Gentle Reader: In today's blog I will make up my own words, offend Elvis and Kevin Costner fans with equal fervor, go off on several tangents only slightly related to the topic at hand, and use words like mucus, urine, and sinus cavities in polite conversation. Enjoy.
I have something to confess that may come as a shock to you. I mean, I'm a fairly coordinated person. I've got pretty good rhythm, for a white girl. I was a pom-pon girl in junior high and high school. I had a cheerleading scholarship to college. (Which ended after an unfortunate tumble from the trampoline during a back tuck stunt when my spotter was paying attention to the pom-pon girls rehearsing a particularly provocative routine instead of catching me and resulted in a sprained ankle--but I digress. And that's not really making my "I'm so coordinated" point, now is it?) Anyway, I'm not the most graceful bird in the flock, but I do all right. Most of the time.
So here's where I start hanging my head in shame. I'm embarrassed to admit this but...
I'm not ambi-nose-erous.
What the heck does that mean, you might be asking yourself. Well, I'll tell you--only one of my nostrils is neti-pottable.
Remember when I told you that I bought a neti-pot to help treat my sinus infection? In my right nostril it's easy to use. I tilt my head at just the right angle, lean forward over the sink, think happy thoughts, and let the contents of my sinus cavities drain merrily into the basin. No problemo.
Then comes the left nostril and all my natural grace leaves the building like Elvis after a peanut butter and bacon hamburger dinner. I sputter. I cough. I gag. I drink more salt water than Kevin Costner did in Waterworld (but I, at least, draw the line at drinking my own urine. Euw! Who thought that movie was a good idea? Give me Bull Durham--with Kevin painting Susan Sarandon's toenails--any day but Waterworld was just wrong on more levels than I can count) . I just can't seem to tilt my head at the proper angle to get the flow going in the right direction--the one that doesn't go straight down my throat when I'm not expecting it.
I envy those neti-potters who can blithely pour saline solution into both nostrils with grace and poise. I curse them while I'm drowning in a puddle of mucus and salt water.
I really do. Show-offs