In my life, I have had three highly improbable, flying-insect with stinger related, traumatic events.  Any one of them I could forgive, but now I'm pissed.  All stinging insects should be exterminated.... completely wiped off the face of the planet.

I know what you're going to say... bees polinate flowers, which in turn convert carbon dioxide to oxygen.  If we got rid of all bees, we'd eventually screw the ecosystem and destroy life as we know it.  Cry me a river, liberal.  Bees die when they sting us, and we'll never defeat them until we adopt the same mentality.  Once you read my 3 bee stories, you'll understand my point of view.

Bee story #1

I believe I was 5-ish years old.  I was in the backyard behind my parents house.  I had to go to the bathroom, but was feeling too lazy to walk across the full-acre backyard to the house.  I decided the haystack behind the barn would be a good place to take a piss (pardon the rather vulgar wording). 

I admit, I noticed a yellow jacket flying around...  but I didn't pay any attention to it.  I hadn't learned they were the enemy yet.

I unzipped my pants, and started to take a leak, when the yellow jacket decided to land directly on my penis.  I repeat... the yellow jacket landed directly on my penis.

I've heard the true measure of a man can only be taken in situations of dire stress... war, family members dying, etc.  That's wussy stuff... you don't truly find out who you are until you've had a yellow jacket land on your penis.

Incidentally, it turns out that I'm a very stupid man when measured.

I looked down my penis and stared at the yellow jacket.  His eyes met mine... I swear to God the little S.O.B. grinned.  I think a tumbleweed might have fluttered by in the distance.

Apparently my knee-jerk reaction to noticing an insect on my body is to hit that part of the body as hard as I can.

That's right, I hit myself in the penis as hard as I could.

I missed... the damn thing had already stung me... and flew away.  I'm pretty sure he was laughing his ass off.  Not only did he sting me, he conned me into punching myself in the gonads. 

Like any good 5 year old, I ran back into the house crying.  My mother and brother were sitting in the kitchen.  Between sobs I let them know a bee had stung me.  My mother asked where I was stung... she could rub some salve on it to ease the pain.  I said I was stung in my "special place". 

My Mom, ever sympathetic, choked out "Are You Serious!?!?!".  Then she nearly fell over laughing.

My brother, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, quipped "So Mom, are you still going to rub salve on it?"

I ran away embarrassed, crying to myself.  Thus my deathly fear of all flying insects that sting began.  To this day I claim I had an allergic reaction to the sting, permanently causing the affected area to grow to tremendous size ;).

Bee Story 2:

(Note this story has one bee-stress related moment of stupidity, and one moment of stupidity that I can only claim as my own)

Fast forward about 18 years later.  I had been playing alot of basketball, and had torn my meniscus.  I had to get arthroscopic surgery.

The surgery went well, and I was sitting in my room recovering.  They had given me an epidural for the surgery, numbing me from the waste down.  They had also given me a number of sedatives to calm me down.

I was still groggy from the surgery when the doctor said I could go home as long as I demonstrated I could go to the bathroom.  Through my drug induced haze, that sounded pretty easy.  I tried to locate the hole in my boxers so I could pull "Mr. Happy" out and urinate.

I had no idea how much finding the hole in your boxers depended on not being numb from the waste down.  Normally, your boxers bulge near the hole, and you simply pull apart the bulge to reveal the hole.  You can tell the difference between the bulge near the hole and the bulge created by "your manhood" by feel.  Until you are given an epidural.

I spent about 15 minutes trying to pull my penis apart through the fabric until I realized it was the wrong bulge.  This was my own fault---  I was still wasted from the sedatives... and believe me I paid for my mistake once the painkillers wore off.

Eventually I did go to the bathroom, and they let me leave the hospital.  As I just had surgery on my knee, they wheeled me out to the car in a wheelchair.  As fate would have it, a bee landed on my leg.

I freaked... I shot out of my chair like a bullet and sprinted across the parking lot.  Surprisingly, you're not supposed to start sprinting within an hour or so of knee surgery.

I had to get another knee surgery.  At this point, I was starting to develop a very healthy dislike for all flying insects.

Bee Story 3:

 

I was on the freeway, in stop-and-go traffic.  I was in the "stop" portion of the program when I noticed a bee had landed on my windshield.  Now thoroughly biased against bees, I quite happily turned on my wipers to give it a smack.  The wipers hit it, and pinned that bad boy directly against my hood.

 

Ten minutes later, traffic had cleared up.  I was cruising down the highway going around 70 when I noticed a strange buzzing coming from the air vent in the dash.  I remember thinking to myself – no way in hell man, no way in hell.

 

One minute later the bee I had pinned against the hood with the wipers was struggling to come out of the air vent in my dash.  Yet again I freaked.  I started smacking the air vent as hard as I could.  All the desperate banging on the vent did was dislodge the bee, and he started flying around my car. 

 

It didn't occur to me until I saw red and blue flashing in my mirror that I had completely stopped paying attention to my driving.  Trying to calm myself, I stopped swinging at the bee, slowed the car down and pulled over.  The bee promptly stung me.

 

At least I figured I had a hell of an excuse for erratic driving.

 

Again I was wrong…

 

Apparently, if you are a cop, you hear this story twice a day.  It's one of the oldest excuses in the book for speeding.  People even go so far as to keep a dead bee on their dash to give the story more credibility.  The cops eventually notice the dust that has accumulated on the bee after laying on the dash for four months.

 

Needless to say, I got the ticket.

 

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These are 3 fluke occurrences… they are so statistically unlikely in their totality that I have to believe the bees are organized and deliberately targeting me.    

I wrote this story/journal a number of months ago.  I saw it on my computer today after a reformat, and now it kind of amuses me.  It’s a long and rambling (and not particularly well written) rant about my ex-girlfriend.  It’s kind of interesting to look back at in retrospect… kind of an idiot’s guide to a bad break up of a long relationship – not a break up caused by something egregiously wrong with the relationship, but just not quite enough right to keep it going.   Again, not my best work, but I figure somebody who just left a long-term relationship, who is still figuring out/scared about dating after a number of years, might find it helpful.  If only as a guide of what not to do…

I will be mocking the previous author (me a number of months ago) in bold as I read along now.   

I'm a little... no, make that a lot… confused by female behavior these days.

I'm 32 years old, and I've been single for over a year.  Prior to this point, I've had three girlfriends over the past 11 years... one of 2+ years, one of about 4 months, and one of 7+ years   One day I woke up, I was 32 and single, and at the moment I'm trying to figure out where the last 10 years went.  Unfortunately, I just didn't know I was truly single until recently... I'll get into that in a bit.  (Wow, who here is sympathetic for me at this point in the story?  I think I’m deliberately looking for pity here…)

A little over a year ago, my girlfriend of 7+ years broke up with me because I wouldn't marry her.  I'm not bitter about that decision, I didn't put up much of a fight - it was the right decision at the time.  I know why I wasn't ready to marry her, there are multiple   reasons (That’s right, apparently I thought someone would be interested by the stupid little minutiae of a defunct relationship.  Feel free to read these reasons if you are also interested in A) Causing yourself pain, B) Watching paint dry, C) Danielle Steele novels, or D) You are currently battling insomnia):

1.  She was intermittently insecure.  Little problems, like her finances, would cause her to be very unhappy for days at a time.  And there were lots of little problems to upset her.  I realize that little problems can be important, but I generally don't sweat the stuff I can't fix on any given day.  But I am empathetic - I found myself worrying about small stuff just because it upset her.  Small stuff doesn't bother me at all, but my girlfriend being upset does... I generally view it as my job to make her happy.  I was vicariously being upset by small stuff, and that really bothered me.  Left to my own devices I’m a happy person, I’m pretty much always singing and cracking jokes.  These days, I realize that some of this is my problem - to be with someone else, I need to learn not to have my emotions get caught up in my girlfriend’s problems.  I just need to be there for her as support. (I love this… I believe this part, but it is also a deliberately calculated pose in case there are any single women reading this.  All together now – awwwwwwwwwwwww!)

2.  She used to intermittently get in fights with my friends/family.  My friends and family are very opinionated, and sometimes they have pretty wild opinions.  I completely admit, sometimes it is difficult for me not to get in a fight with them. I’m guessing in no small part due to the reasons listed in (1), every once in a while she would get upset because one of my friends/family disagreed with her.  She didn't hide that fact very well, and she got into a few rather heated exchanges with my friends/family.  This didn't happen very often, but the few times it did made me constantly worry about it happening again.  Some of my friends/family are very difficult - for me to deal with them I have to control the environment... avoid potential problems.  She was an X-factor, and it stressed me.  I don't believe you should ever get in a fight with your significant others' friends/family.  You can always walk away from a fight.  Still, considering how difficult my family is, I may have had unrealistic expectations of her.  I need to learn to deal with my family without feeling the need to control every little detail to avoid fights – and when they do get in fights I need to simply not care.  That’s not her fault, its mine.  My family is difficult – they will always get in fights – I need to learn to live with that. (Deliberate pose number 2 -  How am I not beating the women off with a stick at this point?)        

3. I wasn't ready to get married.  I'm a PhD student in Neural Engineering at U of M - hopefully in my last year.  My brother was in the process of killing himself through drugs/alcohol, and I was spending much of my time in Arizona trying to prevent it from happening.  My grandmother's health was continuing to deteriorate... she was very old, and finally passed away, but it wasn't pretty at the end.  There were a myriad of other significant problems with my family of similar import.  PhD students by definition have to focus on themselves and their work; my focus was already being pulled away by a series of very serious family problems.  My ex-girlfriend’s dad was a recovered alcoholic – her father made it on his own, so she felt I spent too much time on my brother.  Eventually my brother overdosed and died, and I was frustrated my girlfriend didn’t completely support me in my efforts to prevent it.  Again – a very hard situation, and perhaps I had very unrealistic expectations of my girlfriend.  Everything had been so crazy the last two years - I do very much want to get married and have kids - it just wasn't the time.  Now that’s the ordeal is finally over, I can start seriously thinking about marriage. (Hard to mock this part… it would be like making “Momma” jokes at the baby seal you’d just finished clubbing)

4.  I believed she wanted to get married for the wrong reasons.  She hadn't established an identity after college - she wasn't happy with her career and it bothered her unduly.  She often felt embarrassed at the direction her career was taking, and she thought other people's opinions of her were lowered because of it.  I was the safety net - I bailed her out of a number of financial problems.   I felt she looked at getting married and becoming a "stay at home mother" as a way to justify her life to her friends and family.  I wasn't sure she wanted to get married just because she loved me (which she did); it was instead her way of establishing a socially acceptable identity.  To get married, you need to love yourself first.  Until you do, I'm not sure you can truly love someone else.  There is also the possibility, however, that I was just reading too much into things because I wasn’t ready to get married myself. (Oh, thank god that’s over… if you are still reading at this point, send me a message and I will buy you a beer)      

I thought she could become the girl I wanted to be with forever - she had grown alot over the last 7 years, but she wasn't quite there yet.  What do you do when you are 50/50 about marrying someone?  After 7 years, my ex-girlfriend was tired of waiting - I understand.  The last year and a half were strained; she felt she was auditioning for marriage and it stressed our relationship.  She would cry, or come close to crying, every time the subject of marriage came up on television - you wouldn't believe how often it comes up. (This is kind of interesting here… most relationships end due to fighting/infidelity.  There always seems to be an obvious reason to end it.  What do you do when you are truly on the fence?)

Things became even more strained when my brother kept overdosing and I kept running to Arizona to help.  She didn't want to go to dinner with my parents for my birthday because my parents only talked about my brother’s alcohol/drug problem.  She called me up in AZ literally 5 minutes after I walked out of the hospital after seeing my brother in a coma for the first time.  She gave an ultimatum - essentially “I need to know we’re getting married or I'm going to Minnesota to live with my brother for the summer.”  I was furious; how the hell do you say that in that situation? (And the answer… wait for your significant other to shove you off the fence hard!)

I had come pretty close to proposing a few weeks before she uttered those words, but that ultimatum made me second guess myself.  She apologized later… she always does.  Occasionally she makes mistakes, but she's introspective; eventually she realizes the error and does genuinely try not to make the same mistake twice.  I do respect and love that quality in her – but sometimes a first mistake is so egregious that it’s hard to give a second chance. 

Her parting remark after she broke up with me was "If you ever decide you can't live without me, please come back."  When we broke up, I did think we would get back together eventually.  I felt she needed to be single for awhile to establish some more confidence in herself and her ability to stand on her own.  She had been leaning on me too much during and after college, she needed to stand on her own two feet.  Then we could be together as equals. (I think I was again kissing up to single women who might be reading up to this point.  I had to deliberately put in the bit about “equals”… I do believe it, but it’s really pathetic to include it just to look open-minded)    

Now is where the female confusion sets in.  After the break-up, I made it explicitly clear I didn't want to have any contact.  I did/do love her, and I didn't think either of us could handle the thought of the other dating.  I flat out told her, I didn't want to know if she was dating someone else.  Moreover, the whole point was she needed to be completely on her own to grow.

Despite that fact, for 6 months or so after the break up, I was talking to her on the phone once a week and seeing her twice a month.  There was always something of mine to return, or some sort of problem to resolve.  I never called her - I thought that would be unfair of me.  My roommate thought she had a box of my stuff and was bringing it back one item at a time.  Dropping off an item seemed to lead to a dinner and a movie together.  This lasted until December - I found out later she really thought we were going to get back together in December. (I’ll ruin the surprise ending here… this is going to end badly… and yes, the Bruce Willis character is actually dead)

After December, my brother really went downhill, and I got distracted; but my ex-girlfriend and I still talked on the phone once a week.  There was a brief period for a month and a half where we didn't see each other in person.  Then we started seeing each other twice a month - going for a walk - seeing a movie and grabbing dinner.  We had a great time… the only way I can describe it is that it was like coming home again. 

She kept making comments - how much she missed me, how she still loved me, how she dated other guys but they didn't compare, etc.  She called up at Easter almost crying; she wanted to come over and be with my family.  She called up on the 1 year anniversary of our break up saying how much that thought upset her.  Who the hell even remembers the one year anniversary of a break-up?  I forget – is the one year break-up anniversary the diamond anniversary, or the toilet paper their house anniversary? (Alright… this still cracks me up.  I wonder if I’ll get calls at the 5 and 10 year break-up anniversary.)

 I had deliberately not called her to set up these outings - I thought I would be leading her on; but after my brother passed in March, I started calling her also.  I seriously started to entertain thoughts of getting back together - knowing that if we did, it was to get married.  My life had changed with my brother’s passing, I was the executor of his estate - I had to grow up.  I spent a lot of time in Arizona with my sisters talking about their marriages and the work they put into them.  I started to realize that love isn't about finding someone who is perfect – it’s about loving all of someone - including their flaws. (Oh dear God, how cloying.  And we will teach all the little children of the world to hold hands and sing for world peace…)

I cancelled dates with other girls - I didn't want to lead them on, and I thought it would be unfair to my ex-girlfriend if I was seeing her and dating other people.  I should note – our time together after December was innocent – we never even kissed.  But the things she kept saying, and the fact she kept calling, had me convinced she wanted to get back together. 

I was about to ask her thoughts on getting back together when things really got weird.  We were supposed to go to a movie - she said she couldn’t go - she sounded upset.  I asked her if everything was ok.  She told me she had been dating a guy since December, they were supposed to move in together, and she just found out he was cheating on her. 

You could have flown a 747 into my mouth as my jaw hit the floor (I think I was proud of this metaphor at the time).  What the bloody hell?!?!?!  I realize I originally said I didn’t want to know if she was dating another guy – I also said I wanted no contact - but she had to know she would have to tell me at some point.  And the fact that she didn’t tell him she was seeing me twice a month, calling me once a week – and the things she said - I repeat …what the bloody hell? (Future me still says --- what the bloody hell?)   

Apparently, she had been dating this guy for 7 months, and didn't tell me.  What’s worse, she hadn't told him about me either.  I let her know that I had been thinking about getting back together.  She said she was confused, she didn't know what to do, and she needed time to think.  She said she still loved me, that the other guy wasn’t the issue.  She had established a new life, and she wasn’t sure if she could leave it; there’s irony for you – we break up because she hadn’t established her own life – and now that she had, it was too intertwined with her new boyfriend to leave him. (How about a cross between true irony and Alanis Morisette irony… otherwise known as Mor-onic?)

I gave her time - she moved in with the guy... but still said she needed more time to think (This is funny in retrospect… it’s like watching a horror movie… don’t go in the basement to check out the sound you idiot!).  We talked the day after she moved in with him - she said she kept wishing she was moving in with me as she moved in, and that she only unpacked items that were easy to repack.  I don't know what happened with the cheating thing exactly.  Apparently he had been talking to girls on myspace, but nothing came of it - I don't know the details.  Hell, I wouldn't blame the guy if he had cheated- she had been seeing her ex-boyfriend of 7 years - telling her ex she still loved him - and didn't breathe a word to her current boyfriend. (Run you crazy fool… run fast, run hard, but for the love of God… just Run!!!)

I know she was very confused – I do understand that.  She left me hanging for about 2 months without a decision about if we would try to make our relationship work.   Every time we talked - every e-mail - was “You’re amazing, I know I would be happy with you, I don’t know what’s stopping me.” or “Right now, I’m regretting my choice of not being with you.”

We have now cut off all contact, e-mail or otherwise – my idea.

Granted, this story is long as hell and rambling, so I doubt anyone has made it this far.  But if you have, I’m curious – what the hell is going on here?  Somebody get me a female to English dictionary.  All I know is that her actions cannot bode well for her current relationship… I feel sorry for that guy.  He has no clue how much his girlfriend is hiding in her head… information he seriously needs to know about their relationship.

Oddly, I feel sorry for her – I am a good guy – she’s missing out.  More importantly, considering her actions, her relationship with that guy is doomed.  I have no clue what strained logic justifies going to bed with your boyfriend every night while thinking of leaving him for someone else.  I’m disappointed in her… I’d never of thought she’d violate someone’s trust to such an extent.  She’s heading for more pain, and that makes me sad.  Things have been hard for her, she’s very confused, and she’s made some very poor choices that can only lead to more hardship.

I’m trying to move on – I’m starting to date again.  I still love her, and after spending half of my adult life with her, I wanted to try to make things work.  But everyday, the thought of being with her fades a little more.  Re-reading this story, I wonder why I’m being such a schmuck – why I’m moving on so slowly.  I have to wonder why I still think a story about my ex-girlfriend, considering her behavior, was even worth the time to write it.  Perhaps coming to that realization, was the only reason to write it.        

Reading this months after it was written, I love the fact that I didn’t include her name once.  Almost a Silence of the Lambs “It does not have a name” sort of pain going on here.  I’m guessing I did it because she was still reading my blog surreptitiously at the time, and I didn’t want to upset her.   

 

Just wondering - I was listening to 80's music tonight, and the thought struck me:

Do you think anyone really doubts that Billy Jean was not Michael Jackson's lover at this point? I bet Michael has reworked the lyrics to "For the Love of God, Billy Jean was my Lover! Why won't someone believe me for Christ's sake!?!"

Perhaps when Michael sang the song "Bad", he wasn't aware of the hip-urban turn of phrase, and meant it to be taken a bit more literally.

Just a thought...

A bunch of years back, I wrote a skit/monologue, basically a satire on the whole abortion issue. My friend Scott wanted something to read while at work, so I quickly typed it up from memory. It's not finished, as I never really polished it/fleshed it out, and I am going from memory. This skit is very offensive; hell, I wrote it… and I'm offended, but it is meant to be satire. If you are easily offended, or even not so easily offended, please do not read further. Amber, I absolutely forbid you to read further (which will probably guarantee you read this skit):

=== Entrance: An actor (preferably Dave Foley from Kids in the Hall) is sitting in front of the American Flag, flowing majestically. America the Beautiful is playing lightly in the background. Dave looks directly into the camera.

Dave: Today I would like to address the very serious topic of abortion. Many people are vehemently against the whole idea of abortion. These Pro-Life individuals believe that the act of aborting a fetus, a blastomere, or even a zygote, is murder.

--- The camera angle changes, and Dave redirects to look directly into the camera again.

Dave: These individuals make me sick; they simply don't go far enough. They overlook one very important thing: my sperm. Just as every zygote is a life, every sperm has the potential for life. This is why I am in favor of legislation forcing hot women to have sex with me!

Dave: Every day, millions of my sperm die, each one a possible doctor, architect, or astronaut. This a tragedy on par with The Holocost, with the A.I.D.S. epidemic, and with all the soldiers lost in World War I and II. These deaths are needless, as they could easily be avoided as long as hot women are forced to have sex with me.

Dave (conspiratorially, bending over slightly towards the camera, bringing one hand next to his mouth to direct sound): Now, some people ask me, why should we only force hot women to have sex with you? To these people, I inevitably respond in one of two ways:

--- (Smiling, and delivered in almost beatific, matter of fact manner):

Dave: First, and most often: shut the fuck up!

Dave: Second (hands spread wide) - Because I can get the ugly bitches myself!

Dave (building to a crescendo): I have a dream! I dream of a world in which I am mobbed by beautiful women, each begging to have sex with me. I dream one day of a beautiful woman being pulled over by a police officer.

In my dream she asks "Why was I pulled over… for speeding?".

And the officer responds (in an almost patronizing, shocked tone) "No, because you are not currently having sex with Dave!"

In my dream, the officer is also a beautiful babe. They both jump in the car, turn the sirens on, and speed to my apartment to have sex with me.

--- The scene changes from Dave to a mob outside a courthouse. An attractive female reporter is on camera in the foreground, narrating the scene:

Reporter: I am standing outside the Supreme Court Building, awaiting the court's decision on the controversial law forcing hot women to have sex with The Kids in the Hall's Dave Foley. In the landmark case of Hot Women Vs. Foley, Hot Women have asked that the law be struck down, and all women be awarded punitive damages. In this case, the only punitive damages would be that every woman in America be allowed to give Dave a swift kick to the crotch.

--- An intern rushes up to the reporter, and whispers in her ear.

Reporter (to the intern): Oh shit, you're kidding me!

--- Suddenly looking up, remembering the camera is there:

Reporter (to the camera): In a landmark 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court has voted to uphold the law forcing hot women to have sex with Dave Foley!

--- The camera pans to the Supreme Court Building, where five male judges in black robes come out of the building joking and exchanging high fives. Four female judges follow, shaking their heads in disgust.

Author's Note: I have no pride, so if anyone has any ideas on how to improve this bad boy, please let me know.