Queasy Questions

I wouldn’t describe myself as leading a sheltered life.  I’ve lived in various places throughout the United States, traveled to numerous countries around the globe and had some experiences that one might consider atypical for the majority of the American population.  I’ve watched my share of HBO featured segments on sex, gone to a nudist colony, done my share of drugs, studied crime families, researched cult groups, gone topless on a beach in France, earned my New Orleans beads the good old fashion way, done more than my share of body shots, danced on a grand piano, danced on a bar, danced half-naked… what can I say, I like to dance...I’ve jumped from an airplane, had sex in a submarine, rode a wave runner, and crashed a motorcycle.  The point I’m trying to make is that…I’ve seen a lot…but today I witnessed something I’ve never seen before.

There’s a reality television show called “My Strange Addiction” and they showed a woman, named Michelle, who is addicted to drinking blood.  She says she prefers pig blood to beef blood because it is gamier, and that she also drinks human blood; stating that she extracts it from the upper arm, elbow area, upper back or inner thigh.  She also explains that she stays away from drawing blood from the neck area because it is too cliché; and she emphasizes that she is not a vampire.  Full Story and Video Here.

Okay…okay…maybe she’s not among the living dead, but clearly she has vampire-like tendencies.  After all, drinking blood is not exactly a “normal” behavior…or is it? 

I decided to conduct a brief study on the effects of blood drinking and found that there are no medical advantages to guzzling hemoglobin.  Though it can be a good source of protein and iron, it can also cause severe nausea and increase your risk of contracting blood related diseases.  All in all, the medical community recommends against blood consumption.  But, historically speaking, blood has been used in many recipes for hundreds of years and is still being used today.  Here are just a few:

Polish Czarnina (duck blood) soup is made with spices, dried fruits, vinegar, and more or less the whole duck including its blood.

Blodplattar are blood pancakes made in Nordic countries like Sweden and Finland. They're savory but made with molasses, and they are typically served with Lingonberry jam.

Pig's Blood Sundae is on the menu at Washington, D.C., restaurant The Pig. Apparently it uses a chocolate ice cream made with blood instead of egg yolks.

Your own placenta is another way to eat some blood.  (I think I’m going to go throw up now!)

Pig's blood cake is a Taiwanese specialty that -- contrary to rumor -- is legal throughout the U.S. It is sticky rice drenched in pig's blood, steamed, bathed in a pork soy broth, rolled in peanut flour, and then topped with cilantro.

Blood sausage, also known as black pudding, is a sausage made with blood and any number of other ingredients like meat or cornmeal. Blood sausage is made all over the world. In Spain it's called Morcilla, in France it's Boudin Nor, and in China it's Xue Doufou.

This makes me wonder if the original Bloody Mary recipe was made with blood instead of tomato juice?  A good study topic for another time.     

Though I am not naïve to the fact that there are people in this world who drink their own and/or other’s bodily fluids…it never ceases to amaze me.  Aside from the occasional tear that has trickled down my cheek and landed on my lips, I have not ingested my own bodily secretions; nor do I desire to do so.  I am certain that blood, sweat and tears were not meant to be shared with others in a toasting fashion, nor consumed over ice for one’s own partaking pleasure.  ~

My Fall Fangs

Fall is my favorite time of year.  I love the cool air, the colorful earthly changes, the anticipation of snow, Halloween, football and the fact that it gets dark by six o’clock so I can light candles all over the house.  I love putting on warm sweaters, snuggling by a fire, and the smell of pumpkin pie.  I love everything about autumn. It makes me feel re-energized which is why my “spring cleaning” always takes place in the fall.

Some have said I’m “bass-ackwards” in this regard, as spring denotes renewal and regrowth, where one cleans out the old and makes room for the new; where we “spring forward” into a new year, blah, blah, blah.  I’ve never felt that way about spring.  In fact, spring depresses me.  I don’t care much for flowers, except giant sunflowers and white daisies. I can’t stand the smell of most flowers and don’t appreciate the fact that they draw bees and other bugs.  I don’t like that the days are getting longer or that summer and hot weather is looming.  Suffice to say, if I could hibernate through spring and summer, I would.

Fall is when I pull on my yellow, rubber, scrubbing gloves and attack the base boards, showers, toilets and windows.  It’s when I clean out the pantry, the fridge and re-organize the freezer.  It’s when the Goodwill donation truck visits my house on a weekly basis, as I sort through all the un-necessary items we’ve accumulated and the outgrown clothing.  

Yes, fall is when I am at my best, emotionally and creatively.  I feel motivated to write and generally more peaceful.  It is when I stop, take in a deep breath and appreciate the blessings in my life.

Isn’t it strange how a season can change your mood?

Statistically, more people suffer from depression in the fall and winter months and this has, in part, been attributed to the lack of sunlight during those seasons.  I am the opposite.  I thrive in the dark, colder months and barely get by during the spring and summer.  In fact, the sunlight of summer irritates me.  I am rarely seen without a dark pair of sunglasses and am not one to just sit outside and enjoy nature.  (Unless I’m in the mountains, where it’s cooler, and where the beauty surrounding me is indescribably surreal.)

It has been said I would make a great vampire, frolicking beneath the moonlight in the cool evening air.

See, I don’t have a green thumb and I find growing plants that I cannot later eat, quite unfulfilling.  I also don’t like to sweat, unless it’s during a good work-out; and I can’t stand bugs, mosquitos and June bugs in particular.  Thus, from a nature perspective, spring and summer offer me very little pleasure. 

Today, as I adorn my yellow, rubber, scrubbing gloves and attack my house, it is with a light heart and a big smile; for fall is here and I am aglow, ready to sink my fangs into life.  J