Bee stings suck.

Hi Stephen,

I hope you're enjoying your weekend.  Is the weather out there cold? It's been a friggin' heat wave around here, in the high 90's all week, and miserable.  I think the thing that makes it so miserable is the humidity. You can actually FEEL the wetness in the air, so it's too hot to do much of anything outdoors.  Thankfully we have central air, and I just got Florence's car filled with more freon for the AC, so it's not so bad going out here and there.

Yesterday I went outside, to see what my dog had been obsessed with all day long---there was one spot near our porch, behind something, that she kept sniffing at, and pawing at, and pointing at.  I thought maybe she heard a chipmunk skittering around or something, (she's a bit of a hunter).  But, when I lifted the object near it, I discovered a dead baby bird.  These birds around here are weird, they decided to build a nest in each of my fake ivy hanging planters on our porch---and they each had 4 babies---so we had all these birds hanging around our porch for months.  Well, while Pete and I were gone, I guess a couple of the babies decided to try and fly, but fell to the ground.  My mom picked them back up and put them in their nests, so none of them were hurt or anything.  But, I guess this one just didn't get found, and didn't make it.  Poor thing.  Breaks my heart.

When I was 2 years old, I wandered off and nobody in the neighborhood could find me for hours.  Turns out I was sound asleep with tears stained down my face, sitting in a neighbor's backyard shed, holding a dead baby bird.  So, for some reason, it really tugs at my heart even now when I see a dead bird.  We found another one in our driveway, it didn't even have any feathers---a naked baby bird---must have fallen out of the grasp of a hawk or crow, we don't know, but there were no nests nearby.  So we've been living in our new house about 3.5 months so far, and have seen about that many dead birds.

It's worse on me whenever I see a dead deer on the side of the road.  I think I had put a photo here for you to see, of 2 baby fawns that we saw in our backyard a couple months ago...we think they were twins.  We bought a huge salt lick and put it near the woods on a pillar for the deer to enjoy, so we can watch them.  Well, last week, coming back home from running an errand, I saw one of them, dead on the side of the road. Somehow I just KNEW it was "our" baby fawn, and I started to cry.  Sure enough, a couple nights later in our yard, there was only one fawn.  It makes me so sad!!  The speed limit around our house and neighborhood is only 25, but people are MORONS and can't seem to go slow.  It just breaks my heart.  Poor little thing never had a chance.

Well, when it comes to little animals like that, I really get upset if anything happens to them.  However, if it's an INSECT...well, that's another story.  KILL THEM ALL!!  I grab a fly swatter, and get spiders because I HATE them, and I HATE stink bugs, and I will smoosh ants, etc...without even blinking an eye.  Rather hypocritical of me, I know, but I just cannot stand insects of any kind. (Except lady bugs, I like them...oh, and butterflies).  But, yesterday while I was discovering this dead baby bird that my dog was freaking out over, I called my mom to come take care of it (grosses me out too much)....so as she was poking at it to lift it out of the area, I noticed a bee near me, so I swished my hand to get away from it, then I walked quickly to another spot, but that little bastard STUNG ME TWICE on my left arm!

Now, I panicked, because I have always been allergic to bee stings.  Typically I turn bright read, swell up like a balloon and can't breathe.  So, I ran to the front door, (which Pete had locked), with thoughts of "fuck, I'm going to die out here on the front damned porch and nobody's going to know it!"  So I beat on the door, near tears, unsure where my Epipen was, (damned thing expired anyway), and as soon as Pete opened the door I ran inside, yelling, "Take me to the hospital! I've been stung by a bee!"  And let me tell you, that sting really HURT for a long time.  My mom put some baking soda on it, and water, and made it into a paste on my arm.  I started seeing bright red splotches all around the sting site, which made me freak out even more...they were doting on me, asking if I could breathe okay, etc., which I could.
The last time I was stung, I was 16.  So, I think I may have outgrown being allergic to bee stings now.

Pete offered to take me to a nearby medical center to have them look at it, but I opted instead to take some Benedryl. That's the next best thing to an Epipen you can get.  Then Pete suggested we go to a movie...he's been wanting to see Captain America.  (Not exactly my type of flick, but whatever, I thought to myself, if I'm going to keel over from this bee sting, I'd better be near somebody who cares).

So we saw the movie, and the whole time I felt like CRAP because my damned arm was stinging like a bitch, and it's NOT the GOOD kind of sting from a flogger on my ass, oh nooooo, it's PAINFUL, so I sat there with a napkin wrapped around the baking soda, wincing and cringing in pain every few seconds, silently cursing Pete for not giving a damn, promising myself I'd get revenge by taking HIM to a 2 and a half hour movie after HE got hurt somehow, to see how HE would like it...feeling miserable the whole time, wishing there was something more I could do.

After the movie ended, I sat there and waited another 20 minutes for Pete to watch the damned credits, and the "teaser" about The Avengers movie that will soon be coming out...so by the time he got out of there, I was ready to beat his ass.  So then we get into the van and he says, "Hey, want me to stop and get something for your bee sting?"  I very nearly clawed his eyeballs out of his head.  "YES!" I yelled, wanting to smack him upside the head for being so inconsiderate.

So we got some sting cream at the grocery store, and INSTANTLY it cooled off, and felt better, took the sting feeling away, and I was like, "SONOFABITCH, we could have gotten this FIRST, before going to the damned movie!"  Maybe I would have enjoyed it more if we had.  But hey, as long as PETE is happy watching his comic book childish stupid ass movie, that's ALL that mattered, right?? GRRRRR!

Sometimes he really is a selfish prick.  I guess all men are.

Anyway, my arm is feeling better today, but it wasn't easy to sleep last night without bumping it or feeling it sting.  The Benedryl knocked me out, though, so I'm feeling better now.  I was a nervous wreck though, wondering when the swelling and the shortness of breath would happen.  If I ever got snuffed by a bug, I'd go right up to God and slap him in the face, "What the HELL were you thinking?!" What a stupid way to die.  I'd be pissed.

Okay, so maybe I'm overdramatic about some things...sure, I admit it...but I've been TERRIFIED of bees ever since I was 16 and was told I was allergic.  So, this truly freaked me the hell out.  Now I am hell bent on calling ORKIN to get over here and KILL EVERY INSECT THEY FIND.

Today I'm going to paint our bathroom.  I helped my mom get her basement apartment situated all day yesterday, worked my butt off, but it turned out great.  Moved boxes all around, set up shelving, stacked them up in a supply room area, and moved my huge (and heavy) entertainment center, added some chairs and a couple end tables, and TAH DAH, she's got a nice living room.  She's very happy with it.

Slowly but surely, we're getting this place unpacked and settled. I hope we can get it all done before this big party for Florence.  It's making me nervous.  Not much time left.

Anyway...I just listened to Norah Jones, singing "We're gonna be sinking soon..." (I LOVE THAT SONG!)  It makes me think of the 40's, it has that old fashioned style to it, and I absolutely get chills every time I hear it.  I mean, it makes me picture Hoagie Carmichael sitting at the piano with Lauren Bacall singing....was that in the Maltese Falcon?  Yeah, I think it was...I love that movie.  And I really love her voice.  She's one of my favorites.

I was a bit sad to hear that Amy Winehouse died, she was only 27....but wow, like Janice Joplin, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix...they were all 27 too, when they died.  What the hell happens to people when they turn 27??  I had to leave Michigan at that age because I wanted to change the world...not implode and overdose on drugs.

I unpacked a box yesterday and found the book I wrote when I was in 6th grade.  I won the Young Authors Award for it, which was $5.00 and a free dinner at the junior high school.  I thought I was hot shit, you know, winning that prize...and ever since then, I wanted to be a writer.  So I kept writing in my diary, and on occasion, I wrote short stories.  But I've never let anybody read those.  I wrote naughty adult stories for my boyfriend in the Navy years ago too...he said he was going to send them to Penthouse.  I don't think he ever did, but who knows.

Well, anyway, so I'm a writer-wannabe, I'm a Jewish wannabe, and I'm a skinny-wannabe.  Other than that, I'm pretty much just my genuine self, as goofy as can be.  I haven't been working on that Journeyopoly game lately, but I will try to get to that this week.

Oh.....yeah, you can also add "a Steve Perry friend-wannabe" to that list.  *KISS*

Love, Rebecca