Perhaps you'll remember that time two years ago when my young life was nearly cut short by a horde of angry yellow jackets. At the time, the doctors said that I'd be in trouble (i.e., dead) if I got stung again. Since then, I've been cowering/running away like a little girl at the very thought of bees, much more the sight of them.

On Monday, Dad and I were golfing, and we thought I'd hit my ball into a bush near the green. While we were poking around in there, we must have disturbed a family of yellow jackets, because the next thing I knew, I was once again being assaulted by angry hornets. They're aggressive little suckers. In the end, I got stung four times in the shoulder (and Dad got a bunch too).

You'll note that I'm not dead. Also note that the worst effect occurred on my scorecard. Turns out, fear of imminent death is distracting. I blame the doctors. They made me paranoid: I duffed three chips in a row and then three putted. Thanks guys. Although my shoulder has been itchy and a little swollen ever since, IT HASN'T BEEN DEAD. Two years of fear for nothing.

Score: Doctors: -4, Me: 472, (Bees: 1,887)

(Also, Detroit Tigers: negative infinity. Here's a tip: DON'T TRADE A HALL OF FAME CATCHER FOR A RELIEF PITCHER. ESPECIALLY TO THE YANKEES. I'm going on record as being fundamentally opposed to this.)

If you haven't been following along at home, here's a quick quiz to help get you up to speed about what's going on in Detroit, or as I call it, Michigan's anus. (Can he say that? What a gross body part. How inappropriate. Someone call the police.)

Detroit's mayor, Kwame Kilpatrick, has gotten himself into trouble recently by allegedly*:

(a) Awarding lucrative city jobs and contracts to friends and family
(b) Becoming implicated in the murder of a stripper
(c) Feloniously perjuring himself to hide an affair with a subordinate and the illegal firing of whistle blowers
(d) Using $210,000 in city funds to lease cars and buy massages, dinners, and alcohol
(e) Assaulting a police officer
(f) Using portions of the "Kilpatrick Civic Fund" (intended for city improvement) to take a vacation to a 5-star resort in California
(g) Using his position to help dismiss court cases
(h) Being named in a slander lawsuit
(h) Funneling $175,000 of state grant money to his wife via a dummy corporation
(i) Throwing a wild party with strippers at the official mayoral residence (the Manoogian Mansion)
(j) Seizing a Harley from the Detroit police for personal use
(k) All of the above

In other news, a dog is running for mayor in Fairhope, Alabama. If he wins, I move that we try and orchestrate some sort of a mayor exchange program.

*Source: Wikipedia, daily news coverage, your mom

I just realized that I've been blogging for 3 years (and 6 days). Thanks for reading. Also, you're welcome. Also,

Ever wondered about the mental health of a cat? Today's topic: "Cats with Pica: Help, we can't stop eating non-nutritive and potentially deadly substances that look nothing like the things in our typical diet." Here's a supporting anecdote: Sarah was emptying the litter box the other day and found one of her elastic hair ties inside some cat poop.

Question 1: why was Sarah looking inside the cat poop?
Question 2: stop eating things that aren't in your typical diet and could get caught in your intestines and make you die!
Fact: I was able to salvage the hair tie (don't tell Sarah).

Tomorrow's topic: "Cats with omnibuphobia: Scaredy cats, fraidy cats, and the humans who shout unexpectedly and watch them scramble away in hilarious fear for their lives."

Sarah recently posted about autism being a silent illness that is difficult for some outsiders (those not in the 'know') to understand. Highlighting this perfectly, Michael Savage, America's third-most-popular talk radio host (8 million listeners) recently suggested that 99% of children with autism are actually just "brats." He believes that they just need to be told to "straighten up" and stop acting like "idiots," contending that autism is a money-making scam invented by drug companies and physicians.

Ignorance may be bliss, but sometimes it really makes you look like a baboon.

I got an email from a student today. It read,

Hello
I was

I'm not really sure what he was going for there, but it must have been over my head.

I haven't been posting much of life's minutiae lately. In case you've been wondering, here's my typical week this semester.

• Monday: get up; read for class; play guitar; go to class; enter data for 2 hours; watch TV/exercise; go to bed
• Tuesday: get up; prepare for teaching; teach; enter data for two hours; go to the gym; watch TV; go to bed
• Wednesday: get up; read for class; play guitar; go to class; enter data for two hours; watch TV/exercise; go to bed
• Thursday: get up; prepare for teaching; teach; enter data for two hours; go to the gym; watch TV; go to bed
• Friday: get up; read for class; play guitar; enter data for two hours; go the the gym; watch TV; go to bed

There seems to be a pattern in there.

Let me ask you this: I don't have much to update.

Turning off the lights when you go to bed: typical
Turning off the lights when you go to the bathroom: unorthodox

Petting a cat after a long day at work: soothing
Petting a cactus after a long day at work: prickly

Using an umbrella in the rain: preventative
Using an umbrella in the shower: ridiculous

Going to the park and luring birds with breadcrumbs: enjoyable
Going to the park and luring kids with breadcrumbs: arrestable

Practicing your punting by drop-kicking a football: advisable
Practicing your punting by drop-kicking a rabbit: dissatisfying

Picture it. Do it. Picture it.

Raising your hand before addressing your teacher: polite
Raising your hand before addressing your mail: awkward

Drinking cool water from a glass: refreshing
Drinking cool water from a toilet: disgusting

Putting your cat in a kitty carrier for a car trip: necessary
Putting your kid in a kitty carrier for a car trip: abusive

Asking a friend for directions: prudent
Asking a dog for directions: insane

Ever make yourself laugh out loud? Me too. Every single time I read that last one.

Yesterday, I alluded to the fact that our interpretation of an action is often entirely dependent on the setting of that action (and to some extent, the differences in our personalities). On one hand, it's strange that we have these double standards, but on the other hand, it's completely appropriate.

Waving frantically for a taxi: necessary
Waving frantically in someone's face: annoying

Bikini at the beach: popular
Bikini at the dentist: lewd

Taking pictures with your family at a restaurant: normal
Taking pictures of someone else's family at a restaurant: creepy

This is comedy people. I could go on like this all night.

You're in a supermarket. People are milling about. Someone you don't know sidles up to you and exclaims, "Hi. I'm So And So. Would you like to be my new friend and come to my house for an intimate dinner with my closest friends?"

Explanation: you may have just met a serial killer looking for victims.

(Alternative explanation: you may just met my extroverted father-in-law.)

You're in a place of worship. People are milling about. Someone you don't know sidles up to you and exclaims, "Hi. I'm So And So. Would you like to be my new friend and come to my house for an intimate dinner with my closest friends?"

Explanation: you may have just met a Christian looking for fellowship.

(Alternative explanation: you may just met (a) the serial killer, or (b) the father-in-law.)

Speaking as an introverted Christian, I'd like to know why this has become common practice among us. Let's slow the fellowship process down a tad. It'll take a while for me to get comfortable enough to start rifling through your fridge, using your toothbrush, and wearing your underwear. But give it time. I'll get there.

I've begun to hope that, as I age, either (a) the people around me will begin to recognize that I have important things to say, or (b) I will begin to recognize that I don't have important things to say. If reality doesn't approach one of those outcomes, I'm envisioning some combination of a mountaintop hideout, excess facial hair, a 1200-page manifesto, and a lot of shouting at no one in particular.

In other news, our important things keep breaking, and I'm finding it increasingly irritating. In case you'd been wondering, this is why I can never bring myself to spend any of the money you've been sending for my birthday and Christmas gifts. A gas leak in the engine compartment, eh? Well, let me just plug it with these checks I've been hoarding for just such an occasion ... and they're a perfect fit! Good thing I didn't buy that Martin acoustic guitar I'd been 'saving' for: it wouldn't have fit under the alternator.

See what I did there?

A few minutes ago, one of the cats barfed on the floor. While I was in the other room convincing Sarah that I shouldn't be the one to take care of it, a second cat was busy doing the job for us (read: eating the puke). While Sarah thinks it's inestimably gross, I'm really not seeing any sort of downside here. As I write, the third cat is even trying to use (invisible) sand to cover up the spot on the carpet. They're like teenagers who threw a kegger and are trying to piece the lamp back together before Mom and Dad get home. If we can just get them to start emptying the litter box... (and if they'd stop leaving their beer cans behind the couch, that would be great too).

I thought that I should write something.
I thought and thought a lot.
I thought that I should write something.
So I will.

See what I did there? In other news, I've officially started my summer session of classes. I'm taking only 1 class this time around, but I'm also teaching a lab section of Intro Psych. I've taught a number of these sections (6) in previous terms, so there's nothing all that new about it--except for one important semantic distinction. The difference this time around is that the university has officially labeled me an "adjunct lecturer" for the next few months (I mentioned this possibility a while back) . It really doesn't mean anything (I'm doing the same job as when I am a graduate assistant during the regular school year), but it can now be officially installed as the centerpiece of my resume.