Kimbalance (and a small note about tiddies and killer bees)

Tiddy Rat .

WARNING: This post contains adult language because I am kimbalanced.

Photo explanation: I'm still nursing this baby. Actually, I think he would almost wean himself if I weren't too cheap to buy formula and forcing him to do this at least four times a day in order to get his dairy. Isn't that weird that I am his source of DAIRY?

He has eight teeth people. Think about that.

Now, I hate to be crude, but it is so fucking hot that I just about cannot stand it. My friend Ann, a devotee of Ayurvedic medicine, says that I have an imbalance of pitta and that I need to do curled-tongue breathing exercises and forward-bending yogic postures, in addition to eating cooling foods to straighten myself out again. You see, my primary dosha (body/personality type) is pitta (fire), so I am already a hot, anxious person. During the late summer, the heat makes me even more hot and anxious, creating a kimbalance. Add to that my addiction to coffee and you have a recipe for disaster. I hate fucking August.

This morning I woke up and went out for my morning walk. I decided not to take the trails today because frankly I am sick to death of getting caught in spider webs and trying to avoid poison ivy and chiggers. I have had just about enough of everything related to summer. So instead of hiking, I walked down the road out of the park. On the way down the Big Hill, I passed a seasonal ranger, who had set up camp in the driveway of another ranger and was videotaping the road. Come to find out, he was doing a traffic study. This is new. We have had deer studies, turtle studies, and ornithologist meetings, but a TRAFFIC study? Anyway, "Hi Mike. Isn't it hot?"

"Yep, it's a scorcher."

So then I'm just walking walking walking and thinking about how it's just too bad that the Shirley Zeitlin Realty company has bought a huge plot of land adjacent to the park and is now BULLDOZING all manner of habitats in order to sell houses at exorbitant rates when all of a sudden cicadas started falling out of the trees and dying dramatically all around me. This wouldn't have been a problem except that their dying is apparently some signal to yellowjackets that it is now FEASTING TIME. I was caught in some weird symbiotic life and death show and I was not pleased to be in the audience. I should've just taken the damn trail.

Just then, as always, a yellowjacket senses my presence and attacks. I begin running and squealing, arms flailing about wildly. My hat falls off because I am shaking my ponytail back and forth in order to protect my face from the attacker.

As an aside, I would just like to inform you about the habits of killer bees ... did you know that they can sense your orifices as you exhale carbon dioxide? They are drawn to the CO2 and will actually crawl inside your nose and mouth. Many killer bee victims die from strangulation, not the stings. If you encounter killer bees, you should run through high brush and try not to breathe at all (as if that's fucking possible when you're running through brush and being chased by killer bees).

You know that Madonna song that goes, "Erotic, Erotic ... put your hands all over my body"? Well, I've changed the words to "Neurotic, neurotic ... now I have to go to the potty."

ANYWAY ...

As I stooped to pick up my hat, I noticed two men on bikes, stopped behind me, watching the display. You know these kind of men. They have on numbered biking shirts and those really tight shorts that cannot be healthy for their reproductive organs considering they are also riding LONG DISTANCES on hard bike seats. Annoyed, I just turned around and snapped, "I AM NOT CRAZY ... IT'S JUST THESE DAMN BEES."

"Right," one of them says.

Jackass. He probably doesn't even know what to do if swarmed by killer bees, which is likely, considering they are moving increasingly north from South America through Mexico and will eventually end up here.

Finally, I made it to my turnaround spot and headed back up the Big Hill. Just as I get in view of Mike of the Traffic Study, a horsefly begins dive bombing my head. I begin the arm-flailing, ponytail-shaking routine. Then, I twist my ankle and fall off the side of the newly paved road into a freaking bed of poison ivy, ants, chiggers, and you name it, I was in it.

Now my fire is really burning. So I just sat there doing the curled-tongue breathing technique that Ann showed me. Approacheth Mike of the Traffic Study (remember? He's been VIDEOING THE ROAD):

"Uh ... are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine, it's just these damn horseflies."

"Well, you know only the females can sting you."

"That's fabulous information, Mike. Thank you. Please do not use the video footage of my ridiculously neurotic behavior at any staff meetings."

"Oh, OK. It's not for the park anyway, it's for the state commissioner."

Great.

WHERE IS AUTUMN?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?