So I had to change my Saturday Goals to Weekend Goals, but I was able to get everything done (minus the 1,000 words) and even had time to do the following:
* Go on a photo outing to Coronado with Britt, Ryan, and Boy Jordan. Took around 50 pictures. Not bad for me, really. Considering last week there were 170 freakin’ pictures to go through…
* Have pie date night with Andy and Ryan, complete with watching a movie in the dark. It was sooooooo romantic!
* Played Halo with Andy until 1:30 in the morning. He beat me, but only because we’re playing Halo 3. He’ll get his when I get my hands on Halo 2 again.
* Went to Kearny Mesa to try on my dress for Sonia’s wedding. It’s super cute, in case anyone was wondering. That roommate of mine has good taste.
* Sunbathed by the pool for the first time this year.
* Caught up with Jenna on the various things we did this weekend. She was very impressed with my overall productivity.
Now, for the mystery and confession.
The confession is that I am deathly afraid of bees. Most of you who have spent any time with me know this is a truth fact. I’ve never been stung, but I have been half stung on three different occasions. How do you get “half stung”, you ask? When the stinger doesn’t quite make it from the bee to embedded in your skin. For example:
1) When I was nine I sat down in the grassy area at school and jumped back up when I felt a prick on my leg. I’d sat on a bee, and he’d tried to get me but failed to execute all the way. Nice try, Bee #1.
2) When I was a junior in college, a bee somehow found it’s way into my car when I was coming home from class. (That, by the way, is my biggest worry concerning bees- that they’ll come into my car to get me, and they have done so twice now.) I didn’t know it was there until I felt the prick on my sleeve covered arm and Bee #2 started buzzing to make his presence known. Stinger was either stuck on my sleeve or the bee managed to keep it; I never did find out.
3) During a game of barefoot ultimate frisbee I stepped on Bee #3. Bee #3 was successful in embedding his stinger in my foot. However, I happened to step on him just right so that (and this might be gross to some of you, so be prepared) the stinger somehow only threaded my skin instead of puncturing it, so the poison never actually got under my skin.
As you can see, the bees are clearly out to get me.
And here’s where the mystery comes in.
A year after the incident with Bee #2, a second bee had the audacity to fly in my car window and land on my knee while I was driving. I was stuck at a red light and trying not to hyperventilate when two things happened: the light turned green and the bee dropped to my feet. I made my turn and pulled over on the side of the road, jumped out, and immediately started flipping through names on my phone to see which one of my friends might be close enough to save me from the bee in my car.
Luckily, I’d only made it a block away from school and my good buddy Tim was not only in the library at that moment, but willing to jog down to be my knight in shining armor. With only minimal mocking, I might add.
So Tim searched my car, even stuck his hands under the seats and did a sweep to try to scare the bee out, but he couldn’t find anything. And we couldn’t hear the buzzing anymore, so Tim concluded it must have flown out while he was on his way.
Uh-uh. I’d been watching for that precise thing. That bee was still in my car. Waiting. Biding its time until, a week later, it would fly from its hiding spot and sting my ankles. Both of them. Don’t ask me how it would sting me twice, it was the bee’s plan. And he was a very tricky bee.
The bee never made it’s attack, and I slowly got over my panic every time I got in the car. About a year later, my friend Neil detailed my car for me, and I told him to be on the lookout for that bee, dead or alive (but probably dead, cuz, you know, it had been a year). He never found anything. And I thought, this bee is very well hidden.
About a year after that, which just so happens to be today wouldn’t you know, I was cleaning out my car really good. I was throwing things away and wiping down the dashboard and vacuuming and using this amazing cleaner to get rid of some carpet stains… and I found that darn bee.
Dead, of course. But he’d totally been hiding under the driver’s seat the whole time, because, if you’ll remember, his plan was to spring out and get me in the ankles.
I knew it all along.