My cousin Susanne was married this past Saturday, which is amazing and wonderful and beautiful to me.
What is not amazing, wonderful, and beautiful to me is what I endured during this time period.
A month prior to the wedding, I was informed that they wanted me to make pimento cheese. This both horrified me and delighted me, considering my horrible experiences with pimento cheese earlier this year. But the good news was that pimento cheese now had the chance to redeem itself in my eyes.
The week before the wedding, I began feeling extremely tired. The specific kind of tiredness involves a mental fog and comes on randomly as opposed to my normal “always being tired.” Note: if you are always tired, something is likely wrong. I’m always tired. Something is likely wrong. But back to the point.
Then, on Monday came what I thought were just general sinus issues from pollen- a slight burning feeling in my nose and throat that could largely be ignored.
Tuesday, it was worse, and I felt like hell. My auntie called my mother and wanted to know if I could go make pimento cheese, but I declined, saying I could try the next night.
Wednesday, I was still miserable.
Thursday, I felt slightly better, enough to where I thought I could go help my auntie, but I was still feeling tired.
Friday, the slightly better feeling was even greater, and I thought, YES, I’ll be ready for the wedding tomorrow! Then I discovered my auntie was at the rehearsal dinner, and I was like, oh. Well, there goes that plan.
During Friday night, my throat began to swell, and I began to cough, the deep, cutting kind of cough that makes your throat feel like you had razors in your lungs that decided to punish your vocal cords for no apparent reason other than their own sadistic delight.
Saturday, I woke to feeling like a half-dead dog. When I awoke with the pounding headache and stomach ache, I realized I wasn’t going to be seeing my cousin get married.
Now, you have to understand exactly why this was a painful experience for me beyond the generic missing-out on something: Susanne is one of my cousins with whom I was raised (that’s significant because I have many cousins to whom I’ve never been formally introduced); there has never been be a point in my life where I have not known her. She’s always been there, and especially as adults, we’ve been friends and been in each other’s lives, having the long familial conversations and exchanges that we do. She’s been a huge influence on me, so not getting to go to her wedding was the equivalent of…well, I don’t know if there is an equivalent of how tragic it was.
Naturally, the last thing she needed on her big day was for me to crawl to her wedding, delirious, and cough loudly in a way that sounded like barking.
So what happened at my house…
My father knocked on the door to ask me if I was going to the wedding.
I could barely speak. Mournfully, I croaked that I was too sick to go.
And I went back to sleep.
Then I woke up, got up, and tried to stay awake for a while. My stomach had stopped hurting by this point, so that was at least one improvement.
That’s when things became creepy. Around 5:30 PM, I heard the front door open and close, and then footsteps walking around. My first thought was that my brother had made it home, but when I walked through the house, expecting to see my brother, no one was here.
The odd noises continued here and there. A friend of mine reassured me that it was likely just the temperature changing, causing the house to pop. But the A/C wasn’t on, for one thing; we were trying to conserve electricity, and honestly, my body temperature was deregulated, I get cold very easily, and I enjoyed the 83 degree house.
So I was dealing with a poltergeist on my hands, basically, but I didn’t mind, because of how sick I was. Too much fever makes me a little too brave.
I should also note that I had just dreamed of having to cast out poltergeists before I woke up, invoking the name of the Holy Trinity.
Gigi left a note saying there was pimento cheese in the fridge. This again horrified me and made me wonder.
So I grabbed the pimento cheese and tried it.
Oh. My. Kitchen. GODDESS.
It was absolutely delicious and tasted nothing like the store-bought goop.
In fact, if I were to describe what this pimento cheese tasted like, I would compare it to a cheese ball. Gigi verified that Mimi made the pimento cheese, and she did a much better job than I would have, I’m sure.
So my hatred for pimento cheese has officially ended.
My hatred for carrots still stands, though. Carrots only taste good to me in a situation where they are very small in number or are completely masked in flavor. Raw carrots have a strange sweetness to them and stewed carrots have the same sweetness with an amplified tang that I just can’t stand. I know carrots are healthy and likely I should eat more of them, but good grief, it’s torturous.
I’ll obtain the pimento cheese recipe from Mimi and post it up here soon enough. Again, guys, my perspective on pimento cheese has totally changed, and the next great feat will be to make the recipe posted by the Onyx Plate several blogs ago.
So, a quick summary: my Saturday consisted of…
- Being deathly ill and hacking up my lungs
- Missing my beautiful cousin’s beautiful wedding
- Exorcising poltergeists in the name of Jesus
- Eating pimento cheese
Yup, I would say it was a pretty exciting day despite the utter misery I was in.