Insect Infestation

My world has become moderately unpleasant.  There are far more bugs in it than I find desirable.  Story time!

Last Monday (Memorial Day) I was still not a full-time employee at my company so I went into the office to get my hours.  I had such goals.  I was going to put in my 8 hours.  And then the bugs happened. 

I was sitting at my desk harmlessly filling out paperwork when a small dragon landed on the wall.  I later learned it was a blue mud dauber wasp; see a picture of the beast here!  It was enormous.  I just wanted it gone.  I tried tapping on the other side of the wall; I tried making loud noises, etc.  I just wanted to scare it away; I thought I would be fine if it would just not be directly in front of me.  It would not be deterred. 

So I started looking around the office for some raid or something.  Back story time, I am almost incapable of killing big bugs, I hate getting close to them and it just makes me feel so bad.  Anyway, all I could find was a can of static guard.  You can roll your eyes, in hindsight this story is even more absurd than it seemed at the time (and it seemed pretty darn ridiculous). 

I pick up the can of static guard and think to myself, “Self, you could spray the big bug with this stuff, incapacitate it, and capture it under a glass! Yeah! This is such a good idea!”  Not a good idea.

I spray the bug.  The bug disappears.  It has flown away.  Now I’m just a wreck because I know there is a giant (and likely seriously pissed off) bug on the loose.  I sit back down and proceed to jump every few seconds thinking it has come back for me.  A few minutes later it reappears on my stack of papers.  I jump up and scurry out of my cube.  It climbs off the papers so I pull them away.  I then grab a vase, trap it inside, and put my heavy tape dispenser on top of said vase for good measure.  

I go back to work.  Every few seconds the bug flies into the side of the glass and terrifies me.  About 15 minutes go by and I’m growing accustomed to the clinking noise.  Then I hear something else.  I look over to the wall and see that the noise had been a GIANT millipede falling from the wall.  It scurried away before I could get it.  

And at about that point I was done.  I packed up my things and left.  I’d only been in for an hour.  I stand by my decision though, totally unfit work environment! The bugs are just too ballsy when nobody else is here.

Oh yeah, and the bug I trapped, I had every intention of asking someone to save the next day but when I got in he had died : [ … it was quite depressing.   

Things Disney Taught Me About Being Eco-Friendly

I work for an environmental company and as those of you who know me personally may know, I write for the company blog as well as for my personal one.  The other day I was at work thinking about things I could blog while simultaneously pinning environmental things on pinterest.  This got me thinking about what kinds of things people most often repin from my personal account (aka what I should write about for work if I want our blog to take off).  And then it hit me, Disney.  Once the idea got in my head it simply would not get out which leads me to the following list of:

Things Disney taught me about being Eco-Friendly:

1. Keep your fruits pesticide (and poison) free.
2. Make sure your shoes are recyclable, just in case you lose one.
3. Be kind to animals, they may be royalty in disguise.
4. Woodland creatures are generally trustworthy, be nice to them, they may even do your dishes for you (with biodegradable soap of course).
5. Make sure your mode of transportation is low emission; choose a flying carpet or an elephant over a sports car.  Alternatively, make your vehicle out of an over-sized vegetable.  
6. Use the smallest amount you need to get the job done; one cannon can be enough to stop a whole army of Huns.
7. DO NOT pollute the oceans, apparently some sea creatures have access to magic and they can be pretty vindictive. 
8. Every rock and tree and creature has a life, has a spirit, has a name.

I decided that maybe I should not put this as a post on the company blog (although I’m still really tempted) and instead I put it here with this lovely, and blatant, plug for my company’s blog, it’s right here!  It’s about environmental things and is somewhat spectacular.  Check it out, you know you want to.

Also, 5 points if you can identify all the movies I referenced! 

My Last Creative Writing Assignment

Parallel

By: Kyley Shinead Eagleson

I never thought of myself as a bad person.  I always tried to do what was right.  I tried to help people.  I thought I followed the rules.  My name is Lila DeMarcus; I used to be honest.  My name is Lila DeMarcus and I am a liar.  You can trust me on this; I’m a doctor. 

I’m a psychiatrist.  On Monday’s and Thursday’s, I see Sylvia at 8:15.  Sylvia is a young mother, just 19; her husband is in the military.  She brings the baby with her to every appointment.  Generally, we will talk about how her week is going.  She tells me that she misses her husband who is deployed, that the baby won’t eat and that she is worried he is ill.

“You’re a doctor,” she implores, “Could you just take a look at him and tell me if something is wrong?”

“Sylvia,” I say, “we’ve talked about this before, I’m not that kind of doctor.”

Although I’d rather keep the focus off of the baby, the pleading look in her eyes finally gets me to look over him.  After all, I don’t need an M.D. after my name to figure out why her cabbage patch doll isn’t eating.

- - -

Jonas comes in on Tuesday afternoon, every Tuesday, without fail.  A few years back, when Christmas fell on a Tuesday, we were both here. 

Jonas likes order and consistency.  He’s an obsessive-compulsive patient whose life and mental state would probably improve greatly if he would just accept his homosexuality.  Jonas is an attractive man; we often discuss his dates from the previous weekend and why things always go bad when he tries to take a woman home with him.

“I met her at the bar, she was a 10, blond hair, blue eyes, the whole thing.” He tells me with false bravado.  “She was all over me so I took her back to my place.”

“And then what happened?” I ask.

            “I think I’m broken,” He tells me dejectedly, “there’s just something wrong with it.  Why won’t my body do what my mind tells it to?”

- - -

I know I should not have a favorite patient, but I do.  Her name is Joyce and she is an older woman.  Widowed, her children are all grown and off, living lives of their own.  Joyce is lonely.  She comes in on different days but always at least once a week.  I think people need human interaction to stay sane.  That’s why I see Joyce; she just needs another person to talk to, to prove to herself that she is not totally alone.

            “So how has your week been Joyce?” I ask.  She ponders my question for a moment and I just let her take the time she needs.  That’s partly why I like these sessions so much; they allow me some time for personal reflection as well.

            They give me the time to think about whether or not I’m totally alone, to think about how my week has been.  It gives me the time to think about the call I got from Sylvia during dinner last night.  She was hysterical because her baby wasn’t breathing and she didn’t know what to do.  I could hear the panic in her voice; almost see her pacing back and forth across her living room, wringing her hands, desperate for answers.

            “I think,” said Joyce stirring me from my reverie, “that my time here is drawing to a close.”

            “What do you mean?” I ask, “We still have 50 minutes left of the session.”

            “No dear, not the session, just here, in general.”

I like that she calls me dear, it makes me feel safe somehow, like nothing can get to me, like nothing can break through the cracks.   Joyce closes her eyes and I suddenly understand her meaning.

            “Joyce,” I say, “Joyce wake up!”  But she does not stir.  I try and try to rouse her but she’s gone.  That’s when I start falling, and I keep on falling and falling and falling.

- - -

When I woke up I had no idea where I was.  I kept asking about Joyce but no one listened.  They tell me that my cleaning lady found me, semi-catatonic, in my townhouse, alone.  They keep stressing that, that I was alone.  Now I’m at the Clear Springs Mental Institution, I’ve been here for a week.

  The doctors here say I talk to myself.  They hear me throughout the day and just assume that’s what I’m doing.  They don’t know my patients though.  I try to tell them about conflicted Jonas and disturbed Sylvia but they won’t listen.  They don’t see them like I do.  Just like they could not see Joyce.  They don’t believe me.

            “Please,” I say, “Please listen, these people, they need help.”

            “Don’t mind her,” I overhear one doctor reassuring another as they walk past, “That’s just Lila DeMarcus; she’s a liar.”  

Fast Times in Kyley’s Life

Well, my life went a little bat-shit crazy there for a minute.  Here’s the scoop:

1. I moved out of good old Rupert’s Corral (AKA my house at Butler for the last year) and got an apartment of my very own!  I plan to take photos and stuff later in the summer when I have it all put together, so watch for that.

2. I finished my last semester and graduated from college.  I still can’t believe this one is true but they tell me it is.  I have a shiny new diploma and everything.  I set it up in my room to remind myself that I’m old.  Or something like that.

3. I’m working.  Like a big kid.  40 hours a week.  It’s hardcore.  I applied for my first real grown-up job on Monday and hopefully will know if I get it by the end of the month.  

4. I went to my first company sales meeting. It was so many things.  Some kind of dull but informative (day long meetings), some hilarious (like meeting a woman who is basically me in 20 years and getting to put a face with the woman who emailed me saying she loved me), some awesome (like a V.P. telling everyone I was the best thing since sliced bread), and some just downright absurd (e.g. drunk co-workers).  All-in-all, it was great, I got to meet people from the company that I knew through email but had never actually seen in real life.  Good times.  

Other than all that I’ve just been acclimating.  I have real bills now.  I can DVR shows I like and watch them later.  I have friends leaving the country soon.  I have friends still in school and some starting grad school in the fall.  My sister is moving next month and it will be the first time in 4 years that I won’t be able to hop over and see her whenever I want.  And last but not least, next month I am getting a real dining room table to replace the super cool card table I’m using now.  I guess it’s time to go out and buy those big girl panties.  

A Day in the Life: My Inability to Speak

Recently I have been having some serious issues with choosing the correct words while talking.  The only other time I have had this was last year when I had somewhat addled my brain by contracting the flu.  It’s like I know what I want to say but then these other words come out of my mouth.  For example:

I was out with my roommate the other night.  A friend texted me something really long and, aloud, I said “Man, he sent me back a small novel.”  Except that’s not what I said, that’s not what I said at all.  Instead I said, “Man, he sent me back a small llama.”  Llama? Where does that even come from?  I guess the words maybe sound a little alike? Novel…llama… kinda?  But I digress.

Take two, the other night I was sitting in my living room and one of my roommates asked me to text one of our friends about getting dinner on Friday.  I said, “Okay I will, I just can’t find my phone.”  Except I did not say phone.  I said pants.  Which was absurd because I was wearing my pants.  I was in the living room for goodness sake.  I was totally wearing my pants!  But apparently I could not find them?

Anyway, that’s about all I’ve got.  Maybe later today I’ll say something else absurd and have to edit this.  Only time will tell.  

13 Books Every Girl Should Read Before She's 25

As a lover of books and an avid reader, I decided I was qualified to make a list of the books I think every girl should read by the time she’s 25.  I consulted with my sister on the list since she is actually 25 so I feel like it is legit.  These are books I think stood out from when I was younger and from more recently.  While there are hundreds of books that I think of as good and even great these are the ones that stuck out to me this time.  Chances are this will not be the only list of books I recommend on here!

1. The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling (Okay this is actually 7 books but still.)

2. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

3. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

4. Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho

5. Matilda by Roald Dahl

6. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

7. Avalon High by Meg Cabot

8. Bridget Jones’ Diary by Helen Fielding

9. The Host by Stephenie Meyer

10. What My Mother Doesn't Know by Sonya Sones

11. Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli

12. The Help by Kathryn Stockett

13. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (Which I am reading right now!)

Quotes: A Personal Obsession

I love quotes. I like reading what other people have said or written. It’s like a free pass into how they view the world. Below are a few of my favorites:


"She decided to free herself, dance into the wind, create a new language. And birds fluttered around her, writing 'yes' in the sky." - Monique Duval

"When you're a kid, they tell you it's all... grow up. Get a job. Get married. Get a house. Have a kid, and that's it. But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that. It's so much darker. And so much madder. And so much better." – Dr. Who

“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” – Paulo Coelho

“Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free.” – Paulo Coelho

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited; imagination encircles the world.” – Einstein

“The question that sometimes drives me hazy: Am I or the others crazy?” - Albert Einstein

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that." – Albus Dumbledore (JK Rowling)

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." - Albus Dumbledore (JK Rowling)

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. (The Beatles, from the song, "The End")

“Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.”

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” – Helen Keller

“Walk with the dreamers, the believers, the courageous, the cheerful, the planners, the doers, the successful people with their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground. Let their spirit ignite a fire within you to leave this world better than when you found it...” - Wilfred Peterson

“Show me a day when the world wasn’t new.” - Sister Barbara Hance

“If I’m honest I have to tell you I still read fairy-tales and I like them best of all.” - Audrey Hepburn

“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.” - Ansel Adams

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” - Charles Dickens

“If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there.” - Lewis Carroll

“We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” - Marilyn Monroe

"Dreams cannot be tamed. Dreamers cannot be ruled." – Paulo Coelho

“I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.” – Walt Whitman

“I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” - Vincent Van Gogh

“When I was a little girl I used to read fairy tales. In fairy tales you meet Prince Charming and he's everything you ever wanted. In fairy tales the bad guy is very easy to spot. The bad guy is always wearing a black cape so you always know who he is. Then you grow up and you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he's not easy to spot; he's really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair.” - Taylor Swift

"No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." - Samuel Beckett

Is There An App For That?

Sometimes I strongly consider deleting my Facebook.  And not just because then I could say I did.  Oh no, there are a bundle of reasons.  Hence, my need to create this list of things that I wish Facebook had an app to allow me to block.

Annoyance Number 1:  People who feel the need to compare all celebrity deaths to military deaths; the most recent case, Whitney Houston.  For weeks after her death my news feed was inundated with photos of her next to a fallen soldier with messages about the difference in media coverage of their deaths.  Here is the thing though; the two deaths are not really comparable as far as the media is concerned.  Whitney Houston was famous.  Most soldiers are not. Whitney Houston died as a result of an unhealthy lifestyle.  Soldiers die fighting for their countries.  It is clear to me that the more honorable death is that of the soldiers, but the one that is going to “sell papers,” is that of Whitney Houston.  It's just a fact of life.  

Annoyance Number 2: Recently, it seems like my Facebook news feed has been blown up with political and religious agendas.  I understand that it is an election year but seriously, I’m just over this.  You’re pro-life?  Okay cool, boon for you, we all get to have our opinions but I don’t want to see your creepy fetus photos every time I log into Facebook.  They do nothing to change my opinion on the subject.  All they do is make me angry / annoyed that you have chosen to use a social media site to try to force feed your opinions on me.  Save it for real life conversation.  The same goes for those of you who don’t like Obama, are angry about gun laws, think America is screwed if a republican gets elected, etc.  I’m not saying it’s not okay to post an occasional political comic or something, I just am sick and tired of having the bulk of my Facebook be political.

Annoyance Number 3: Games.  I’m not going to play your game.  It does not matter if you send me one request or 1000.  All your subsequent requests are doing is moving you higher up on the list of people I want to punch in the knee.

Annoyance Number 4: All of these photos telling me I have to “like” them or I don’t A) Believe in God, B) Have a heart, C) Care about issue "X", D) Believe in fairies, whatever.  I’m pretty certain God does not monitor my Facebook that closely.  

Annoyance Number 5: People giving me way too much information about their lives.  Case in point, girls giving a play-by-play of the birth of their child.  I do not want or need to know how dilated you are.  I understand it’s a big event and I’m happy for you but I really don’t need the details.  When the baby is out and clean I will happily read its length, weight, etc.  Until that point though please keep it off my news feed.   

Sleep Deprived

So, it’s been a while.  Sorry about that.  Although saying I’m sorry almost seems presumptuous.  Like I assume people are checking my blog daily and lamenting the lack of new posts.  I am so not that cocky…

Anyway comma I thought I’d write about my past couple of nights.  I believe some sorts of shenanigans are afoot.  Both nights I have glanced at the clock and seen that it is far later than I anticipated.  When it happened this weekend, it was not such a big deal.  But when I looked up from reading my book last night to see it was almost two in the morning I got a little concerned.

My alarm was set to go off at 5:47a.m. (Because I wanted to get to work early because I’m poor and need the hours).  And suddenly, I realize I need to be awake again in less than 4 hours.  

Now if you know me, you likely know that I used to pull this kind of crap all the time.  I never slept at night.  But now that I am a more functional adult member of society it is no longer prudent of me to sleep until 10 or 11 in the morning.  I get up early (usually).  I go to work.  I try really really hard to go to my early classes (although I miss them more than is desirable) but still!  I can’t run on so little sleep.

And then, as if my lack of sleep was not enough to contend with, it dawns on me that my contact solution needs at least six hours to stop being peroxide-y.  And so, for the second time in my life I intentionally went to sleep with my contacts in.

Now today I am a little riddled with guilt.  I feel like my eye doctor knows.  He totally knows. 

Final note, my sincere apologies if this is not funny, I am quite sleep deprived today. 

Short Story 2: Pure Fiction

Pure Fiction

By: Kyley Shinead Eagleson 

Father,

By the time you read this, I should be long gone and living under a new name.  I know I’m supposed to do this in person but I’m also supposed to ask for forgiveness, and I have no intention of doing that.  So I say we forget the technicalities.

Firstly, I must tell you Father I have most definitely sinned.  I need to tell you a story and I guess the best place to start is the beginning…

Over the next few days stories will probably start popping up in the newspapers about a man who’s gone missing, a man named Richard Slone.  He’s 79; lives lived in that big white house on the outskirts of the city.  If I had to guess, the police will hope that he just wandered off somewhere and that they’ll find him soon, confused, just sitting at a Denny’s in a few days.  That’s not going to happen though; he won’t be at a Denny’s or at an IHOP, or even at Mama’s Waffle House in town; so don’t try to look there.

His family will come in from California after a few days.  Well, he’s just got the one son.  He never visits.  But he’ll come in for this.  I’m sure he will.  You should give him this letter; it might help him to have it too. 

I was Mr. Slone’s caretaker.  I lived with him out in that big white house, making sure he took his meds when he should, making sure he didn’t wander off to Denny’s.  It would have been two years next week that I’d been with him.  He was a character, I’ve got to give him that, he was a real character.  But I’m off topic; I need to get back to my story.

I woke up yesterday morning and went down the hall to help Mr. Slone get up and ready for his day, same as I’d been doing every morning for almost two years.  Slone was a former military man; he liked consistency and a schedule he could count on.  I’d never been that kind of person but I could appreciate his need for order so I went with it.  

Downstairs I set to work making his breakfast while he sat down at the table.  As the eggs sizzled in the old frying pan Mr. Slone pulled his kit towards him and started getting it ready to check his sugar; same old routine.  He was running a little high already so I went to the fridge and got out a new bottle of insulin.  Rolling the vial gently back and forth between my hands to warm it up, I walked towards him. 

If you’d told me five years ago that someday I’d be shooting up into an old mans arm, I’d have laughed you into the next county.  I’ve tried everything, acid, crack, heroin; I never even thought about it.  It was a compulsion.  I never planned to live a long life. 

I learned in rehab that most junkies are looking to escape from something.  But me, I just had to know what it was like.

But back to the story, I’m still not sure where the idea even came from, maybe I watch too many crime shows.  All I know is one minute I was drawing up his usual insulin dose and then I just kept going.  Slone was a little needle shy so he never watched me inject him.  Never saw it coming.

It happened pretty quickly, in a relative sense, a couple hours.  He was fine for a while and then he wasn’t.  He got sweaty and confused and he couldn’t speak, it was like he couldn’t find the words.  But then he just nodded off.  It looked like he was sleeping but I knew he wasn’t.

You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you this Father, honestly, I’m wondering myself, all I can tell you is that it seemed like someone else needed to know, I guess you’re just lucky.    

Now this is what I need to ask you to do.  The police aren’t going to be able to find the body, but I’m going to tell you where it is.  When this all gets going, call in and tell them to go to the Kirkwood Cemetery.  There is a woman buried there named Regina Zimmerman.  She died a day before Mr. Slone, but she was buried a day after him.  They had no shared connections in life, but now, well now they share something kind of important.      

Like I said in the beginning, I’m not asking for forgiveness, all I’m asking for is your help in getting some closure for the others involved. 

Thank you,

            Finn W.