Doing Something Rash

I have a hickey. From necking with an unidentified insect sometime between lunchtime and logout time.

It’s ugly. Red spots right in the middle of my neck with pink streaks from where I scratched it. Of course, my guy friends wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. Some wisecracks on how “wild” I am. Questions on where I holed up. One asked if I even knew what a hickey was. I was informed that it’s not from kissing – but suction. They consider me intensely dense when it comes to things of this nature. Most of the time I don’t recognize green jokes until they cast sideway glances at me to check if I got them or not.

Another good indication is whenever conversations take a confusing turn for me and they start snickering and making remarks that they should change the subject because I am around. Whenever this happens, I just assume they’re talking about sex. Big deal.

Anyway, I don’t know if it’s psychological, but I feel like I’m starting to get a skin rash the more I got conscious about my “hickey”. I wonder if it was something I ate. I’m allergic to only a few things. And yes, alcohol is one of them. Again, not the ethyl or isopropyl kind. The one that makes you woozy and makes you regret all the things you said the morning after you indulge in mindless quantity of it. I think it’s worthwhile to note here that I don’t drink (not if I have to work the next day), I don’t smoke (no plans of starting whatsoever), I don’t party (just no). Hi, my name is “Lame”; you can call me that.

I would definitely remember if I had any alcohol intake lately. Unless they spiked the water dispenser in the office, I think I’m clear. So I’ve narrowed the cause to my current task at work. I am allergic to my investigation in my other maintenance project, nyahaha.

Partly because of the psychological-turning-into-almost-physical skin rash, I declined some of my friends’ invitation to watch a movie this evening. On my way to Mega B, I passed by a video store. And I made a 180-degree turn and decided to go in and browse a little. There’s something oddly relaxing in browsing through movies for me. Aisle after aisle of films. Comedy. Action. Animation. Drama. I finally bought “Four Weddings and a Funeral” and “Sleepless in Seattle” – both of which I’ve already seen, but had the sudden urge to watch again (I’m not paying attention to any sniggers).

I was planning to watch them during the New Year long weekend. Old movies during the New Year. I think the only thing that could be more ironic is me having rashes without having the convenient escape offered by being drunk wasted.