skunk tales
Apr. 26th, 2005 11:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fearlesstempA fun fact about me: I am very paranoid about being smelly. When in the company of friends, I will often, and repeatedly, ask for reassurance that I am not olfactorily offensive. When I oversleep and can't wash my hair in the morning, I have been known to make people smell my hair.
Unlike many of my random worries, there is a good, concrete reason for this obsession!
When I was in middle school, probably around thirteen, my cat Molly got sprayed by a skunk. Now this is the surprising thing about skunk-sprayed animals, at least for my family: it is not immediately apparent that the stench has been laid. If, for example, you are letting the cat in at the end of the night, and head up to bed right afterwards, you might not immediately recognize the horrible fact. And if you fall asleep before the smell registers - or, if, for example, you're thirteen years old and asleep in bed already - you will get used to the horrid smell in your sleep.
You will oversleep and get dressed as usual. You will stumble sleepily toward the bus stop, wander sullenly to your locker, and meander toward first period class, chorus, where you are stationed in the back with all the other mediocre altos. Even after everyone around you starts asking each other, "Do you smell something?" and "What the hell is that?" and "Who farted?" - still you will think they're just imagining things, or overreacting to something.
When you turn to your friend and ask her to smell your shirt just in case (eleven years later you will still remember the shirt - off white, long-sleeved, baggy), you definitely don't expect her to visibly blanch and stifle her gag reflex before saying, "Oh, Jess. I think it's you."
NIGHTMARE. LIVING NIGHTMARE. I'm probably still Skunk Girl to some of the people I knew only in Middle School.
(Though I think some of my notoriety was lost a couple months later, when one of the sopranos vomited in the auditorium during rehearsal for the class concert.)
So I always worry about smelling.
About a half hour ago I was on my second long phone call of the night when I felt Dusty come up and snake around my legs. Aw, cuteness, I thought, and absently patted him on the head. Ten minutes later, I started wondering what on earth my father was making for himself as a late-evening snack. So heinously smelly.
A few minutes later, Dusty appeared again, looking up at me from the floor, all adorable big brown eyes and unbearable stench. "Oh my God, I have to go," I said to my friend, put down the phone, and snatched him up. I stuck my face in his torso region and ran for the living room, where my father was watching TV.
"DAD!" I said, holding Dusty out in front of me as if he were a live weapon.
"You know, I was about to say something," he said.
Dusty is now sequestered in the garage with food, drink, and litter. I have just finished running through the house with air freshener and am now at a loss. The smell has obviously infected our house and all of us and WHAT ARE WE TO DO? I have visions of showering, running out the door with wet hair, and rubbing dryer sheets all over my clothes while driving to school tomorrow.
Because yes, I have started my observation for school this week. And what am I observing? A middle school. Tomorrow I have to follow a student through his/her entire day. Reliving the most awful experience of the most awful period of my academic life - eighth grade as a skunk-smelly Jess.
More details as the situation develops.
I owe replies to comments and e-mails to people and I swear - SWEAR - I will get to them tomorrow. Hate me if you must. It is very likely justified.
Unlike many of my random worries, there is a good, concrete reason for this obsession!
When I was in middle school, probably around thirteen, my cat Molly got sprayed by a skunk. Now this is the surprising thing about skunk-sprayed animals, at least for my family: it is not immediately apparent that the stench has been laid. If, for example, you are letting the cat in at the end of the night, and head up to bed right afterwards, you might not immediately recognize the horrible fact. And if you fall asleep before the smell registers - or, if, for example, you're thirteen years old and asleep in bed already - you will get used to the horrid smell in your sleep.
You will oversleep and get dressed as usual. You will stumble sleepily toward the bus stop, wander sullenly to your locker, and meander toward first period class, chorus, where you are stationed in the back with all the other mediocre altos. Even after everyone around you starts asking each other, "Do you smell something?" and "What the hell is that?" and "Who farted?" - still you will think they're just imagining things, or overreacting to something.
When you turn to your friend and ask her to smell your shirt just in case (eleven years later you will still remember the shirt - off white, long-sleeved, baggy), you definitely don't expect her to visibly blanch and stifle her gag reflex before saying, "Oh, Jess. I think it's you."
NIGHTMARE. LIVING NIGHTMARE. I'm probably still Skunk Girl to some of the people I knew only in Middle School.
(Though I think some of my notoriety was lost a couple months later, when one of the sopranos vomited in the auditorium during rehearsal for the class concert.)
So I always worry about smelling.
About a half hour ago I was on my second long phone call of the night when I felt Dusty come up and snake around my legs. Aw, cuteness, I thought, and absently patted him on the head. Ten minutes later, I started wondering what on earth my father was making for himself as a late-evening snack. So heinously smelly.
A few minutes later, Dusty appeared again, looking up at me from the floor, all adorable big brown eyes and unbearable stench. "Oh my God, I have to go," I said to my friend, put down the phone, and snatched him up. I stuck my face in his torso region and ran for the living room, where my father was watching TV.
"DAD!" I said, holding Dusty out in front of me as if he were a live weapon.
"You know, I was about to say something," he said.
Dusty is now sequestered in the garage with food, drink, and litter. I have just finished running through the house with air freshener and am now at a loss. The smell has obviously infected our house and all of us and WHAT ARE WE TO DO? I have visions of showering, running out the door with wet hair, and rubbing dryer sheets all over my clothes while driving to school tomorrow.
Because yes, I have started my observation for school this week. And what am I observing? A middle school. Tomorrow I have to follow a student through his/her entire day. Reliving the most awful experience of the most awful period of my academic life - eighth grade as a skunk-smelly Jess.
More details as the situation develops.
I owe replies to comments and e-mails to people and I swear - SWEAR - I will get to them tomorrow. Hate me if you must. It is very likely justified.
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-27 03:41 am (UTC)Good luck! With the cat and the observation and not reliving bad middle school memories!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 08:07 pm (UTC)I went to the store and bought three bottles of tomato juice, but then read online that you're supposed to use some other concoction to get the oils in the skunk stink to break down (it invovled dish detergent, vinegar, and baking powder, among other things). We used it on the little guy and he was so brave and well-behaved through it - now we are all skunk stink free!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-27 04:56 am (UTC)1) Tomato juice bath. For Dusty AND yourself, just in case.
2) Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-27 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-27 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 01:41 am (UTC)We have two skunks in our backyard and fortunately, they're very nice skunks and have never sprayed me when I wander out in their domain. I've taken to calling them Black and White. White is the shy skunk and will bolt whenever he sees me. Black just blinks and stares at me like I'm going to do something interesting. When I just stare back at him, he turns around and does his business.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-29 03:15 am (UTC)Mythbusters used a solution of H202, baking soda, and dishwashing liquid which they found more effective than commercial skunk deodorizer.
Good luck!