Well…I ate bread.

and lived to tell about it!!!

So I’m out to dinner in Philly and I’m eating this crappy salad at Caribou Cafe, I think that was the name. I mean, for a supposedly French restaurant, this was a crappy salad. Little piece of cold salmon, these horrible little olives…yuck. My friend had a delicious looking crepe covered in a delicious looking sauce, and I had “haricots verde”…blah.

THEN, the waitress brings this bread. You know the kind: crusty outside, soft inside…that kind of great bread you only seem to get in restaurants with that great butter you also only get when dining out…and I thought, fuck it. I’m eating the bread.

 

And it was goooooooooooooood. I mean, it made up for the crappy salad and the fact that I was drinking iced tea instead of wine. You know, hot liver and all that; alcohol’s a big no right now.

It wasn’t alot, but it made a difference and I left feeling good. Then I went to a show, Girl’s Night Out, at the Kimmel Center and b/c the show wasn’t as good as IT could have been, you know, being the Kimmel Center and all…I drank “sparkling white wine” from a plastic flute, for $10, during intermission. Take that, Doctor! I am my own woman, and I can eat bread and drink alcohol if I want to! damnit.

During the second act, I started to itch. Just a little, inner right thigh. I felt the now all-too-familiar lump under the skin but it wasn’t bad. After the show, walking back to the parking lot, I thought it was getting worse, but it wasn’t until I got home that I got a good look.

Big, huge red welt, inside thigh. Surrounded by littler bumps. Accompanied by similar bumps on the other thigh.  A semi-matching set of itchy, bumpy inner thighs. All b/c of a little bread? Or a small glass of faux champagne? Or both? Or neither?

shit. I took a benadryl, slathered on some anti-itch cream and went to bed. This morning, I made a gluten-free pancake and ate it sans syrup. So good morning. Have a lovely, itch-free day 🙂