Pineapple Hitting a Wall Cake

Ingredients:

• An unlimited # of times missing the 1 train by literally 2 seconds literally every time you approach it. Literally.
• A plethora of elevator doors that do the same thing
• 2 nail salon technicians who can provide a similar embarrassing situation to the following:
  You enter a nail salon off Park Ave. with the 11-year-old you babysit and her friend. You interact with them like the mature humans they are. Having stepped into a nail salon never, (holla!, small town middle class particular priorities!), your kid shows you around & points to where you should sit down. [By the way, you've chosen pale yellow for your color. Lucky Magazine said it's the new nude for fall nails, so.] Once you've all sat, tow nail techs come back, one of whom asks you a question.
  "How old are you?"
  "What?" you ask, merely not understanding her quiet voice.
  She repeats, "How old are you?"
  "Um. What?" you think, merely not believing what's happening.
  After what you can imagine was a lengthy pause, you say,
  "22." The woman then taps and leans into her fellow employee and enjoys saying--doesn't even attempt to whisper-- "22", with some sort of odd mix of shock and satisfaction on her face. All roads lead to them having taken some sort of bet while preparing our manicures in the back. The manicures of 2 11-year-old girls and their ambiguous third party. Are you a potentially sad older teen who hangs out with either her sisters or simply much younger friends? This makes you three those young girls who go to nail salons all the time without their mothers in the middle of the day with no care in the world, who you can only imagine annoy these women. Or, are you... well-- what other option was there for you to be than that? And also-- WHO CARES?!?!?!?!?!?!
  Next time, I'm the one taking bets. 
• 1 scene in High School Musical where the quiet, awkward composer trips on a piano bench, falls, and spills all of her sheet music-- the one single part in a movie all about putting on a musical that your babysi-tee decides to react to with "THAT'S SO YOU!"
  
  And this wouldn't be a pineapple cake without the most important ingredient yet:
• 1/2 of a pineapple. That you eat. In one evening. By yourself. 

Instructions:
Never-- not once in my wildest dreams or nightmares-- have I suspected that "Pineapple Side Effects" would be even a valid concern of mine.

-- OK, I know I'm breaking the 4th wall here, but let me tell my own story so I can tell you what NEVER TO DO EVER PLEASE SAVE YOURSELF--

I hate pineapple. I've always hated pineapple, but I guess on my recent produce kick over the last couple of months it's been growing on me. Somehow, for some reason, I decided to pick up one of those styrofoam trays of fruit. Think of this:

 only with half of a pineapple instead of salmon cream cheese pinwheels. Which, OK, interesting first choice of fruit tray on Google Images.

So, having not really eaten a hearty meal at all and being starving at 8pm, I ate my dinner of vegetables and beans (yeah!) and then had some pineapple. Then I was still hungry, so after a while I had some more pineapple. Then I fell asleep on the couch (per usual past aprx. 2pm) and woke up in a narcoleptic frenzy, needing a sudden bolt of energy to help wake me up. So, I had some more pineapple. Then, I must've suddenly realized the taste and sugar of pineapple that I have never liked before. So, I had some more pineapple. (Also, let's be honest, I had nothing else reminiscent to eat in my apartment. It was either pineapple or straight up peanut butter with some beans and carrots, and maybe a rice cake.) Along the lines of the last couple of pieces of pineapple, my mouth starts to feel... burny. Like, I had eaten too much salt earlier, or something, and the juicy pineapple was burning my lips. Or maybe I had a cut on the sides of my mouth, or my lips were too dry. No bother. More pineapple! Ooo, but it's getting worse-- now it's moving to my tongue, like my tongue is on fire. Who cares?! We're almost out of the pineapple! Finally, my mouth could not take any more. I felt sweaty. My face cringed. I couldn't close my mouth and water hurt my poor wittle tongue.

It was time for another Early-20's-Hypochondriac Google Search.

This is quite possibly the most accurate photo I've ever seen.

Cue "Pineapple Side Effects": for light, straightforward reading, try this. For a more entertaining and upset/disappointed-at-fruit-charged critique, try this. We obviously know which one I relate to. 

If you're too lazy to do either, which shame on you because you really should know about this serious Bromelain issue, I will give you some key quotes, along with my initial reactions while reading:

"Although the fruit is bursting with healthy nutrition, too much pineapple can produce unpleasant side effects. " Shoot. 

"After eating a large amount of pineapple, you might experience swelling or tenderness on the lips, inner cheeks and tongue. " Oh, gosh... oh, man, that's me!

"Sure you’ve heard of “collagen” from one of those skin care adverts, but it provides a much more useful property in our tissues, basically, it holds everything together, providing us with a sturdy support for our internals, but more annoyingly, making our steak incredibly tough. To counteract this, we need something which can break up this collagen, and cue our friend (and enemy somewhat), the pineapple." ANNA! Of COURSE! A MEAT TENDERIZER!!

So, after 4 hours of not speaking, drinking, or moving my mouth (because I couldn't do any of the 3, ask my roommate), I decided to stop looking like Tim Allen: Botox mandarin oranges, remember?

Thankfully, upon waking today, my lips feel tingly and large and my stomach full of protein-tenderizing acid, but I am able to continue life as a human.

Lesson/instruction of the week? You're going to hit a wall. Soon. Very soon. I personally think it happens about every couple of weeks, maybe months. So, when was the last time you hit a wall? A couple of weeks ago? Psshh, brace yourself, then. Because tomorrow someone might tease you about getting nails done with 11-year-olds, or your 11-year-old might have finally figured out you're the awkward pianist from a teen movie. You might eat half of a pineapple for honestly God knows what reason and not be able to feel your lips or tongue except for the feeling of fire for 4 hours. Or you might quite literally get every single door shut in your face. We all have these weeks. It's not a good or a bad thing; it's obviously not a good thing. It does give you some pretty funny stories, if you are able to just laugh through your Pineapple Botox face. The good thing about Wall Weeks is that once they're over, you're WALL FREE for, like, at least another couple of weeks!

Part-ay!

But don't you dare bring a fruit tray.