Free Stuff + "I'm covered in BEES"
While cleaning out the old room, I came across two items that Max claims were left in the closet when he first moved in. I'll give them to the first person to come to my house and take them both:
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The co-op party yesterday was pretty fun, even though it was so hot that it dampened the spirits of even the partyingist of coop employees. There was good food, and it was fun to hang out with everyone. Randi and I went on the cement slide, and on our last trip down, the piece of cardboard I had selected bumped the back of my heel, which had been healing nicely from the blisters I got from my new REI shoes. Bumped blister began to bleed. This told me and Randi that it was time to go. It didn't hurt, it was just gorey. She took pictures.
While we were saying good bye (literally), I got stung by a bee. Right square on the left ass cheek. I thought to myself, "Ow. That hurt. Did I just get stung? Fuck. I just got stung." Devoted readers may remember that I am, in fact, required to carry around an EpiPen with me in case of stingings by that maverick of the Vespidae family, the bald-faced hornet (which is actually a wasp, or a yellowjacket, even thought its black and white). Devoted readers will also understand, then, why I started to freak the fuck out, because I didn't see exactly what stung me. I haven't been stung since I was wittle-itty-bitty, and its really quite remarkable how quickly I regressed. Tears were shed.
Randi took me to the bathroom, and we looked at my ass to make sure I wasn't having an allergic reaction. I think I produced enough adrenaline on my own to combat the worst allergic reation, because aside from some normal swelling and dear-god-this-hurts-ness, there was no reaction. Its identity shall remain forever shrouded in mystery (though I'm guessing it was a wasp of some sort, since I'm pretty sure it got me twice and there was no stinger to pull out).
If you're keeping score at home, that's twice this week now that I've almost had to use my EpiPen, after more than a year of carrying them around with me everywhere.
- Zen garden set (still in plastic wrap) - you know, the kind with the sand and the little rocks and the tiny rake?
- Zen incense ceremony kit (also still in plastic wrap)
~~~~
The co-op party yesterday was pretty fun, even though it was so hot that it dampened the spirits of even the partyingist of coop employees. There was good food, and it was fun to hang out with everyone. Randi and I went on the cement slide, and on our last trip down, the piece of cardboard I had selected bumped the back of my heel, which had been healing nicely from the blisters I got from my new REI shoes. Bumped blister began to bleed. This told me and Randi that it was time to go. It didn't hurt, it was just gorey. She took pictures.
While we were saying good bye (literally), I got stung by a bee. Right square on the left ass cheek. I thought to myself, "Ow. That hurt. Did I just get stung? Fuck. I just got stung." Devoted readers may remember that I am, in fact, required to carry around an EpiPen with me in case of stingings by that maverick of the Vespidae family, the bald-faced hornet (which is actually a wasp, or a yellowjacket, even thought its black and white). Devoted readers will also understand, then, why I started to freak the fuck out, because I didn't see exactly what stung me. I haven't been stung since I was wittle-itty-bitty, and its really quite remarkable how quickly I regressed. Tears were shed.
Randi took me to the bathroom, and we looked at my ass to make sure I wasn't having an allergic reaction. I think I produced enough adrenaline on my own to combat the worst allergic reation, because aside from some normal swelling and dear-god-this-hurts-ness, there was no reaction. Its identity shall remain forever shrouded in mystery (though I'm guessing it was a wasp of some sort, since I'm pretty sure it got me twice and there was no stinger to pull out).
If you're keeping score at home, that's twice this week now that I've almost had to use my EpiPen, after more than a year of carrying them around with me everywhere.