Every night when I return home to the trusty townhouse, I am greeted by a veil of unwelcome visitors. It is an entomologist's playground. They congregate around porch lights like Americans to reality TV. It took me about 10 minutes to actually walk through my doorway and get inside tonight. I stood from a safe distance ruminating on the creepiness of bugs (especially the flying ones), and every time I would build up courage and step up to the door, I would lose it before getting my key in.
Don't get me wrong, bugs have always been creepy: but they were nevermore so than after this weekend, when I became fairly well acquainted with one.
It was about two in the morning and Brian was getting ready to leave my house. I went downstairs to the back porch and let my dog outside to do her thing. As I was waiting beneath the infamous porch light, a moth made a dive for my head and I calmly swatted away. Well, apparently this meant war, and with the next swoop he got me good- real good.
HE FLEW INTO MY EARHOLE.
We are talking all the way in folks.
Panic followed.
I am not sure who was flipping out more, me or the bug. But apparently I freaked out enough to drop the s-bomb. This is quite a rare occasion indeed.
As he flitted about against my eardrum I let out whispered screams for help. I couldn't yell because my mom was sleeping downstairs, so these hoarse noises of desperation were sounded repeatedly as I ran to the stairs calling Brian. He ran downstairs and found me crumpled at the bottom... in the fetal position while swatting frantically at my head. Very high-pitched, unintelligible rambling was emanating from my mouth, which was on a face contorted dramatically with fear.
I was pretty calm about the whole ordeal.
The bug on the other hand, was totally freaking out. I knew, because his wings were BANGING against my EARDRUM. It sounded like a humming bird got stuck inside a bongo or something. Every once in a while, he would calm down, and for a moment, just a moment, my insanity resided. Then he would freak out again.
I really couldn't take it. Now I know what makes me go uncontrollably wacky.
After 10 minutes of me convulsing in utter terror and anguish, I totally wanted my mommy. So we woke her up, scared her a bit when she saw me cupping my ear in a death grip, and cried for help. After shining lights to coerce him out, he let me know that obviously he was flipping out because he could not, in fact, turn around. The two of us came to sort of an understanding at that moment. Neither of us stopped panicking though. Through his wild flitting and exhausted gasps, somehow I became aware that his name was Henry.
After about 30 minutes we knew we had to go to the emergency room. Henry was still just as energetic and desperate as ever, and I couldn't take it anymore. So before we left I convinced my mom to pour olive oil down my ear and suffocate the trapped fellow. I had never felt a more tangible and immediate sense of relief flow over me than when that olive oil was flowing down my ear canal and Henry stopped moving.
I never thought I would be so thrilled with death. I guess bugs are an exception.
We went to the emergency room at Christus Santa Rosa (this is about 3:00 on a saturday night/sunday morning) And a nice man squirted my ear with a plastic syringe full of warm water. This cost us $75 - even with insurance, mind you.
The beaten body of Henry floated out into a tray, and for the first time, I looked him in the...abdomen. I couldn't really see because I didn't have my contacts in, but as far as I could tell he looked analagous to a large grain of black wild rice. The sans-contacts issue was interesting when signing all the paperwork. I had to bend down and practically put my nose on the paper to see where the X was. The paperwork took much longer than the bug removal process. It is a good thing we gave them all that information though, because if I had died they would have known that I did not, in fact, have a will. Also, they would have been aware that I am associated with the United Methodist Church. This way they know who to call to deal with the burial and such.
Anyway, after a crazy night with my two favorite people (Mom and Bri), we stopped off at whataburger and had a little breakfast biscuit party until about 4:30 or so. Then it was time for bed.
So when you see me wearing earmuffs in the summertime, now you will understand why.
9.29.2005
9.17.2005
9.08.2005
Ya know, I am kind of a big deal around here...
disregard title if you do not recognize the phrase from an unspeakably lame (but mildly funny) movie.
The one thing I struggle with most is wanting to debate and reason out everything. Some would say this isn't a bad thing and I would agree- to an extent. That extent is faith. Not that there is no room for logic and reason in faith, but it dilutes it a bit- makes it pointless.
Herein lies the problem: debating is too easy, and rarely does anything come with it. People can say they are going into a debate with an open mind, which I am sure they believe. They are wrong. Ultimately, facts never change a person's heart. Often they are too busy getting their panties in a wad while debating.
This is one of those lessons that God doesn't just teach you. This is one of those lessons where God has to teach you, and teach you, and teach you, and then bang you over the head with it, and then bang some more.... etc.
It is difficult for me to learn, because I like facts, and I won't lie... they like me back.
I know alot. I can argue lots of things, and especially if they are God things. This often leads me, (or I am constantly afraid that it does/will lead me) to feel rather self-important. [LAME. As if I could take credit for knowledge, and as if it makes me important.] I hate that. Then I end up trying to appear humble by claiming that I don't really know much. (When it comes to the grand scheme of things, I really don't- and I understand this.) But that is false self-deprication.
Folks, self-deprication is a sad excuse for humility. If humility is a woman(and it isn't..at ALL), then self-deprecation is like a man who cross dresses and calls himself a gender neutral name. He might fool some people, but dude, when he talks, it is all over.
Humility should not require stifling of knowledge, but rather, the realization of its vanity in light of the truth.
The one thing I struggle with most is wanting to debate and reason out everything. Some would say this isn't a bad thing and I would agree- to an extent. That extent is faith. Not that there is no room for logic and reason in faith, but it dilutes it a bit- makes it pointless.
Herein lies the problem: debating is too easy, and rarely does anything come with it. People can say they are going into a debate with an open mind, which I am sure they believe. They are wrong. Ultimately, facts never change a person's heart. Often they are too busy getting their panties in a wad while debating.
This is one of those lessons that God doesn't just teach you. This is one of those lessons where God has to teach you, and teach you, and teach you, and then bang you over the head with it, and then bang some more.... etc.
It is difficult for me to learn, because I like facts, and I won't lie... they like me back.
I know alot. I can argue lots of things, and especially if they are God things. This often leads me, (or I am constantly afraid that it does/will lead me) to feel rather self-important. [LAME. As if I could take credit for knowledge, and as if it makes me important.] I hate that. Then I end up trying to appear humble by claiming that I don't really know much. (When it comes to the grand scheme of things, I really don't- and I understand this.) But that is false self-deprication.
Folks, self-deprication is a sad excuse for humility. If humility is a woman(and it isn't..at ALL), then self-deprecation is like a man who cross dresses and calls himself a gender neutral name. He might fool some people, but dude, when he talks, it is all over.
Humility should not require stifling of knowledge, but rather, the realization of its vanity in light of the truth.
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