Hiccing in the Holler

Okay, so I don't live in a hollow (often called hollers around here), exactly. But they're all around. It wouldn't take me long to get to one. The hiccups (also known as hiccoughs, which I don't like the looks of written out), however, are the God's honest truth. I had a run-in with them last night that lasted over half an hour. I hate hiccupping under the best of circumstances, but it was hot as hell and I was not in the mood. To describe my state of mind as out of sorts would be putting it mildly.

There are all kinds of folk remedies for hiccups, and I tried most of them. First, I drank about a quart of water. Nada. Hic.

Then I drank a Diet Coke. That seemed to make it worse, so I had a glass of water. Hic-hic.

Despite the heat straight from the fabled fiery flames, I made myself a cup of coffee. I figured I'd try to burn the suckers out. All that got me was hotter than when I started. I drank two more glasses of water. And I was still hiccing to beat the band.

That meant it was time to call out the big guns -- holding my breath. I don't like to do that except as a last resort, and this was. I count when I have to hold my breath. I can usually make it to 100 -- except that I lose count when I start turning blue and have to start all over. And meanwhile, I'm hiccupping like a Rent-A-Wreck out of oil. Regardless of the count, or the delicate blue hue of my skin which made me look like a Pictish warrior woman, the hiccups continued unabated. In fact, oxygen deprivation seemed to give them new life. I chugged a glass of iced tea. Bupkis. Hic. Gulp. Hic-hic.

Quickly approaching the border of desperation, I remembered hearing that a spoonful of sugar was supposed do the trick. I had a spoon and I had some sugar, so down the hatch it went. It made me feel like barfing, but it didn't stop those damned demon-driven hiccups. Instead, I downed about another quart of water.

God, what next, I wondered? What were some of the other tried and true remedies I'd heard of?

Paper bag! Yeah, I seemed to recall that breathing into a paper bag was one of the most trustworthy methods of hiccup control. I just knew that would by God put me out of my misery. Well, I searched my house over in quest of a paper bag and wouldn't you know, there was not a sack to be found that wasn't plastic. I guess I could have gone to Burger King and ordered a load of food in order to get the big paper bag it would come in, but who can drive when you're hiccing like a maniac? And I've seen enough episodes of CSI to know better than to stick my head in a plastic bag, so that method of hic control was out. I wanted out of my misery, but not permanently.

At the penultimate moment, just when I was getting ready to take the desperate measure of asking the hubs to scare me, they just ... stopped. It was about damn time, too. I had myself a nice little stomachache going on from hiccing for half an hour.

I don't know what causes hiccups. I don't know what I did to the forces of nature that caused it to slap me down with such a bad case. I know it wasn't from over-eating; it's so hot I barely ate anything all day. It wasn't from boozing; my facial cleanser is the closest thing to alcohol I've been around lately. It wasn't caused by a hissy fit, too much sex (or money), too-tight underwear, reading bad porn, yodeling, or stage fright. I just hope the evil hics don't return any time soon. I spent about half the night in the bathroom because of all that water and I'm too tired to deal with it today.

Words Gone Wild tackled by TWISTED LINGUISTICS today:

allegatons - Charges filed against alligators.

travestity - Bad implants.

enviroment - The atmosphere around LaLa Land.

consiladate - Lumping everything you need to make amends for into one pile.

5 Dollors - How much a really dolled up crack ho can get.

You Are Cereal

Playful and lighthearted, breakfast is likely your favorite meal of the day. (In fact, you're probably the type who sneaks cereal as a midnight snack.) Your culinary skills are probably a bit lacking... and you are a sucker for junk food. Some people accuse you of eating like a kid, but you prefer to think of yourself as low maintenance.

What Kind of Breakfast Are You?