These are the things that have been pulling my attention away from the blog duties.
1. Making dumb dubsmash videos and tormenting my loved ones with them.
2. Making out with my new deck, with full tongue.
3. Working for living, living and a-working, taking what they’re giving cuz I’m working for a living, to quoth H. Lewis and his News.
Speaking of new deck times, the other day my friends came over with their youngun (don’t worry I stopped the make out stuff for that) and he pointed out a bee to me, and a few minutes later pointed to a bee again and proclaimed it another bee. When asked how he knew this second bee wasn’t just the same bee as the first bee, he looked at me and said “because they look different.” He didn’t follow this up with “dumbass” but he was thinking it, I could see it in his five-year-old eyes.
Speaking of bees, I read this book called The Bees, by Laline Paull, and a lot of it was about the meaning of sameness and what happens when one busts out (buzzts out) as different, which is the sort of existential question that my young friend was alluding to, methinks. It’s a fictional dystopian Handsmaid’s Talesian story about Flora, a worker bee who has abilities beyond her station and is given the opportunity to move through different castes in the hive. For those who like dystopian fiction, this one is a fresh take. For me, the story wasn’t as interesting as the setting– I spent the entire time thinking “do bees really do that? Are hives really set up like that?” so maybe I should be reading nonfiction about bees since I seem to have so many gee-dee questions about them. if you want fictionalized, militant, classist m-effer bees though, this one is it.