Bees, and Why We Loathe Them.

Nasty little creatures, are they not? Though I do appreciate the magnificent tasks that these tiny creatures do, such as making honey and pollentating trees, I cannot remove the vendetta I seem to have against them.

Why is this, you ask? How could anyone dislike such an honest, hardworking, attractive insect?

Two words: unprovoked attack.

I was enjoying the first beautiful summer day here in the Burg; had accomplished a lot, went out to Monkey Rock to enjoy the sunshine. The day was perfect--almost comparable to Milton's idea of Eden in "Paradise Lost." Little did I know, my blissful summer world was about to be destroyed. An invader swooped in through the open car window, running straight into my arm--yet no damage. This blip on my unusually great day seemed inconsequencial, and I brushed off the corpse of the once active bee. Lo and behold, to my great suprise , a painful stinging began. Not in my arm, as I would have supposed it, but in my upper thigh! The hateful bee had ejected his stinger into my unprotected leg, injecting venom as a last, vindictive measure.

Being the brave, long-suffering sort of person I am, I hurriedly pulled the stinger out, and sent it out the window to join it's launcher. The wound was miniscule--hardly worth fussing over--so I iced it, and Katie and I had a good laugh.

The next day, however, it seemed the horrid little vermin had left his mark; my leg was itchy and swollen to the point of making movement uncomfortable. Forging onward, I continued my daily duties and once again iced the sting. The next day was torture. I couldn't sleep; ice wasn't helping; the swelling and itching had moved down and aroung me leg. Walking was no longer an option. So I took some pain killers, and my new buddy Benadryl, and cut class. It did help me sleep. But that's about it. Under the loving instructions of my dear mother I went to the healthcare center here on campus--fifteen minutes later, the eccentric (but very nice) doctor told me "looks like you're mildly allegic! If you'd have been really allergic, you'd probably be dead!"

Thanks, doc.

There is one upside to this newfound allergy--I now know the contents of our freezer better than anyone ever should, and have made educated decisions as to which frozen foods are best for icing a mountainous leg.

I prefer the frozen pumpkin in square tupperware.

The bottom line?

Bees are not my buddy right now.