Wednesday, December 12, 2012

It's all fun and games until I get a tick.

Yeah, so when I got all "Hey, I'm going to quit my corporate life and go be a farmer!" I really didn't consider The Tick Factor.

Or the "Planting Strawberries in the Rain" factor.

Or the "Taking Midterms and Finals and Writing Term Papers" factor.

Or the "Those Shiny Red Boots Aren't Going To Be Too Shiny or Red Anymore" factor.

Or the "Do One Hundred Somethings Every Day That Scare The Ever-loving Crap Out of You" factor.

I just realized I could go on and on and on and on with this list, so I'll just stop here and sum it up by saying that, while I totally love this whole thing of school and farmy work and small business starting up and such, there were a lot of things that weren't readily apparent until they were, like, right there.

And then when these manyMANY things have become, like, right there, I have been trying ever so hard to just roll with it and not let my former corporate-y self freak out like a big fat puss.

So, last night rather than get all "OHMYGOD THERE'S A MUTHER EFFING TICK BURROWING INTO MY BELLY" and then run screaming to the kitchen to (very carefully) prise it from my belly flesh and then ritualistically pop it in half while giving it a very stern talking to about just who does it think it is stealing my blood and making a giant mark on my belly flesh before treating it to a trip down the garbage disposal which was run for a solid 30 minutes BECAUSE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW A TICK I...well, that's exactly what I did.

Also, I still have a belly ring? What am I - 17?

Because sometimes when you're trying all hard not to be a puss and prove to the world (and yourself - most importantly yourself) that this was a good idea and you're not going to puss out in the real world of farming and outdoorsiness, you hit The Tick Threshold.

People - I hate mother fucking ticks.

I have no beef with snakes. Or spiders. Or bats. Or bees. Or most bugs (unless they are the jumpy kind because THEY COULD JUST JUMP RIGHT ON YOUR FACE GAH). Or animals with big teeth. Or creatures with small pointy teeth.

But I do not like ticks. At all. I have absolutely no use for them and good god do they freak me out. Same goes for leeches or any creature that makes its living sucking the blood from my belly, for instance.

If they sucked fat, I'd be all for them, but no - they just go for the blood and leave my ample flesh alone, save for a big black mark of the beast.

The beast that is the tick.

Ugh. I'm just the grossest right now.

BUT - I'm also studying for my last final. My final final, if you will. Having completed two finals already this week, plus three final projects, many millions of hours of lectures (I'm sure it was at least a million), days of farm work and, you know, starting up that new business of mine in my, like, spare time or whatever.

So - while I'd love to be realizing about myself that I'm impermeable to all things that nature holds and be completely unfazed by something as small and insignificant and TOTALLY FUCKING GROSS as a tick, I'm not.

And, well, I'm deciding that that's OK. I can be a farmer and not like ticks. I'm sure there are farmers out there who REALLY don't like ticks, too. I mean, just because you grow vegetables and such doesn't mean that you're suddenly One with all creatures big and small, right? Or at least to the point where you get all, "Hey! Climb on to my body, blood-sucking insects, and take all you need! I'm just a walking 7-Eleven for you." or whatever.

I'm sure it's not like that.

So, yeah - if you're looking for me on the farm, I'll be the one in the not-shiny mud-covered red rubber boots, a big ole smile, sitting aboard the tractor NOT covered in ticks.

That'll do fine.

17 comments:

  1. Ticks - ugh. On the dog, yeah, okay, but not on ME, so I'm with you there. Good luck on the final final - I'm sure you will ace it!

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    1. Even on the dog...EW. Blech. Thanks for the well wishes. Let's hope I don't bomb this thing :)

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  2. GROSS. Ticks are useless, as far as I can tell, and I hate them. We pull them off the dogs with great regularity and get great satisfaction in throwing those nasty things right in the fire.

    What I really can't stand though? Maggots. OH GOD I HATE MAGGOTS. They don't DO anything to me, they're just . . . MAGGOTS.

    Fucking gross, man. Tapeworms, too.

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    1. Maggots, the flies that hatch from maggots, tapeworms, ticks...ALL THINGS THAT ARE FUCKING GROSS. Just glad to only find a tick on me. If I found a maggot, well, we wouldn't be having this convo since I'd have gone into the light. BLECH.

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  3. Let's force the ticks on Rocket. They can try to out-useless each other.

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  4. Ooohf. I got one in Nicaragua once and it was terrifying. Hate those suckers! Hope the finals went well!

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    1. Central American Ticks! Even scarier! Final final is tomorrow and then BREATHING AGAIN.

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  5. Maggots, ticks, spiders and Amie's feet.....all send me off the reservation.

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    1. I will have to see these scary feet of hers. I'm intrigued.

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  6. YOU crack me up! I hate them too, and mosquitoes....the thought of them sucking on my skin makes me sick....good luck with your finals! Merry Christmas & THE best for the New YEAR....one of my favorite quotes" May the best of your past be the worst of your future" .....xo

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    1. That's a new one on me, but I love it! Make it so :)

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  7. I'm just saying you should watch that show "Monsters Inside Me". I've watched it a handful of times and I have to stop otherwise I'll never leave my house again. It's terrifying.

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  8. Just to make this experience all the more horrifying:
    We have no idea where I was when I picked up the tick that gave me Lyme disease, and if I ever got a "target" mark I don't remember it. I mostly have been to areas where Lyme is very rare, but have visited one or two where it's more common. I didn't believe it until the blood test came back positive.

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    1. Really? You never got a target at all? That's what I've been relying on to tell me one way or the other. Did you have other symptoms? The thing is nearly healed now, except that it sits right near my waist line so my jeans keep slamming into it, which is a delight.

      And you're right - too horrifying.

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    2. I...um...I'm sort of a go-get-em hardy ignore-the-pain ignore-the-injury kind of person. Or at least I was, until I got really, really sick. And the docs futzed around with the fairly wacky (until you know it's Lyme) symptoms for years, until somebody finally thought to test me for Lyme.

      So if I ever got a target I just don't *remember* it. I might have and not noticed or paid any attention; I might not have gotten one at all. I didn't really know to look for one, anyway.

      Funny enough, I *did* get a "target" from something-or-other while in the middle of treatment, so does that count?

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  9. And here is Decca's tick story. When I visited Africa with my friend Mary, we returned via Paris where her boyfriend lived. The day after our return, she found a tick (an African tick!) on her tummy. As she's heading out with said boyfriend to catch a train to his family's summer house she casually says "hey, you should check yourself for ticks because I found one." So, um. OK. I was staying in this little tiny "au pair" room which was separate from the family house. There's a teeny tiny bathroom mirror over the teeny tiny sink in the teeny tiny bathroom. Absolutely no way to see anything other than my face and neck. I check the front of my body and didn't see anything. Then I think "well, what if there's one on my back? I'll never be able to see it." So, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet, I walk up to the main house and ring the bell. My friend's boyfriend (who luckily was fluent in English) opens the door and I have to ask this guy I've known for 5 minutes if he would mind checking out my naked back for ticks. Gee, only slightly awkward, thank you.

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Sucks, right?

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Cheers.