silver linings and karma upswings.

here is a list of everything equally as/more disgusting than bed bugs that has ever haunted me:










pedro martinez.

that's it. they are disgusting enough to rank with with my least favorite active baseball player who deservingly just lost the world series. somewhere in a tampa apartment, don zimmer is laughing. and that apartment doesn't have creatures braced with tiny legs and antennas who are out for nothing more than blood and to ruin lives. god was having an off day when he made these little sons-of-bitches.

but hey, at least they are impossible to get rid of outside of throwing away all of your possessions from your entire furniture set down to your favorite outfit. hope you have a shirt-off-your-back attitude, because these miniscule bloodsucking demonseeds will imbed their disgusting unseen eggs into it and breed more disgusting bugs and resentment toward your once comfortable home.

the problem started a month after my sister moved into our charming infested dwelling. our landlord, (a huge jerk) said it was not his responsibility to eradicate satan's offspring. this isn't legal, and we will probably have to drag out this arduous process in court. but we got an at home kit. about a week ago--on top of a lingering sinus infection and somewhat less lingering break up--my sister rudely awoke to welts in triads that lined her neck, shoulder, and arm. the evil force did not die with our protect-a-bug aid, it simply laid dormant.

one bite. one bite of your blood. that's all it takes for one of these twighlight wannabes to live for an entire year. first, i was jealous because if i only had to eat once a year i'd definitely lose the stubborn extra weight that hangs around and i'd also make BANK. second, we realized that this is one problem that no at home kit or fumigation is going solve this problem.

no amount of money or charming molding is worth staying in this place. this disgusting insect is like any of life's problems, or at least that's what i'm going to tell myself to cope with the repulsive reality. metaphors i can handle. bugs i cannot.

we can manifest whatever temporary solution we want for virtually anything we encounter. booze, strangers, food, a million new hobby's, a new haircut, a dartboard with your ex's face on it. there's always a remedy--just ask the Black Crowes. but all it takes is one bite to remind you that this is a false fix. memories slap you in the face like cold air on these crisp november days, and the endless possibilities of what could've been if he/she didn't die, if cancer wasn't there, if they didn't leave, if you hadn't fallen down on your luck--they will sink their teeth into you and never let go if you don't let go first. when hope turns up false, you will wear many swollen marks, and false hope--like bugs--will crawl deep into your mattress and never come out of the woodwork.

eventually, there is the need to find closure, or at least acceptance. including but not limited to therapy, prayer, time, yoga or kick boxing depending on what part of the process is rearing it's head, crying, talking, coffee, fumigation. in no particular order. but they all involve putting on your big girl pants and facing your problem. like my sister and i, you realize there is no way out of this mess. you have to slam the door, and never go back, because the hotbed is just growing hotter. and not hot enough to kill the bugs. maybe down the road post-fumigation you can revisit this place. when you no longer view it as home, and you realize the image of comfort is not what you imagine, you can come back only to take what is rightfully yours, and what can be salvaged.

once you make it through the ugly, it's time to move. move out. move on. move around to avoid being immersed in pain. move to a clean modern building on 88th & lexington that can in no way be described as historic and can boast the title of newly renovated. move along. it's a risk, and also an All American Rejects song. but their catchy beat and mediocre lyrics have a point. it takes courage to move on, there is a level of grace in it, even if the process itself isn't graceful. there is a beauty in walking away and leaving the bugs behind; in breaking free, breaking away, breaking your lease. right now moving is a risk, but it's also our only option. some people think that courage is being scared of something, and doing it anyway. i don't know if courage always demands an element of fear, but this is definitely a component of courage even if it doesn't embody it's meaning. if an infestation of emotion and/or mini draculas creep in, you will get bitten. so, you have to get busy living, and they can get busy dying. that way you, morgan freeman, & my shawshank redemption reference can live as emotional minimalists, and carry around only the cleanest, smallest amounts of baggage. it's the Ikea of feelings.

in the present, this sucks. a lot. i have to go on makeshift shopping sprees at cheap stores with money we don't have. we have to sell my car (that i'm not using...but it's my first car!) to fund the situation. i have to live as a nomad, couch hopping and trying not to burden others. we have to throw out all of our possessions and buy doubles of what we already own because something 1/8 of an inch destroyed everything we have, and we can't even donate what we are replacing. the meaningless and sentimental all have to be incinerated if there was even the slightest chance of exposure. i will be moving while simultaneously adjusting to my new job which will inevitably create chaos.

it seems like good things and tough things synchronize themselves. when the good stuff all comes at once, you feel blessed. when the tough stuff comes all at once, you feel overwhelmed. i find myself asking what i did to bring on these bad things. why is karma biting me sans welts? did i hurt someone beyond my own knowledge? are the Yankees really an evil empire that i'm cheering for? did i kill someone in past life?

then i am reminded, usually by my dad and people with more hindsight than i, that when something awful happens, something great usually comes out of it. usually i don't get the instant gratification that this bedbug situation has lead to. because now my commute to work will be about 12 minutes, all of my resources will be around the corner, i will be living with my sister and best friend, and the job i'm starting is an opportunity that fuses my interest for PR, music, and non-profits. our landlord is named Dorris, and i don't think you can be a jerk if you are named dorris. and we will have a fresh start with brand new, for a lack of a better word, 'stuff.' the load we carry will be lighter in every aspect.

in the end it's fine, if it's not fine, it's not the end. this Anonymous guy is onto something. he and Winston Churchill are credited with the same amount of quotes.

the welts will go away. the bugs won't--but the problem will. a fresh start brings a clarity that you can't pay to get.

bed, bath, & beyond didn't realize what they had with this beyond concept. the beyond in a move is limitless.

-k.

new dog, old tricks.

did you know that toothpaste can dry out acne? it's one of the oldest remedies in the book. so after sinking way too much money into dermatalogist after dermatologist--after taking on so many antibiotics i thought i would be immune to bacteria itself--after countless gels and creams and sample sized bags, trying to cure the physical reminder of my teenage years that muscled it's stubborn way into adulthood--the best i got is colgate.

and it worked. the oldest trick in the book worked, which makes me wonder what my grandparents have hiding up their sleeves.

sometimes the oldest tricks in the book do work, which is probably how they were published in 'the oldest tricks: volume one' anyway. average life problems are inevitable, to what degree you are hurt varies. nobody escapes unscathed, so we must derive remedies to these issues.

therapy. tears. booze. chocolate. the gym. the traditional remedies to the most common problems, and many of the rare ones too. healing is a tricky process because we can often do more damage in our alleged repair. there is a fine and blurry line between treating the problem head on and simply addressing the symptoms that appear. is the midst of pain, this line can appear indecipherable. but even when the line is crafted in the clearest of crystals, we don't want to yank out the problem by it's root. we would rather wipe down the dirty surface and clean up what is easy. sometimes, this is a permanent mindset. other times, it is the first step in a long climb up our myriad of issues to dealing with 'the real thing.'

as i transition into this so called 'next-phase-of-my-life,' i've been finding myself in a bit of an emotional hurricane, with winds of my future swirling and stepping stones of my past raining down on me. i am caught in the eye of the storm, with neither the preceding rain or wind metaphor applicable to my every day routine. the hope of course is that this is temporary, and that the winds of my future with settle to calm breezes of an employed present, and my past washing away into puddles of previous success. but until then, i am in flux, in transition, and my head is driving forward in chaos mode. the only way to treat the problem is patience, job interviews, and taking care of myself. which i just decided to really start doing today. until then, i can only treat the symptoms. last night i did so by drowning in copious amounts of chips, cucumbers, and brownies on top of making less educated but more correct guesses than good friends about WWE summer slam.

and that works until the interview that is supposed to pan out eventually does.

-k.