Baywatch Sandals

When I was a child, innumerable things went wrong in my little life to produce the colorful adult personality I have today.

While I will blog about many of these stories in the days and weeks to come, I wanted to share a particularly bad experience I had one summer when I was about 10.

Baywatch was a really hot show during that time, and I absolutely dreamed of becoming a buxom beauty that saved lives and always got the good looking guys.( Mind you, I had red hair, freckles and braces.) So much for that pipe dream.

One day, I was at Walgreens with my dad, and stumbled upon official licensed baywatch sandals. It was meant to be. Wearing those sandals would surely make me into that person I wanted to be.

Soon after acquiring said sandals, my dad and I took a road trip down the Oregon coast with a friend of mine. It started out a great trip - we stopped at Tillamook Cheese Factory, watched how they made the cheese blocks, ate ice cream and bought cow plushies.

The disappointment came when we reached the beach. I was very excited to show off my Baywatch sandals to the world, as while wearing them, of course I was not the geeky-looking kid. I WAS PRETTY.

Of course, my friend had not brought sandals with her and wanted to borrow mine so she could wade in the shore (as if she didn't KNOW how magical the sandals were...). Reluctantly, I let her use them, but on the condition that she was really careful to not lose them.

Inevitably, she lost a sandal. She told me right away and I immediately started frantically searching around for it with my feet and hands. After about 5 minutes, I lost hope, figuring that my poor sandal had been swept out to ol' Davey Jones locker. But then! I felt something bump into my foot! It was my lost sandal!

I quickly snatched it up,but what was in my hand was not my lost sandal.It was a crab.

As soon as I realized, I screamed and threw the crab up in the air.

Watching the whole scene from the beach, my dad was laughing his ass off.

It was time to leave anyway, so we packed up our stuff, my pouty face and all and headed back to the car.

Friend said she was sorry again about the sandal, and I said it was ok, but I secretly hold a grudge to this day.

When we got into the car, I was so distraught about my incomplete pair of baywatch sandals I ended up shutting my bare foot in the door.

Epic Flea Battle

A couple weeks ago, I noticed that my two cats were scratching a bit more than normal.

We were having a hot streak, so I figured that they might have gotten dry skin, since they are indoor/outdoor kitties. On an evening two days later, I noticed that the scratching did not stop. I parted some fur on one of them, and realized that they had fleas.

Crap.

So, I immediately went over to the grocery store to find a solution. I scanned the shelves in the pet section for a way to rid my poor kitties of the biting pests.

These were my options:

Best flea/tick drops: $1,000,000

Other brand flea/tick drops: $40

Flea collars: $8/ea.

The flea collars being the cheapest, I opted for them. I figured that since it was going to be cool again anyway, I would just get them the collars, which would also prevent fleas from jumping on them again from outside.

I marched into the house and ripped open the packaging that contained said collars. I corralled them, and outfitted them with their new flea control devices.

Stupid fleas. I wondered why everyone made such a big deal about them, since you could just buy flea collars and be rid of the buggers. Feeling accomplished, I put on a movie and went to bed.

The collars really did not smell very good, and I could tell the cats hated them. The next couple days, they were doing things that were completely out of the ordinary for them. They were sitting on the counters instead of on the couches, and getting really grouchy when I shooed them off.

One of the nights, I got in bed, and Kitty Boy jumped up after me. He had a nasty look on his face, which was the same look he's had since I put the collars on them. I got settled in anyway, and picked up a book. A minute later, I felt something very warm on my feet - For a split second, I thought he had sat on my feet and it was nice and warm. Then, I felt the wetness. I jumped up, yelling profanities at him - Being a stubborn ass anyway and pissed off about his collar, he just sat on the bed and glared at me. I picked him up and tossed him in the litter box. I gathered up all my bedding and threw it in the wash. Luckily, I had a clean set ready to go, so I put those on and washed my feet.



Two nights after that, as I was going through my nightly routine of watching a movie before bed, I felt a small prick on my arm. I looked down, and it was a flea. That was when it hit me. The flea collars REPEL fleas, meaning that they moved on from the animals and into the house. I looked back up, and saw the fucking Trojan horse sitting on the end of my bed. Kitty. All of a sudden feeling itchy all over, I shooed the cat off my bed, threw all my bedding into the wash again, and went to go take a hot shower.

At least I had a clean set of bedding from the other night, but I did not sleep well that night. I kept feeling itchy and imagining that the nasty little things were crawling all over me.

The next day, I figured that they must not only be in my bed, but probably everywhere else the cats lay in the house. Motherfucker. Humming "Bombs Over Baghdad", I went to the drugstore for a flea fogger. A friend and I had planned on getting a couple drinks together anyway that night, so I put the cats outside and let my insecticidal fury rain down upon the unsuspecting fleas.



I was able to get a sheet and a pillowcase relatively dry in half an hour, and had a small throw blanket in one of my dresser drawers. I put the sheet down, and curled up in a ball under the small blanket. Needless to say, I did not sleep well that night. I was cold and uncomfortable. At least I had killed them, though. They were gone...




The next day, I went shopping for a new TV, as I had received a bonus from work. I got home and called ex-boyfriend to help me put together my TV stand, and get everything hooked up. I re-arranged all my furniture, we got the stand put together and TV hooked up. I was so excited to have a nice new TV, I turned on my XBOX and started up a game so we could see how it looked. I sat on my couch with my controller, completely in awe of the glowing box.

A pinch on my arm ripped me away from my beautiful HD haven. I looked down, and it was a fucking flea. I immediately went into a rage, freaking out and telling ex-boyfriend that I had let off a fogger, and that they should all be DECEASED. That was when he also found a little vampire feasting on his flesh as well. He calmed me down and told me that it won't kill all of them, but that they were pretty much incapacitated, and that I would be seeing less and less of them.

Next night: Couldn't go enjoy my TV, because my living room was infested.

Night after: Feeling forlorn and defeated because there's still fleas. My living room has been taken from me.

Next day: I got my drive back, and went shopping for flea drops. If I couldn't suffocate them, I was going to poison their food supply.

I got to the pet store and these were my options:

Best flea/tick drops: $1,000,000

Comprable to best flea/tick drops: $999,999

Next best flea/tick drops: $40

Bottom of the line flea/tick drops: $15

I went for next best.

I got home, and squeezed the little packages in between the cats shoulder blades, so they couldn't reach it and lick it off.

Of course, my girl cat, (who's a bit of a problem child) fucking immediately turns her head in a 180 and licks some of the stuff off her fur.



She starts drooling uncontrollably, which freaks me out, because I'm afraid she's just offed herself. I spent the rest of the evening anxiously researching the product on the internet, and using search strings such as "Cat licked flea treatment" and "What happens if cat licked XXX brand flea drops?". She ended up being fine.

I knew this method wasn't going to be immediate, so I gave up my TV for another night, but went to my bedroom like Boris and Natasha thinking that they've truly devised the perfect plan to kill moose and squirrel.

Next night: Tested living room area, played video games. Found one flea on me, it seemed lethargic, but still not dead. Of course, this made me feel itchy, so I turned off the TV and retreated to the bedroom.

Night after: Discovered that one couch must have less fleas, because when I sat on the other one, I seemed to have twice as many fleas jumping on me. Sat on "safe-ish" couch, and was content to have only one flea on me every 20 minutes, instead of double that.

Today, I came to the realization after sitting on the "safe-ish" couch for a couple hours playing video games, that I've become used to the fleas. This is not ok.

I went back to the pet store, to look for another option. I found "all-natural" flea spray, which is comprised of a butt-load of natural oils and no pesticides or chemicals. I bought that and brought it home. Kitty Boy is outside, so I decide to try it on problem child first. The back of the bottle made it seem so easy - simply brush the cats' fur the opposite way it lays, ensuring that the spray gets to the skin.

1. Cats don't like having their fur brushed the other way.

2. Cats also don't like getting sprayed.


So, there I was, trying to hold onto her, whilst spraying the magical natural liquid that would dispatch the fleas to the next life. Par for the course, she's being overly dramatic, trying to claw away from me, and foaming at the mouth.



I was able to get what I felt was a sufficient amount on her, and let her go.

Then, I decided to spray down my couches. The bottle states that it rids your house and pet of fleas, while "providing a fresh spice fragrance" ... My house now smells like Christmas took a big shit of scented pine cones everywhere.

I'm really hoping that the combination of vacuuming, flea drops and Christmas spray rids me of these things, but I'm battle-weary.

If anyone has any suggestions, it would be appreciated.

I have not won. I am failing America.