Ring of Fire
February 12th, 2008
Through a series of strange and ridiculous circumstances at my place of employment, I ended up hiding in a pile of palmettos (long, ridiculous story that isn’t as unprofessional as it sounds … I guess. Let’s just say I got pulled into a covert meeting outside and someone drove by and … OH GOD, IT IS JUST RIDICULOUS) And if hiding in the BUSHES as a grown woman isn’t absurd enough, the clandestine meeting quickly turned dangerous when I — and hey, a quick interjection here to say that you know how I love the hyperbole? THERE IS NONE HERE — I ended up plucking, one by one, a pack of biting fire ants from my butt. Yes, you read that right. During my brief stay in the bushes, I felt a familiar prickling sensation INSIDE MY UNDERWEAR and each time I reached my hand back there to figure out what the Christ was going on, I removed a fire ant and realized I was seated directly into a mound of them. And … and one or two of them reached the front, and that’s all I have to say about that, except that it hurts less than you’d think it does, but OH DOES IT ITCH, though the ones that sneaked into my ballet flats managed to leave quite a searing mark.
Honestly, I wish I were making that up. I had ants — an entire mound of BITING ANTS — in my underwear, and when … when I took my pants off later, at least five crushed carcasses came FROM MY UNDERWEAR. And we won’t talk about the horrible moment I had removing them — again, FROM MY UNDERWEAR — in front of my coworker as they snacked on my tender white rear end flesh.
Thank you, I would like to die now, please. I … I don’t know why I think talking about it will make it better, because it won’t. I have a fire ant bite on my girly bits and at least thirty on my … backside. And it’s too horrible for me to sit on, and when I told Adam, he all but screeched, “I CANNOT HEAR THIS. IT IS TOO AWFUL.” And when I — for reasons unknown — tried to show him, he wasn’t having it.
But you get to hear ALL ABOUT IT, because you can’t tell me to stop. I will, however, spare you from an illustrative photograph of my devoured backside. Be glad you don’t live with me, for I’d be dropping my pants right now seeking sympathy.
Other than being paid to get gnawed on, my day was somewhere in the range of super-stressful as I worked myself into a wild frenzy, realizing that — sorry — we have actual MOVERS SHOWING UP HERE to take us away to ANOTHER STATE. I realize I should have known this — I mean, I TOLD you about it — but the reality hadn’t set in until I packed up more than half the kitchen and emptied the refrigerator entirely. Nothing says “moving!” like tossing months-old bottles of Kikkoman realizing that you probably won’t get around to making that stir-fry before you leave.
Honestly, I don’t know why I’m trying to focus on anything other than the fire ant mound, because half of you have stopped reading by now because again: FIRE ANT MOUND PLUS ASS CHEEKS AND GIRLY BITS = NOT GOOD.
I’d also like to point out that we spent most of the evening under a tornado warning and for one harrowing moment, watched the news announce, “If you live in XX area, we have seen tornadoes touch down, so you might want to be alert and prepare to take action!” Oh, and there was HAIL.
I don’t need to tell you, of course, that XX area was my house. However, mercifully, the storm has passed, and the warning lifted. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t shit myself and come running inside like a little girl when my neighbor opened his garage door while I was trying to get Sunny to finally go poop after a long night cooped up to keep her bowels covered. And honestly, all I could think was that things were going a little too well and of COURSE the tornado was going to come and rip our house down, OF COURSE.
I don’t think that’s a healthy line of thinking, and I’m pretty sure most therapists wouldn’t approve. It’s hardly what I learned in CBT, after all.
But while we’re admitting things, I’ll tell you that I am excited, but I am also very scared. But what scares me isn’t that I’m scared, it’s that I’m very clearly most afraid of being without a career the way I’m accustomed to having one. I mean, sure, I’m sure I can if I want to, and of course, yes, I’m scared of not making friends and trying to have kids and not being able to, and all KINDS of big, scary things, but it’s easier to be afraid of not having a career — a career is controllable, which is why I like it. Come to think of it, this might be a very good thing. A scary, but very good thing.
But I’m still pretty darn terrified of everything I just said and then some.
And again, most of you just read blah blah blah FIRE ANTS IN PANTS, blah. But really, that’s kind of how I feel too.
FIRE. ANTS. IN. UNDERPANTS.
AND CLEARLY I CANNOT TURN OFF THE CAPS.
Happy Wednesday! (Do you know that I wrote “happy Thursday” before I realized that it is only Wednesday? Goddamn, what a crushing disappointment. Then again, I need every damn day I can get.)
*Hello! I’m Johnny Cash. I love that song. Don’t make fun of me.
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
30 Comments Add your own
1. Teej | February 12th, 2008 at 8:59 pm
Is it worth the pain to know that your horrible, awful day makes for a great blog post?
Probably not. Fire ants in underpants is never worth it. I’m sort of squirming just imagining it. Sorry!
2. She Likes Purple | February 12th, 2008 at 9:00 pm
Um, here it’s still Tuesday. BOO.
Also, it’s a good thing you quit already or AWKWARD “remember whens” going on there.
Feel better!
3. Style Bard | February 12th, 2008 at 9:03 pm
It’s…Tuesday. Isn’t… it? Is it? I…Wednesday is tomorrow?
Anyhow… “girly bits” … I’m reading (and.. laughing, sorry..) and then we get to Girly Bits…
Bits? Like… something one would snack on (wow I just grossed myself out). Like… how you mix bits of things in your Blizzard at Dairy Queen? Like.. bacon bits?
Apparently my “bits” issue is ’cause I relate it to food. Good to know. Ew, girly bits.
Or like, biting? (I’ll stop now.)
4. jonniker | February 12th, 2008 at 9:04 pm
HA! Sorry — it’s only Tuesday for 15 more minutes here, so I figured by the time most people would read this, it would be Wednesday : )
And yes, SB, I say “bits” all the time, and I never THOUGHT of bacon bits. Although snatch and or snack would be much more appropriate in this context. And: ew. Why am I still talking?
5. kirida | February 12th, 2008 at 9:28 pm
I think fire ants in your underpants automatically bestows you with caps lock authority.
6. Dave | February 12th, 2008 at 9:37 pm
I don’t care if you’re exaggerating or not–that’s just friggin’ hilarious. BTW, have you seen Vince “Juanny Cash” Mira– I was just reminded of it by your title. Johnny kicked ass.
7. Desha | February 12th, 2008 at 10:47 pm
Fire ANTS! In your PANTS! Makes you do a DANCE!
Sorry. That was just way, way to hilarious. You always, always make me laugh SO hard, it is truly incredible!
8. Kara | February 12th, 2008 at 11:08 pm
I haven’t commented in a very long time but fire ants brings me out of lurking. thank you for blogging about it….best laugh I’ve had all month! And I did read all the stuff you thought no one would. good luck with moving, I’m still unpacking from 6 months ago (2 moves in a year will make procrastination set in)
9. Jennifer | February 12th, 2008 at 11:13 pm
“Ring of Fire” always reminds me of that urban legend that went around a while back that Johnny Cash’s estate had sold the song rights to Preparation H for hemorrhoid commercials… I actually believed that story for a while.
10. Debbie in the UK | February 13th, 2008 at 12:44 am
Oh Jonniker, you make me laugh and you are a brilliant, witty writer. The thought of fire ants in my knickers though….yuk. No wonder you want to get the hell out of Florida! Have you got lots of winter clothes for Vermont?
Are you really going to now settle down and make a BABY with Adam? How exciting!!!
Best of luck with the move.
Debbie
11. TwoBusy | February 13th, 2008 at 6:17 am
I wish I could say I was surprised that you somehow managed to transform an ordinary Tuesday into clandestine tete-a-tetes in tropical flora, resulting in your nether regions being assaulted by angry, biting fire ants… but we both know I’d be lying.
12. Sadie | February 13th, 2008 at 6:52 am
I…I…I just don’t understand. WHY did you need to hide in a cluster of palmettos during your work day? And I am more concerned that you had to do it long enough that you actually SAT on the ground…and for a length of time sufficient to allow a parade of fire ants to infiltrate your drawers. DIDN’T YOU FEEL THEM CRAWLING? OMG I JUST DIED thinking of that sensation OMG
13. Jess | February 13th, 2008 at 6:56 am
I am in my chair, twitching, and my ears are kind of ringing because OH MY GOD FIRE ANTS IN YOUR UNDERWEAR GAHHHHHH. And also, I really want to know how this situation came about.
14. askew adventures | February 13th, 2008 at 6:58 am
omg, I hate fire ants and I feel SOO very bad for you. I got bit by fire ants for the first time over Thanksgiving weekend and it was the most painful and itchy experience. There are still marks on my feet. I can’t even fathom my behind being bitten. I don’t want to sit down in Florida ever again.
On the moving fears, I totally feel you. A year and a half ago I moved to Salt Lake City alone for no reason other than to see what it was like to live in a new city. I didn’t have a job and I knew no one there. It was totally scary, but also probably one of the best things I’ve ever done. Embrace your new adventure (which it sounds like you are already doing).
15. Swistle | February 13th, 2008 at 7:38 am
We say “bits” around here, too, to mean “parts.” In fact, if I may briefly snicker about my children, my two older boys both call a certain area of their body a “bit.” Which—ha ha ha! I’m not correcting it! Not yet anyway!
16. Beth | February 13th, 2008 at 9:44 am
Fire ants: another good reason to leave Florida. Blech!! I’m not sure I understand why you were hiding in the palmettos (which I initially mistook for palmetto bugs, which would be even more disgusting than fire ants, but only slightly), but I hope your hindquarters are feeling better very soon.
17. chirky | February 13th, 2008 at 10:11 am
Oh, poor you! I used to convince myself that making an “X” on the welt with my fingernail made the bites stop itching so badly, but I imagine that would be pretty difficult to do given the, uh, location of your personal war zone. That, and it doesn’t actually help. But it looks pretty, king of like a lattice-work pie crust.
18. Kristin H | February 13th, 2008 at 10:36 am
I think you might need to retitle this entry, based on the fact that you are actually channeling James Brown:
http://tinyurl.com/3cmchp
19. Andrea | February 13th, 2008 at 10:50 am
I once sat in my grandma’s lush green grass with a good book for nearly an hour before my mom came outside and shrieked at me to stand up for the love of GOD STAND UP GIRL! I was snack food for chiggers, and while chigger bites aren’t possibly as scary or instantly painful as fire ant bites, they are equally devastating, especially in the girly bit region, because they burrow. YES, they burrow into the skin where they’ve bitten and continue to feed until they are full. In fact, I don’t know if they ever vacate the premesis when they’re full or if they just die a fat, happy, contendedly gluttonous death INSIDE THE BITE.
It’s disturbing.
But that’s why the chigger medicine is like clear nail polish on top of the bite. It cuts off the oxygen supply and they die (inside the bite — shudder) faster. And I sat on them. For a long ass time.
You know, I don’t know what it is about your site that makes me feel like sharing things I don’t normally share with people, but it happens every time I read here. You have a gift for drawing it out of me. Not that I’m sure you want to know what all I have to share.
I hope your girly bits heal soon. You could get some anesthetic spray called Dermoplast. Website: http://www.dermoplast.com/. They gave it to me at the hospital to use on my nethers after giving birth, so I know it’s safe to use in that area, and it takes away pain. It really does.
20. Lauren | February 13th, 2008 at 10:59 am
You know how sometimes you feel like weird things only happen to you? My husband would have asserted the “you” in that phrase was me. But now I that read your blog I can firmly say that the “you” is Jonna. Does that make sense or am I rambling?
Hope the pain/itching subsides. Never felt a fire ant and hope not to EVER based on your description.
21. H | February 13th, 2008 at 1:49 pm
I just said to a coworker that yesterday (Tuesday) felt like it should be Thursday. I think maybe this week is 10 days long.
Sorry about the girly bits, sounds horrible.
22. Mauigirl52 | February 13th, 2008 at 8:37 pm
You poor thing! I can relate; one time I threw my jeans in with some fiberglass curtains in the dryer and apparently fiberglass is very irritating! Those jeans itched like crazy!
23. MsPrufrock | February 14th, 2008 at 7:20 am
I feel bad for you, yet can’t stop laughing. Sorry.
As for Johnny Cash, anyone who would make fun of you for liking that song or most other Cash songs doesn’t know shit about music. That’s that.
24. Karen W | February 15th, 2008 at 2:55 am
OUCH!
Fire ants are straight from the pit of hell. Not to sound overly dramatic, but I am so deathly allergic, your little escapade would have likely come close to killing me.. So sorry,….
25. Karen | February 15th, 2008 at 4:22 pm
Oh Jonniker, you are so sweet. Fiery butt and all. Don’t forget that ‘the internet’ will be moving right along with you and will be here to help support you through all those ‘scary things’.
26. Sarah | February 16th, 2008 at 8:41 am
Gaa! This is the stuff of NIGHTMARES! Fire ants in underpants. It also sounds like something Johnny Knoxville would do on a dare. Or just for fun.
27. amber | February 16th, 2008 at 9:38 am
Sweet god, IN YOUR UNDERWEAR. I am VERY sympathetic, and also…YUCK. So sorry!
28. Catherine | February 19th, 2008 at 2:43 pm
Oh dear God. I’ve had fire ants swarm into my garden gloves and also over my feet, and I thought bites between the toes were the worst! I know the pain and blistering and insane itching as they heal, and I can’t even imagine getting them in my underwear. You poor thing. But think of it this way – it’s Florida’s special way of saying goodbye. You can think of this whenever you feel tired of winter in Vermont.
29. Jonniker. » I Got A&hellip | April 16th, 2008 at 7:04 pm
[...] ANTS IN MY PANTS and IN MY HAIR. DEAD BODIES IN MY HAIR. (And yes, uh, this was separate from the ants in my underpants, which means I am an ant MAGNET. SEND [...]
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