summer (snork!) fun

I have allergies. I never used to, as a kid. My best friend Bob had them, and I never understood what it was all about. And I still didn't, until I moved to California.

The Central Valley is home to more agriculture than you can shake a stick at. That, and what remains of the native flora, guarantee about 3 dozen species of floating, drifting, blowing stuff in the air from mid-April until early August. The cruel irony of it is that the clearest, brightest days - the days when the smog doesn't turn the whole sky slate, when the Sierra is visible and the Diable range is sharply defined - are the days when the wind is strong enough to keep the crap swirling in the air. So the most beautiful days are the days I suffer most.

And I take anti-histamine. Well, actually, I take generic Claritin, which might have a placebo effect. My doctor, when I saw him a year ago, wanted to put me on a nasal spray decongestant for my allergies, which might have had a negative placebo effect. I wanted Allegra, which is the only anti-histamine that works for me, and which is over-the-counter in Canada and Mexico, but prescription only in the States, because the manufacturers are bastards. But my doctor was reticent to put me on that, and I didn't want the hassle of going through his whole bag of tricks before he'd prescribe the one thing I know does work. Doctors under the HMO model work that way.

That's not the fun part. The fun part is this: our meat was stolen.

We order grassfed beef (sustainably farmed, fed-with-things-cows-are-supposed-to-eat, and about 3 times more expensive per pound) through the Net. Our last order came in March, and we still have a slab of London broil left. So our orders, which are under $200, last about 3 months.

Foul-up #1: The people we get our beef from send it frozen solid, packed in ice, overnight, via DHL. DHL sucks.

Foul-up #2: DHL delievered the package, allegedly, to the wrong apartment, despite the correct address appearing on the package (transposing the numbers in the address).

Foul-up #3: The apartment where it was delivered is vacant.

Foul-up #4: The management of our complex didn't know, or didn't tell us, it was vacant.

Foul-up #5: Either the people vacating that apartment, or a neighbor, or a random passerby, took the package, saw the address on it, and instead of returning it where it belonged, kept or discarded it.

So we're out $200 worth of meat, our meet for the next 3 months.

Turns out that's not the fun part either. We might make popcorn and watch a movie. That'd be fun. And I'll go play my guitar now, and sniffle. That'll be fun.