filed under stupid thing I did over the weekend:

maybe you don't know this, but I am addicted to using Q-tips. seriously addicted. I have been known to search for these little tools of pleasure in guest bathrooms. I am ashamed of this. But I am not deterred by my shame. one day, if I'm found in bed bath and beyond searching frantically through the little cubbies are their oddly shaped furniture for a plastic stick with cotton on the end, mumbling to myself, "I know they're in here. everyone has q-tips somewhere," you will know I have hit rock bottom. until then, I will continue on the journey.

well, this past week I was at my grandparents' beach house. all by my lonesome for the first time in years. usually when I am at the beach house so are 15 other people and it is well stocked with toiletries and toilet paper. this time, not so.

after about three days sans q-tips, I was getting desperate. I ventured into that sacred space, my grandparents' private bathroom. I reasoned, hey, they're not there. what would be the harm. and in one of the drawers I found an ancient first aid kit with, that's right, q-tips!!!! I hesitate to call them q-tips, though, because they lacked the fluffy cotton, the nice blue color and the sturdiness of the brand name cotton sticks (yes, q-tip company, feel free to send me boxes gratis any time you want!). but, as I said, I was desperate. I searched through the handful in the rusted out box and found a couple that looked, if not snow white, then not yellow-brown on the tips. and I proceed to insert one into my ear.

this is where the problems began. the q-tip twisted around a little too easily. it twisted all the way around like barishnikov doing a balanchine solo. I pulled the stick out of my ear and lo...the cotton did not come with it. that's right. the q-tip was so old that the cotton separated from the stick and stayed in my ear.

needless to say, I was freaking. out. I have a long and storied history with bad, really bad, and lengthy ear infections. not only was I concerned that I would not be able to swim in the ocean for the rest of my trip, I foresaw endless doctor's appointments with my ear doctor (he's great. we go waaay back). And guess what? I knew I would be leaving the country in about two weeks.

what did I do? well, I pulled out my tweezers. if you're squeamish, you may want to stop reading now. anyway, I squeezed my eyes shut and stuck the extremely sharp (for more accurate plucking) metal objects into my delicate ear canal, pushed them around, squeezed them when I thought I felt something soft and pulled. only to yelp in pain because I had grabbed some ear cilia by mistake. (we all have some ear hair, people. it's not like I have a hair coming out of my ears.) injured but determined I went in again, this time I heard the cotton move around in my ear when I touched it with the tweezer. I said a prayer, I pinched the tweezers and I pulled.

sigh. the cotton came out. and resolved to never use q-tips again. until the next day, of course.