Thoughts on Parasites

Every morning, when the alarm goes off far earlier than I would like, I find myself reluctantly pulled from typically the most interesting dreams of the night and thrust into this nightmare known as ‘Responsibility.’ First, before I continue, I’d like to send an imaginary middle finger to the concept of responsibility. 

Alright, that done, I would like to give you, my imaginary reader, the heebie jeebies… (otherwise known as the willies, the jitters, the creeps, et cetera)… I guess I’m sadistic like that. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

After being pulled into reality every morning, I begin my normal daily routine. I won’t get too in depth about the boringness that is my life, but I will give you a wee glimpse. After yawning like a grizzly bear post-hibernation, I lumber out of the bedroom in a rather disgruntled fashion. My minion, Savannah, follows me sleepily, but, as is normal for her, happily. Sometimes I wish I was a dog. They’ve got it so easy. Every morning, I devote a few moments to scratching her behind the ears, kissing the velvet soft fur between her ear and the top of her head, letting her know that I’m grateful that she’s my dog. Seriously, unless you’ve had a dog that you’ve truly loved, you wouldn’t understand.

Well, this morning started off like every morning. The annoying beep of the alarm intruding an interesting dream in which… well… now that I think about it, the dream made no sense… but I found it interesting. With a groan, I hauled my bulk from the bed like the Kraken rising from the sea. As normal, I started giving my pup some morning lovies with my sleepy eyes half closed in memory of the sleep from which I was so rudely awakened. Kissing her between her ear and the top of her head, I noticed something VERY wrong.

That, my friends, is a tick. A ginormous ugly disgusting gag-inducing tick. Needless to say, I was instantly awake… If I have one thing I fear, detest, and loathe more than anything (even more than spiders… and that’s saying something), it would be parasites. Ticks, fleas, lice, tapeworms, etc… parasites make me… oh dear god, I can’t even explain it. I just… *shudder* Yuck. Just… just yuck.

So I started my day kissing a tick. Faaaaannnn-tastic. After freaking out… no… that’s putting it mildly… I flipped the fuck out… Then I had to remove it… I’ll spare you the details because I feel like throwing up just retelling my traumatic experience.  Here’s the sonuvabitch post-removal, pre-vomit…

Yes. I threw up. Twice. Gross.

So, this was how my day started. Parasites. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

… and then my co-worker started talking about the ‘Miracle Of Childbirth’ *insert impressive sounding theme song here*…

…and I got nauseous…

The definition of a parasite (and goddamnit, I don’t feel like citing my source… Go to Google, type in ‘define:parasite’ and read it yourself if you’re that damn anal) is: ‘an animal or plant that lives in or on a host, it obtains nourishment from the host without benefiting or killing the host.’

How is pregnancy not parasitic? It most totally is. A thing… growing inside a female… feeding off of her… growing… depending on her… and then, after a while, it tears itself out of the host body with NO regard to the female’s comfort or well being… and lives outside the host, but is still parasitic – feeding off of her until it is able to chew… and that’s just the ways a baby is physically parasitic…. I haven’t even mentioned monetarily, mentally, emotionally or just… goddamnit babies scare me.

So… every time I hear a mother go on and on about how babies are so wonderful and such miracles, I scoff… They’ve clearly been brainwashed by the little parasites they’ve carried. How is a mother prancing their baby around any different than a person naming their tapeworm and showing strangers pictures of their ‘widdle sweetheart’?  Know what I say everytime someone asks me when I’m going to have a baby? “Pregnancy scares me. Ever seen Alien?”

Okay, I’m babbling. I’m tired… and grossed out.

The point is this: Parasites are gross. Babies are parasites. Therefore babies are gross.

And ticks…. Goddamnit ticks are nasty fuckers.

Jun. 30, 2009 - Vacation

I have returned from a super-mega-awesome vacation that included a Blue October concert road trip, a sleep-over, a huge ass tent, the best steak I've ever eaten in my life, sand in my asscrack, swordfighting a catfish, playing with a turtle, smores, lots of blood and guts, congestion, wearing my fresh kill's skin, sunburn, dirt and minnows all accompanied by the awesomeness of my best friend. On my vacation, I learned many things. I will share these with you now.

1. No matter how awake you are on the drive out to a concert, the return trip home you will be sleepy.
2. Fashionably late is not always a bad thing.
3. My dog is a gluttonous klepto.
4. I'm great at catching small fish.... and turtles.

5. Minnows die way too quickly... and they change color when they die too.

6. People who work in small shops in vacationland like to talk... and have a pathetic sense of humor.

7. SPF 80 does not work.

8. I pop inflatable things.

9. Catfish don't die.

10. Wire cutters are a camping necessity. So are quarters, apparently. And really really sharp knives.

11. Blood does NOT come out of your favorite sundress.

12. Geese will talk back to you if you are nerdy enough to talk to them first.

13. Do NOT back your car down the hill.

14. Camp store wood does not taste as good as Lou's dad's wood... woah, that sounds bad... um... rephrase: the wood they sell at the store does not taste as good as the wood Lou's dad gave us..... nope.. that sounds bad too.... The wood we took with us was better than the wood we purchased.... fuck it. That shit made our meat taste friggin awesome!

15. Packing a tent back into the bag is damn near impossible.

16. I apologize too much.

17. I have a paralyzing fear of latrines.

18. Third times a charm in perfecting the art of campfire potatoes.

19. Smores = dangerous.

20. I am allergic to outside.

21. My dreams constantly try to ruin my vacation - I spent the whole time dreaming about work.

22. My best friend is a better fisherman than I am.

23. I hate my job.

24. Towels do NOT provide traction when you are stuck in the dirt.

25. Small-mouth Bass have skin you can peel off.

26. Once submerged in seaweedy lake water, books are fairly useless.

27. That plant actually WAS poison ivy.

28. I am not photogenic.

29. I can still scream like a little girl.

30. Catfish are zombies. Seriously.

May 23, 2009 - Thoughts

Spending hours at the gym, sweating, aching, and racking up the mileage does something to me. When I leave the gym, despite the fact that I'm exhausted, stinky, sweaty and all red and splotchy, I feel invincible. I feel strong. I feel untouchable. I feel intriguing.

But most of all.....

I feel beautiful.

... and then I see my reflection... and all that fades.

But for those brief moments, I realize why I push myself so hard to do so much. I remember how it feels to feel alive.

May 13, 2009 - Gone

Alarm clock. Slap it. Check time. Groan.
Blankets over head, finger to the world.

And then it hits you.
Slap in the face.

Gone.

Sit up. Breathe in. Breathe Out. Cry.
Place head in your hands, place elbows on knees.


And let it hit you.
Punch to the gut.


Gone.



Get up. Left Foot. Right Foot. Stand.
Select clothes for day, then pull on your shoes.


Have to work through it.
Suffocating.


Gone.


Sit down. Lay down. Curl Up. Sob.
Blankets over head, finger to the world.


Call in sick to work.
This is MY grief.

May 15, 2009 - Run Jacq, Run

Run, Jacq, run.
Run in the rain, dodge the lightning, embrace the thunder.

(Lonely rooms, stacked with boxes. You left nothing for me to do. Nothing but read your journals. Read your journals and cry.)

Stumble. Fall. Get up, bitch.

(Jesus Christ, I'm tired. I don't want to run anymore. I want to drink. I want to drink a lot. I want to get stupid and do the Pee Wee Herman dance on the bar. No fat chicks allowed on the bar.)

See? Jacq, RUN! Run, Jacq. Run?

(At least I've got your blanket.)

In the words of the Dresden Dolls:

"I run as fast as I can,
but Jacq comes tumbling after...
i'm halfway home now
half hoping
for a showdown
cause i'm not big enough to house this crowd
it might destroy me
but i'd sacrifice my body
if it meant i'd get the Jacq part out"

(I miss you.)

May 19, 2009 - Lovers

They were standing in the middle of campus while I was having a smoke. The unbelievably cloudless blue sky stood back and watched the golden rays of the sun dance on the water in the pretentious man-made pond. The breeze, rustling through the infant trees, seemed to be on a mission to lift my skirt, to expose my favorite underwear to the world. And there they were - standing in the middle of the walkway, lacking care or concern for any students whose way they may be blocking.

They stood facing each other, the breeze whipping her hair around her face in a much kinder gentler way than it does to mine. He was smiling down at her. She was smiling up at him. He touched her face just like you used to touch mine. He laughed at something she said. She flirtatiously lowered her eyes. He brushed the hair away from her neck and leaned in to whisper something in her ear... the way you did when you first told me you loved me.

I listened for the snap, click of metal, the sharp slap, the cry of pain.

It never came.

And suddenly, I hated them.

May 5, 2009 - Dandelion

Cigarette ashes on the stove, constellations of black against the little-used white metal. Sky so blue it's almost white, tree blossoms breaking apart in the breeze. My thoughts as scattered as the petals of the shattered flowers, accumulating in corners, turning brown. Thoughts whirling, spinning, circling, almost tangibly, like a whirlpool of thick liquid going down a drain. What is it all for? To wake up every day and know exactly how your day is going to go. Who you will talk to, what you will say, how many fake laughs you will force through your throat to crack the rusty hinges of your lips. So, you feel like a dandelion in the manicured lawn of life... What makes you so fucking special?