One of the things I like so much about being here is learning new things about myself; actually, I always like learning new things, no matter where I am. This is why I ask a lot of intrusive personal questions, because I long ago found out that people are so startled by them that they answer truthfully. This goes over well when you're a therapist, not so well when you're on the bus.
But traveling always throws a lot about you into sharp relief. You learn about how you react under pressure ("Ahhhhh, I missed the only bus out of Nice!"), how you feel about certain situations ("Ahhhhhhh they want me to eat cockroaches!"), and the hilarious meanings in Lonely Planet language phrasebooks ("Ahhhhhh it has a section on sex that has phrases like "Touch my eyes/breasts/hair/face" and "You can't stay here tonight" in Swahili!").
For me, I've mostly learned lately that I seem to be allergic to milk.
This sucks for two, equally bad reasons. The first is that now I have to be one of those smug, irritating people who drinks oat milk, eats Rice Dream and soy cheese, and says, "Oh, no thank you, I can't haaaaaaave that -- it has daaaaaaaiiiiiiiry."
The second is, I have to eat soy cheese.
The only thing on earth I love more than breathing is cheese. I LOVE CHEESE. A lot. To the point where one of the main reasons why I don't particularly want to live in many parts of the US is because they don't have good aged cheddar. To the point where I happily ate pretty much nothing but chèvre the entire time I was in France, with absolute disregard for what anyone else wanted to eat. To the point where I have cheesy garlic bread with my pizza. I have frequently been given cheese for Christmas, and it was my favorite present.
But now, due to the alarming stomach cramps and other interesting symptoms (I won't bore you, but you can Google "lactose intolerance" if you're really interested) I seem to get as a direct result of consuming milk, I am reduced to only eating cheese if I really want to suffer some consequences...or more accurately, if I really want everyone AROUND me to suffer some consequences.
Oh, also, you know what else has milk in it? Chocolate.
It's also possible that I am allergic to Red Bull, or at least that it has something in it that strongly disagrees with me. The allergen jury is still out, and the allergen jury mostly consists of me noticing the day after eating something that I'm in horrible gastrointestinal pain and some other stuff I'm too delicate to mention because I'm a lady, and then trying to figure out what I ate the previous day, forgetting, then remembering and thinking, "I can't possibly have a problem with THAT."
So mostly I'm engaging in fun experiments with the art of farting quietly in public.