Almost Clear

Not 100%.

But.

95%.

I’ll take it.

It was a big relief.

Although I still feel a little stigmatized and a little off, the last three days of being pretty isolated, being alone on Thanksgiving, it rather got to me a bit more than I think I was even letting myself know.

I had a few crying moments.

Not huge.

Just a softening sorrow that streaked my cheeks and left me feeling a little bereft, a bit alone, a little lost and at wits ends with what to do with myself.

So.

I did more homework.

And more laundry.

The good news that Hair Fairies gave me today is that I can cease and desist with the constant washing of the laundry.

I mean.

I like a nice warm set of clean sheets, and I probably change mine out pretty consistently once a week.

Not once a day.

Shit.

Tuesday I changed them twice.

I did one last big load of laundry when I got back from the treatment and washed it all out again.

They still found lice though.

Not like what they found on Tuesday.

I’m not sure I even wrote down the number from Tuesday, I was so grossed out.

The four people working on my hair, the two plus hours of fine tooth combing, the having to make phone calls and tell anyone who had been close to me, oh hey, um, guess what?

I have lice.

Yuck.

It was bad though.

120 + eggs.

There were more, they just stopped counting at 120, which qualifies as a severe case.

Great.

Plus.

36 live lice.

And they stopped counting the live ones at that point as well.

Shiver.

SHAVING IT ALL OFF!

Was my first thought.

And my second, third, fourth, and fifth.

Hell.

Every fucking time I had a tiny itch I was paranoid.

The woman doing my hair today put me at ease around that though, “your scalp will still itch for a few days, you have micro abrasions and scabs.”

Oh god.

Gross.

But.

At least it wasn’t because I was in severe infestation.

Severe.

How lovely.

Yick.

Anyway.

Today they found 2 baby lice and one egg.

The babies, thank fucking God, were too young to have started laying eggs.

The treatment today was about an hour and half.

And I was upped from 70% clear to 95/98% clear.

But.

Of course.

Not 100% since they found the two babies and the egg.

Fuckers.

That being said, I still got the full on treatment and if it could get rid of over 120 nits and 36 bugs, I was feeling pretty competent that what was done this morning would take care of the two babies and one egg.

Get off my head.

Please.

And.

Thank you.

I have one more appointment.

Sigh.

I will be going back to Hair Fairies at 11 a.m. on Friday.

And pray to God that’s the last time I ever need to go there again.

I’ve had more than an ample experience dealing with this, I can mark it off the check list of life experiences I don’t wish to have again.

Boyfriend decides to spend Christmas day with his ex-wife?

Check.

Boyfriend breaks up with me morning of my ten-year anniversary party.

Check.

Former best friend sells me bunk knock off Vietnam Vespa.

Check.

Which I injure myself on and have to have a month off from work while not on disability.

Check and check.

Lice.

Check.

And.

Check fucking mate.

I’d like some fun now that I’m in the “clear.”

Tomorrow I decided to go to yoga in the morning, signed up before I started my blog, then a couple of ladies will be coming over to my super clean and louse free abode to do some reading and doing of the deal.

And after that.

I am going to go out and get myself a Christmas tree.

I am getting it earlier than I have in the past, but I need a pick me up.

It was a sad lonely holiday.

And though I made fucking really good use of it, I mean, the reading I got done!  It was still super isolating and I missed being around people.

So.

I am going to hop on my scooter after I have lunch and go to an Ace Hardware store in the Castro and buy some ceramic blue old-fashioned Christmas tree light bulbs.

I may swing through Cole Valley first and see if they have them at Cole Hardware, they might and that would save me having to go all the way to the Castro, plus I like Cole Hardware, they’re local and like patronizing them.

The hardware store in the Inner Sunset had the big bulbs, but no in blue, multi-colored, which I considered, but I prefer the blue.

I also picked up two more ornaments for myself while I was in the Fillmore neighborhood.

Which can be a challenging place to shop, very high-end and a bit expensive.

I felt a little out of my league.

But.

I did find a very sweet painted glass toad stool with glitter on it at Nest.

And.

The most beautiful glass hand blown glass swan at Mudpie, a very high end upscale children’s store.

Expensive.

But.

Oh.

So, so pretty.

And though my five-day weekend did not turn out at all, AT ALL, like I had planned, holy moly, God laughs when I make plans, it wasn’t all bad.

I had some long, genuine, sweet phone conversations.

I took a nice long walk on the beach.

I cleaned my house.

I did laundry, a lot of laundry, ahem.

My house smells hella good.

I did so much reading for school.

So much.

I feel really good about that and I started to get some ideas for how to approach my last big Psychopathology paper.

I took a nap.

I mean.

That’s something.

It wasn’t all bad.

It was lonely.

True.

But I was never alone.

I always was taken care of and though there were moments of sadness and tears, I wasn’t drowning in them.

Ok.

Ok.

I did a little bit, I was pretty fucking upset Wednesday morning, but hey, I got through it and didn’t do anything stupid.

Like.

Cut off all my hair.

Or drink.

Or use.

Or start smoking cigarettes again.

Or eat a bunch of sugar.

Nope.

I bought myself sunflowers to remind me to look at the bright side of things.

And I roasted a chicken.

Self-care for the win.

And.

Frankly.

The holidays can only get better from here.

I mean.

Really.

It’s time for fun.

Bring it the fuck on.

Seriously.

 

Burn The Mother Fucking

House down.

I mean burn it the fuck down.

Any question?

ACK.

Ok.

Perhaps I am being a tiny bit dramatic.

But as I just took another load of clothes out to the washing machine to be washed in special detergent I have some reason for the drama.

I have.

Ugh.

I have.

Grrr.

I have lice.

FUCK MY LIFE.

Ok.

Done being a drama queen.

I don’t have lice any more, at least not on my head, I sat for a three-hour treatment at Hair Fairies on Fillmore.

This was not what I had planned for my day.

NOT AT ALL.

Sigh.

And it was a weirdo day to begin with anyway.

I had to go over to Scooter Centre and get some things straighten out.

Considering that the California State Franchise Tax Board sent me a nice little notice telling me that they were going to be garnishing my wages and levying a fine on me since I had failed to register my Vespa.

Um.

Excuse me.

The Vespa that I signed over to Scooter Centre to be junked because it’s not really a Vespa.

Over a year and a half ago?

That Vespa?

The gift that keeps on giving, I thought to myself, but then I also thought, hmm, could be worse things and it made me think of my friend who had sold me the scooter and I realized that though I missed him a lot after the whole deal went sour and I lost my $2600 investment on a fake scooter, I hadn’t thought of him in a while.

I hope he is well.

And so.

I went to Scooter Centre to straighten it out, after having gone to yoga to work the kinks out, and they were great, found my paper work, took the notice from the tax board, took care of it and said, no worries, you’re all clear, we got this.

Then I went to Rainbow to grab a few things for the trip to Nevada for Thanksgiving.

A trip that I ended up canceling today after finding out I had lice.

God.

It is just yuck, yuck, and more yuck, but I have had moments of it being funny and I’m sure I’ll be over it once my house stops smelling like tea tree oil and whatever else is in the washing spray that I have been using on everything.

After I went to Rainbow, I went to work.

The dad informed me that the boys and the mom had lice.

I instantly felt my scalp itch.

The thing is.

It’s been itchy scratchy for weeks.

But.

I never once thought lice.

Oh God.

I thought I was having a psycho somatic response to old trauma being stirred up from work I was doing in grad school.

I thought I was having a reoccurrence of excoriation from when I first got sober.

I thought maybe I had stress induced psoriasis.

I thought, maybe it’s dandruff.

I thought, maybe my shampoo or conditioner or hair products changed and I didn’t know.

I pondered briefly bed bugs.

Yes.

I did.

But it was contained to my scalp and so I thought, literally, this is all in my head.

No.

No.

No.

Martines, it’s not all in your head, it’s all on your head.

ARGH.

When the mom and the boys got back I expressed that I felt symptomatic and that it was probably something I had as well.

They were great, called Hair Fairies and set me up with an appointment to be screened and if needed to be treated.

And guess what?

I have lice.

She swiped once through my hair and found an egg.

She swiped a few more times and found a louse.

Shivers.

She said, “we may not be able to give you a full treatment today as I’m done at five and it’s already after four.”

NOOOOOOOOO.

I didn’t cry, but I was upset.

I actually didn’t cry until I got home and blew  a fuse on the washing machine because I had overloaded it with my bedding and then I didn’t just cry.

I screamed a big bloody “fuck you!”

Then I went and made dinner.

Then I messaged a friend, checked the fuse box, flipped the fuse, reset the power and voila, the machine works, and is now on its second load of laundry, this time all my towels.

At the shop the woman helping me flagged in another and another and another.

Four different people worked on my head.

I called a bunch of folks that I had worked with recently and told them I had lice.

Nothing says sexy like telling someone you have lice.

Blech.

The treatment killed anything that they didn’t comb out of my head.

But.

I had to make a second appointment.

They said it’s not a guarantee with the amount of hair I have and the thickness of it.

70% gone, but not 100% gone.

They were adamant about booking me another treatment.

I was adamant about accepting.

And grateful that my employers had called a head and given over their credit card info.

All said and done.

$303 for the treatment and products.

Fuck.

But better that than shave my head.

I had to cancel my Thanksgiving plans, which I was super bummed about, but I am very grateful my friend wasn’t on the road driving from Nevada when I called her, that would have sucked.

But yeah.

I had to cancel.

And I made another appointment to go in for the second treatment on Saturday.

So.

I’m in town this week.

Not working.

NOT CONTAGIOUS.

I repeat.

Not contagious.

The little fuckers are gone.

I just have to continue to wash laundry for a while in case there are any eggs laying about for another week.

Which is a hassle, but whatever, like I said, at least I didn’t have bedbugs, then I’d really be burning down the house.

And one of my friends whom I called and gave the alert to invited me to Thanksgiving in Marin.

I’ll be doing the deal at Strawberry Hill.

Cool beans.

So.

Yeah.

I’m in town.

If you want to hang and aren’t afraid of cooties, hit me up.

Otherwise.

I foresee reading for school, reading for school, and more reading for school.

Some yoga.

Walks on the beach.

And maybe a trip to the MOMA.

I’ll be around.

And I suspect that something awesome will happen.

It usually does.

I could use some awesome.

Seriously.