on insects and insanity

I HATE camping.

Okay, so maybe it's more of a hate/tolerate relationship, or maybe I was just with the wrong person (a parent). But really, why the fuck anyone would want to sleep on a rock and eat fried spam and ramen is beyond me. The only benefit is that when you come back, you're thankful that you're bored in a house rather than outside with copious insect life.

So maybe it wasn't that bad. But there are definitely some things I take issue with. Like bugs.

Insects are the one aspect of nature I have real trouble with. And let me tell you, the bugs up North were fucking weird. I seriously didn't have a problem with spiders before this trip, but boy, I practically had to ask for a straightjacket. They are everywhere, and they live in creepy communal webs where they make little sacks to keep things alive in them and when you hit a branch with them dozens of them fall into your canoe (and if you sit in the front like me, that's bad news). I don't think I saw the same kind twice. Big ones, furry ones, striped ones, spotted ones, even a teensy tinsy one that was highlighter yellow (?!) Someone who's into that kind of stuff could probably spend a lifetime studying all the bugs up there. I am not and would probably go insane.

And the mosquitoes, god the mosquitoes. I have always had issues with needles, so bugs with needles on their faces are automatically on the hit list.

The only bugs I can handle are the ones that eat other bugs. This means hornets are my best friends. If you stay still and don't swat at them (I mistook one for a horsefly and tried to kill it, ending in my sprinting in circles around the campsite for several minutes until it lost me) hornets memorize your body and will literally pick the flies off your arm like big sluggish war airplanes or something.


The real war engines of the insect world, and the coolest bugs out there? Dragonflies. These things look so much like aliens it's hard to believe they're not miniatures. When they land on your shirt they cling to you, cocking their heads to the side and look at you kind of quizzically, as though they're contemplating your character. They come in every shade of green and blue, from neon greens and turquoises to deep forest shades. The most amazing thing is the way they fly, like crazy helicopters--backwards, forwards, with hairpin turns and stopping in a heartbeat. How the hell do they do it? Watching one hatch and harden is definitely a miracle of nature.

At any rate, they eat mosquitoes out of the water when they're adults, and baby mosquitoes when they're nymphs. They don't bite unless provoked, so really--what's not to love?

And now a pressing question.

Do you ever wake up and feel like you're coasting?

For me I get these frightened, almost panicked moments where I suddenly get a very Truman Show-esque feeling, like everything that's going on around me isn't real, like I'm suspended over an abyss, like something is not right. Something shakes you out of your day to day reverie. You realize that in this moment, you're living. Your life is ticking away, and what are you doing with it?

So I must ask the question: how do you handle your mortality?

I don't have an answer (this seems to be a common theme, sadly) but the most satisfying one I have come up with (though it isn't really that satisfying) is that you suck it up and just enjoy it. Make sure that you're always enjoying yourself, and if you're not, fix either the situation or your attitude. Because what else can you really do?

Not saying that we should race through life, though. Whenever I get the feeling that I'm coasting, I tend to go through a frenzied period where I try to put my life on fast forward. After a while I pause for a second, smooth down my hair, realize that I'm crazy and kick back with a slice of cheesecake in my favorite spot wherever I may be (I have a favorite spot everywhere I go) and I think about it. I let it go round on the conveyor belt of my brain for a while, and when I get nowhere, I generally move on with my business as though none of this moment of chaos ever happened. I realize that if you go too fast you miss what's right in front of you. So I try to reach some semblance of being okay with the whole issue and resuming trying to enjoy life, as fleeting as it is. Instead of thinking about it, I realize I should be doing something about it. Because damn, if the seconds are ticking away, shouldn't you be using them instead of worrying about not using them?

You may be wasting your time, but you should at least try to waste it well.

That was a generally inconclusive bit of rambling--I know I've addressed the issue briefly before, but these are my thoughts as they stand now (and they are a little more complete). It also makes me seem a little crazy. Oh well.

That's all for today.