
Fast forward to a decade later when the tumult begins. I'm 15, out on the prowl for the perfect dress for my boyfriend's junior prom. Though I took the whole day off from school that day - it wasn't the main intention, but the reward. First, I had to visit the allergist. After an hour or so of being poked with tiny needles, and an arm full of what looked like sadism personified, I was told that they had no idea why I had developed an allergy to all fresh fruits and vegetables. The hypothesis was that the environment they were grown in, was to blame. All those pesky pollens coming home to rest atop those delectable goods of the earth. So with nought in the way of good news, and no reasonable solution, I was told to suck it up, cook everything, or eat nothing at all.
The rest of my high school days and on into college I was on a strict don't eat or die diet. Although I pushed the boundaries of this diet quite a bit, I knew that pushing too far would leave me gasping for air and wondering if that one baby carrot or that one piece of melon had really been worth it in the end...which hopefully, would not REALLY be the end. Years later, when I moved to California, everything started to change. It seemed like gone were the days of sneaking grapes and blueberries. The change in environment was a change in my system and after a year of acclimation, I was able to eat full blown proportions of almost any healthy yum-yums that my heart desired.
This bag of Cuties (or "clementines") is what I've been able to hold on to from those California days. I spent just two years in Los Angeles, and after a year of being back on the East coast, my system again is starting to reacclimatize. I cling to my strong system of the West, but unfortunately some of those allergies are starting to creep up again. Bananas were the first thing to go. But until these vibrant little cuties threaten to destroy me, I'll go on enjoying 2 or 3 a day, just in case there's no tomorrow.
Cheers,
Breezer M.
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