I got stung by a bee. I spent my entire childhood deathly afraid of this incident coming to be. Naturally, actually getting stung was nothing like I figured it'd ultimately be. First things first, I was indoors. I was in the hall of the building that hosts the Plan II and Japanese offices, and I felt something on my neck which I figured was the oak pollen that keeps falling off of the trees this time of year. I grab the offending "plant" and throw it down to the ground, at which point I discover it's a bee and stand motionless, stunned at what I just did to this very sneaky bee. A few seconds later, I felt a sharp pain on the inside of one of the fingers in my hand. I guess I got stung.Thankfully, I had the presence of my friend Kate to play mom. She stomped the bee to death, then set about getting me medical treatment. She ran all over the fourth floor offices, eventually finding the first aid kit buried in the back of the Asian Studies offices. In quick succession, I received Tylenol, Neosporin, and a band-aid, and everything was all better. I guess I'm not allergic to bees, either.But now, I can say that I survived one of my life's big fears unscathed. Go me.
