#30: Buggy Baby
SLICE OF LIFE
Hey gorgeous! Did you do something different with your hair? You sound soooo smart today. HAHAHA wow, and you’re funny!
^ How I plan to open my client interview in 5 hours. Wish me luck!
But seriously, hey!
Guess what. Yesterday, I took a brisk walk around my neighborhood, which is major news! No need to hold your applause. Let them flow! I wanna hear your hands clappin! It’s major news because I have been afraid to leave my apartment re: stalker situation, and the longer I hermit inside the stronger the fear becomes thus creating a never-see-the-sun-miserable-life scenario. So I’m practicing going outside alone like the big strong tough brave young woman that I am.
Yesterday’s walk was glorious. I managed to zip my pepper spray in my fanny pack instead of white-knuckling it for 20 blocks, and I didn’t jump every time I turned a corner and a man dared to be on the same sidewalk as me. Progress!
I was just walking along, letting my body keep the score of this resilience when I thought hey! I deserve a little treat. Because I did deserve a little treat. So I walked my independent, unafraid booty to Starbucks and ordered at the counter.
I hadn’t interacted with many people on the walk up until this point. I’m working on not being overly polite to strangers (people pleaser brag) so that they don’t think I’m an easy target to stalk/kill/etc, so I wasn’t doing as many soft smiles or good mornings.
Okay, I did say good morning to an old lady and her dog, but they were so cute it would have been worth my downfall. Otherwise, I was trying to mind my own beeswax and forget I was midwestern entirely. (Can we talk in another edition about how this makes me SAD and how I don’t want to change because I love PEOPLE and it’s not fair that some of them (mostly men) are DANGEROUS when I just want to be PLEASANT?!?!?!) Anyway, I hadn’t interacted with anyone for more than a moment before entering the bustling coffee shop.
I noticed pretty quickly that people were looking at me. My paranoia started to rear her ugly head, but I quieted that gal pretty quickly. A few pairs of eyes weren’t going to spoil my solo return to the outside world. They were probably just basking in the glow of all my confidence and charm that I’m no longer shooting out of a t-shirt cannon of pleasantries, and they were bummed about it because they wanted a taste! Sorry randos, my energy is a privilege! No pleasantries today!
So I got my coffee and felt pretty good about not spiraling about the staring even though it was weird. On my walk back, I flicked a thrip, a small comma-looking bug, off my finger and continued on my merry way.
I started writing a poem about the little critter in my head as I walked. Oh, the joys of the outside world! The inspiration! The creation! The little treats!
When I got home, I scurried to the bathroom and did my business. As I lathered my hands, I looked up and almost leapt through the wall. My face. Was covered. In thrips. There were SIX BUGS on my face. SIX. And three on my neck.
PEOPLE WERE STARING AT ME BECAUSE I WAS COVERED IN BUGS……hahahaha.
So anyway, I picked them off and finished the poem. Living in LA is so glamorous!
A poem about bugs on my face:
Thrips
thrips punctuate my skin
as I walk through
the stucco, spanish, modern, millionaire
little beauty bugs
fickle freckles that wriggle and bite
like moles drawn in haste
by some bug-loving god
commas connecting the skin
of my nose, cheek, arm, neck, knees
my skin, my skin, my skin,
home briefly to these pests
I didn’t let in
On another bug-related note, apparently this is what ants look like up close.
Horrifying! Someone (not me — I couldn’t take the nightmares) needs to write A Bug’s Life sequel in the horror genre starring this beast.
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Thanks for reading! Hope you have a bugless Friday.
🐛🐛🐛
Ariana
Awesome poem haha!