snap 2

A lazy bumblebee leaves an invisible trail in the air while I watch it in terror.  I've always had a phobia of insects in general, and buzzing, stinging insects in particular.  It's not clear to me if there was a reason, an allergic reaction to a sting as a baby perhaps, but the fact is the sight of anything with more than four legs makes me freeze up.  Usually I can't even scream and can barely breathe.  It's horrible.  It's especially horrible when people think I'm actually brave because I can't scream, run away or flail my arms to protect myself.  It's worst when it's bees and wasps.  Everybody thinks it's just hilarious, how brave I am, how i stare them down, daring them to come at me.  For some reason spiders don't bother me so much, even when they're dangling by their silk threads from the ceiling, right at eye level.  There's just something more menacing about those bees.  Maybe part of it is the erratic way they fly.  You can never tell which way they're going to go.  They change direction randomly, without any warning at all.  It makes me very nervous not to be able to predict with any certainty when, where from, or even if they'll come at me.  Yeah, I think it's the randomness.  There's no reason for a bee to fly right into your face just as there's no reason for it to fly right past you.  It's like being constantly at risk for an attack.  Your defenses have to be up all the time and it's exhausting, you can get really tired of it really quickly.  Then, when you're tired, you're in danger of having unreasonable reactions.  You get violent, behave in an erratic, random manner yourself, trying to neutralize the randomness outside you, I suppose.  Mostly, you have to reestablish the pattern.  You have to take out the random, the arbitrary, and get back to the logical actions and reactions you've come to expect.  That's when you have to kill the bee.  It's not only the sting that threatens, it's its whole existence of unpredictability that knocks you off-balance and makes you feel like your whole world is collapsing.  That's when you have to take it out.  It all makes sense now.  I feel full of purpose, even righteousness.  My actions were all justified, even if it's hard for the police to believe somebody so slight and afraid of insects was able to take down a neighbor in such a way.  A neighbor who did nothing but cause trouble.  So yes, I swatted him like an insect.  And I had every reason to do it.

snap 1

All those days we spent thinking they would last forever.  All those nights that seemed to be endless at the time.  I can still remember how you smelled when I snuggled up to you in the rain, with my arms around you under your coat.  You always wore itchy, woolly sweaters for half the year and sternly pressed linen shirts the other half.  I teased you, trying to get you to loosen up your dress code, but you almost never did.  Would you think about our trip to the south now?  You wanted to drive because it was faster, but I wanted to take the train because it was more romantic.  In the end, you caved in to me like you almost always did.  I couldn't just sit in my seat.  I stayed in the dining car most of the time, looking out the window.  I stayed right up against the glass.  Sometimes you came up to hug me from behind for a few minutes before going back to sit, laughing at my childish enthusiasm.  The trip was one of the best of my life.  The weather was perfect - sunny, but not too hot, with only a few clouds and a gentle breeze.  We wandered through little, twisty streets all day, not even stopping for lunch, just eating apples and bananas and grapes as we roamed the town.  Then we had quiet suppers in small restaurants with almost no other customers.  Finally we went to our hotel bed, softer than our own bed, but narrower.  Your skin under my fingertips had all the heat of the day stored up in it.  You radiated, you almost glowed in the dark from the lines that I traced on your back and arms.  You were so smooth.  My hands slid over your flesh almost unstoppably.  I was connected to you by your energy.  First I absorbed from you and then I gave back, feeling like sparks could flow from my fingers.  At first you were a passive conductor, allowing the energy to pass through your body but doing nothing to direct it.  Then you started to mimic my actions, your hands brushing lightly over my back and shoulders.  It was perfect.  It was even better than the sex we had afterwards, and our sex was always good.  Even though massage was a part of our repertoire, we never had such electric experiences at home or on other trips, but it didn't really matter.  Even the unrepeatability didn't bother me, since I felt it was like seeing a comet that passes every 1000 years or so.  I remember how I felt with you, always.  I felt safe and calm, comfortable, fearless.  Everything about me that was good was magnified and the bad minimized.  I couldn't even see your flaws, your doublethink, your hypocracies.  Until just about 10 minutes ago.  And that's when it seemed like the best thing in the world to do would be to stab you with the carving knife a hundred times so all your condescension and all your love with strings attached would leave that soulless shell of your body, where energy will never flow again.

what the left hand does

The label looks dreamy, psychedelic, but the beer holds no surprises.  This is not to say it's bad or boring; it's just the kind of stout I like, in fact.

It smells earthy and stouty, and in the glass it's an opaque dark brown, with just a little touch of red in strong light.  The head is frothy at first, but doesn't take long to flatten into a thin beige cap.  The beer has a smooth, kind of toasty flavor.  There's just the slightest bit of sweetness, which could be the oat, or more likely the lactose sugar.  It's almost too easy to drink - if I had more, it might all be gone before the end of the night.

Here's to you, out-of-doors

a pair of bears

I always tends towards the darker beers, but an amber ale can be tasty and refreshing.  Boont has an eye-catching bottle, with that pond and moose, and a bear on the neck that seems like he should be right at home in Madrid.  It also has an interesting bottle cap.

Here comes the osa, with wine and cheese

If that doesn't say "California" to you...

Boont has a warm caramel color and fluffy head, but not much smell.  The first taste is a little bitter but immediately after it becomes sweeter, caramelly.  The head will dissipate after some minutes, but there's always a little foam on top.  After warming up for a few minutes, the ale really doesn't develop any stronger smell, and the taste stays ale-y and bittersweet.  Not bad to relax with in the late afternoon.

it's named just for me

After reading Slate's article in praise of Labor Day drinking,  I went out to hunt down my own drinks from my country of birth.  I found some in the usual place.  The first one I picked up seemed to be calling me from across the aisle: Raging Bitch.

The name's too big for the bottle

The citrusy smell is evident on opening.  When poured, the beer has and interesting color, dark gold I'd say, with a full, very foamy head.  The first sip has a strong citrus flavor, but not too heavy.  It goes slightly bitter within a couple of seconds of swallowing, and as the beer settles it gets a little sweet and even malty.  On the whole, Flying Dog has provided a zesty, stimulating beverage, with an eye catching name.