Buggin Out

Today I was forced to bug out because I was buggin out.  I'll explain in a minute.  Remember bug out from M*A*S*H?  According to Urban Dictionary bug out is British army slang meaning:  to move away from your current location very quickly (often under fire) because your position has been compromised by the enemy.  Okay, the important bit for me is the compromised by the enemy part.  Next buggin out.  Urban Dictionary gives this one a four part definition:  1) to perform an action or display a behaviour that contradicts your normal persona; 2) to unintentionally act like you're under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug while sober; 3) conduct unbecoming of a person of sound mind and body; and 4) brief mental impairment.  I'm thinking #4 is most applicable in my case.  There was also bugging out (oh, what a difference the letter G makes) which apparently means:  when someone's stoned and starts freaking out over random ass shit.  Seriously.  These definitions, and the words themselves make more sense when you realize that 'Urban Dictionary is written by you' and when I last checked there had been 7,682,477 definitions added since 1999.  Their slogan is 'Define Your World' so I'm guessing that basically anyone can add any shit they want on there.  But their slogan could well be 'Defining a Generation.'  It's enlightening reading, that's for sure.

What does this have to do with me?  What was the cause of my brief mental impairment which caused me to flee my house?  Who is this enemy compromising my home sweet home?  Well appropriately, it's bugs.  Ants to be precise.  Appears there's an infestation.  The bitch of it is, I don't know where they're coming from.  So there's poison strategically placed everywhere.  The kind that the ants are supposed to take back to the colony. You know -- kill the queen, kill the colony.  But here's the thing...in order to kill the colony I can't kill the ants.  It's a bit of a catch-22.  And it is driving me crazy watching them wandering in their dizzy little ant circles around the windowsills, across the walls, here, there and everywhere.

So I got out.  Gave the little blighters the run of the house.  I put on my backpack and took the dog up to the top of the hydro cut. It's a decent hike, about 2.5 hours round trip.  Lots of loose gravel and rock.  Perfect for turning an ankle or twisting a knee.  Great practice for the Camino.  And so nice to spend time in the great outdoors where the sun was shining and a cool wind was blowing.

And not a bug in sight.



Book Review:  YA novel Hollow City is the second in the Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children series.  It's a cool concept of combining the story telling with vintage photos.  Pretty sure the author writes around the pics as it's pretty unlikely he could write the story then find supporting photos to go along with his narrative.  I loved the first in the series; I only liked this second one.  But enough to read another.  Then I'll see where it goes from there.

I love finding a book that I can't put down.  And I hate finding a book that I can't put down.  'Cause that's it for me for getting anything else done, including sleeping.  A.S.A Harrison's The Silent Wife was one such book. Even though she tells you right from the get go what's going to happen, it's a slow build that manages to maintain the tension.  The thought I couldn't get out of my head while reading it was, "Man, does this author hate men!"  But apparently she was married to the same guy for 30 years or something so I guess it was just really good writing.  The tragedy of this, her first novel, is that Harrison died at age 65 before it was published.  I would really have liked to have read more from her.  Many people have compared The Silent Wife to Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl with Harrison's novel coming out on top. While I thoroughly enjoyed The Silent Wife, Gone Girl would get my vote.