Eugene & Me: The Degradation of the Relationship between a Girl and her Parasite

This is Eugene.

He is a parasite...

...who lives in my stomach.

I'm not really sure from where he came. I know I got him in the Dominican Republic, but I'm not sure how. Usually, parasites like Eugene travel through water.

But I never drank water that didn't come from a bottle. I even used bottled water to brush my teeth, so that's not an option, either. Except the one time I accidentally stuck my toothbrush under the tap... but I washed it off, so that SHOULD have taken care of it.

In the beginning, my relationship with Eugene was a little...unhealthy.

So, I went to the doctor's office, and they told me all about Eugene, and that I could only eat clear liquids. Like Jello. And applesauce. And ginger ale. I was confused, as none of those things are clear. I was, naturally, also excited because a diet of jello, applesauce, and ginger ale is every five-year old's dream, and, let's face it, I possess the maturity of a five-year old.

I was also excited because I figured, hey, I'm going to lose some weight and look AWESOME.

Unfortunately, my excitement was short-lived. Jello is not enough to fill me up. At all. Neither is applesauce. Soon, all I could think about was food. Work was unbearable (more so than usual, if that's even possible). Home was unbearable. Sleeping was unbearable. LIVING was unbearable.

I. like. food.

Anyway, I realized that while I was starving, Eugene was getting fat on everything I was eating. I started cheating and eating other foods but it did nothing because Eugene ate it all.

I realized something very important. This relationship was not going to work. I was giving Eugene EVERYTHING, and he was giving me NOTHING. He was a terrible friend.

I decided to kill Eugene.

In about seven days, Eugene will be dead. You're invited to his funeral.

He will be missed.

The serious part:

While I was in the DR, a team of seven others and I partnered with a church there and went to batays (sugar plantations) to hand out food. But the problem is that the people we were lucky enough to meet there are often drinking unfiltered water--water that carries parasites. So even though we give them food (and that's only once a year!), they aren't getting very much nutrition from the food because many of them have parasites that take it all. Imagine having very little money to buy food, and then that money going to waste because the food doesn't nourish you.

We are trying to raise money to purchase water filters for the people of five different batays and some families in the church there who cannot afford them. If you are at all interested in helping out in any way, let me know.

I know I joked about the hunger, but it's serious. Parasites, no matter how cute I made them look in my pictures, are not cool.

I am not an artist

but...

Last fall, while in the crushing grips of finals week and the inevitable insanity writing a fifteen lesson unit on Macbeth causes, I was spending yet another long night in the library. Stress makes me... let's say... crazy, and I was channeling that craziness into drawing pictures to entertain my roommate Kathryn (who I call--in my head--"my Kathryn roommate" to distinguish her from "my Hannah roommate").

My pictures began with a post-it note series on the decline of my sanity and quickly progressed into little pictures of me slaughtering a pile of homework with a sword. As time went on, my drawings matured, resulting in the following self-portrait:

Note the crazy eyes.

The following is my Kathryn roommate:

I drew her this way because she is always bubbly and also rainbows are happy and so is she. She also has her very own blog here.

^ That's my Hannah roommate.

She's so nice that all of the forest animals love to just chill in her presence, kind of like Cinderella and Snow White.

So, now, I'd like to show you, in some beautifully talented drawings, some things that are important to me.

This is the hugging chair. It's supposed to be called a butterfly chair, but a) butterflies are creepy and b) chairs are not so... the hugging chair (also, the chair hugs you so tight you have trouble getting out, which makes you feel loved because it doesn't want to let you go.)

This is my new car, Gilbert. I love him. He has some issues, but I call it character. Much like the hugging chair, Gilbert doesn't like to let me go, and the driver seat belt has trouble letting go. He also doesn't like to be cold, so the A/C doesn't work. He likes loud music, so when you try to turn it down, the volume goes up instead.

This is a picture of me at my job. As you can tell, I love my job. It is very exciting, and I never get bored. (There's the sarcasm again.)

Above is a picture of me engaging in my favorite pasttime.

This is a picture of me hugging a cake because I love cake. I would sell my own Kathryn roommate for a piece of cake. (Just kidding, Kathryn)

Last but not least, I leave you with a picture of me popping up over a wall to say hello.

Goodbye!