So What the %*@$ is a Bulla?

That, my friends, is a complex question. Since I can remember, my Grandma Anna has repeatedly warned my mother not to deprive her three adoring daughters of, well, anything for fear of developing a bulla (pronounced boo-lah). This "anything" was usually food, perhaps a sweet treat before dinner or a nibble of a new food we had never tasted. It involved a little whining on our part before my grandma would finally chime in "Oh, give 'em some or you'll give 'em a bulla," with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Strangely, my sisters and I never actually asked what a "bulla" was. For years, I imagined a bulla as a shiver. Something that made your shoulders shake back and forth or like the feeling I get that crawls up my spine when I hear the sound of velcro or Robin Thicke. My little sister Gracie once said she thought a bulla was something old women wore wrapped around their heads. She may have been confusing it with a 'babushka,' but it's safe to say we were all a little confused. When asked, my grandma would usually describe it as a "a little spot because you didn't get what you wanted."

Knowing my grandma to be a little strange, I assumed a bulla to be completely fictional. Years of reading The National Enquirer and The World News could do weird things to a person, and my grandma had a subscription to both. She once warned my cousin Steven that farting and burping at the same time would lead to spontaneous combustion, and eased Sara's fears of entering her dark and creepy basement by saying "If the monster eats you up, he'll just shit you out." Considering the source, I concluded that surely I couldn't develop a spot or boil by being denied a cookie or a piece of salami. Nevertheless, the concept of a bulla always stuck with me.

So at the age of 24, I decided to do a little research. When asked, my grandma says the origin of the bulla starts with her father. Apparently, she accepted the theory as fact and passed the information to her children and grandchildren. I then turned to the internet for further investigation. With a simple google search, I was linked to MedicineNet.com. And there it was, a bulla. According to the site, a bulla is "a fluid filled blister no more than 5 mm in diameter with thin walls or any rounded protrusion or boil (A BOIL!), particularly one that is hollow or cystic." Albeit disgusting, my grandma was right...sort of. Granted the definition doesn't make mention of being denied a potato chip or tootsie roll as the cause, a bulla is a real thing! Imagine my suprise.

So I realized that my grandma's definition of a bulla was the perfect blend of scientific fact and folksy fiction. And better yet, what a lovely way to live. Try a little of this, dabble in that. The point is to not deny yourself. Have a taste! And that's the aim of this blog. I certainly have the time and the resources (kind of) to try new things, and what better place than a blog to detail the hilarity that is sure to ensue? Within my means, I hope to finish each week having done something new or different. A new class at the gym, a new recipe, a new hairstyle, anything to spice it up a bit. Because when it boils (no pun intended) down to it, who wants a bulla?