Bees; Going Places
Ah. The Blog: Looming over my head, singing to me too loudly. It's torture. I love my blog, but it is also a source of nervousness and fear for me. The idea that people are potentially reading everything that I write...makes it a great struggle for me to sit down and write. I'm no longer thinking about what I want to write, but more about what would amuse other people and make them want to read more. This makes me sad.
What would I be writing right now if no one was reading? Maybe I'd be talking about bees: they've come out in full force on the campus, the Bumble Bees, and are very exciting. In fact, they're mating. I was talking to my friend outside of my morning class, and they were buzzing all around us, fighting and tumbling in the air, right in front of our faces (a mating pair actually banged right into my face once! I guess they were carried away by their intoxicated passion). I was so scared. My friend, the Backpacker, was like "Bumble bees won't sting you. Honey bees will, but Bumble bees will only sting you if you provoke them." I believed her enough to relax and let myself watch the bees and talk, but I didn't really believe her, and I never let down my gaurd. They had stingers, perhaps? These long pointy things, coming out from between their "legs". "Is that his penis?" the Backpacker asked. I didn't know. I guess, according to her, that Bumble Bees have especially large genitalia. "How do you know that they won't sting?" I asked her, thinking perhaps that they actually enjoy stinging quite a bit, and this whole mating ritual was really just a preperation for a mass stinging orgy on my arms, legs, and face (and, heaven forbid, my stomach!)
"I used to want to be a beekeeper; that's how I know." Yes, of course. "They call them Africanized. It's horrible! When they get all agressive like this, they call them Africanized." Yes, I suppose that explains the large genitalia as well...
The Backpacker is going away for the weekend, to go backpacking. I wish I were going with her; I'm so sick of Columbus. I have one "friend" that I know would be up for going on a little road trip, but I'd have to perform certain, rather disgusting, sexual favors for him in the process. Also, he'd take me to places where people have lots of sex ('cause what else is there to do, when you go to a totally new place, where everything is fresh, unexplored, and exciting?), and I would totally end up breaking my sobriety (which, by the way, is coming along quite nicely). He would tell me, I know, that I don't have to have sex with him. But I know from experience that he, in his subtle, all-too-persistant way, would find a way to get me to do it, without actually telling me I have to do it, and making it seem, objectively, that I'm doing it because I want to.
Sigh...maybe I'll just go on a long bike ride instead....
What would I be writing right now if no one was reading? Maybe I'd be talking about bees: they've come out in full force on the campus, the Bumble Bees, and are very exciting. In fact, they're mating. I was talking to my friend outside of my morning class, and they were buzzing all around us, fighting and tumbling in the air, right in front of our faces (a mating pair actually banged right into my face once! I guess they were carried away by their intoxicated passion). I was so scared. My friend, the Backpacker, was like "Bumble bees won't sting you. Honey bees will, but Bumble bees will only sting you if you provoke them." I believed her enough to relax and let myself watch the bees and talk, but I didn't really believe her, and I never let down my gaurd. They had stingers, perhaps? These long pointy things, coming out from between their "legs". "Is that his penis?" the Backpacker asked. I didn't know. I guess, according to her, that Bumble Bees have especially large genitalia. "How do you know that they won't sting?" I asked her, thinking perhaps that they actually enjoy stinging quite a bit, and this whole mating ritual was really just a preperation for a mass stinging orgy on my arms, legs, and face (and, heaven forbid, my stomach!)
"I used to want to be a beekeeper; that's how I know." Yes, of course. "They call them Africanized. It's horrible! When they get all agressive like this, they call them Africanized." Yes, I suppose that explains the large genitalia as well...
The Backpacker is going away for the weekend, to go backpacking. I wish I were going with her; I'm so sick of Columbus. I have one "friend" that I know would be up for going on a little road trip, but I'd have to perform certain, rather disgusting, sexual favors for him in the process. Also, he'd take me to places where people have lots of sex ('cause what else is there to do, when you go to a totally new place, where everything is fresh, unexplored, and exciting?), and I would totally end up breaking my sobriety (which, by the way, is coming along quite nicely). He would tell me, I know, that I don't have to have sex with him. But I know from experience that he, in his subtle, all-too-persistant way, would find a way to get me to do it, without actually telling me I have to do it, and making it seem, objectively, that I'm doing it because I want to.
Sigh...maybe I'll just go on a long bike ride instead....
posted by nearfalse | 9:09 AM
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