I got transfixed, watching him, thinking how hungry do you have to be to take that job?, when I almost nipped his need for food money right in the bud. The near-miss left me a little shaky.
Then, because I am an idiot, I tried to help shove some stray shopping carts into the little corral on my way into the store.
There were three of them that didn’t fit and I was trying to at least organize them a little. I’m not sure why. I just really wasn’t in the mood to go to the store and the lure of changing the kitty litter when I got home simply wasn’t that strong. So, to stall, I worked on the cart corral.
One good shove to the central player of the three escapees should do it, I figured. I used a little force, little muscle, just to show who’s boss and then, well, then the little bastards all just started shooting out of there and rolling right for the cars in the lot!
But they didn’t go toward the Hyundai with the muffler tied up and the Give Peace a Chance bumper sticker, NO…one went for the big BMW and one went for the Lexus SUV with the temporary tag. Two of the little craps went after my car, but I didn’t care because it was on the door that I’d already dug a trench out of with the metal mailbox.
Why do they build cart corrals on hills?
So anyway, after I rounded up all the strays and shoved them REALLY, REALLY hard into two neat lanes and was muttering under my breath, well THEN the cart-fetcher from Kroger came out.
The point is, I probably would have sucked it up and gotten the shot, but I was already worried about my blood pressure. I got in line, though, and this adorable older woman took forever to undo the little pearl buttons on her cardigan, then she had to pull up the sleeve on her housedress and then … I didn’t look away in time and I saw the needle go into her skin!
Literally, my knees buckled and I had to grab onto the photo processing machine. I just got queasy writing about it now.
A really cute guy told me that he heard it’s available in a nasal spray. I think I’ll wait for that. I mean, how’s that different than waiting for the movie to come out instead of laboring through a classic novel? It’s not. Really.