Flower Diagram

I wore a red bowler hat Tuesday because I wanted to be flashy and stylish on the first day of classes. And I wore red shoes to match because I’m so … fashion-forward.  

It seems to be Satan’s first day as shown by the heat index, because it was incredibly sweat-inducing. 

I don’t own shorts, dresses or skirts, just two pairs of pants (one high-waisted and the other with a broken zipper) and about 15 shirts. All of which belong in Sarah Palin’s closet.

Needless to say, Tuesday’s flash flood warning was a Shea-sweat threat. I could have drowned my entire educational statistics class. 

Probably not. 

On to the hat. I’m lying on McKeldin Mall right, enjoying some pasta and the newspaper, when a young bee begins to buzz around me. His age was pretty obvious after I saw his black clipped bangs and Death Cab for Cutie T-shirt.  

And the kid is not letting up. I’m not afraid of bees, or anything that starts with “B,” really: bears, butchers, bag ladies, birch beer. But my friend is. She exclaimed “BEEAHHHHH” and ran around the tree we were under as if she was in a weird game of Duck Duck Goose that no one else was playing. In this case though, I guess I was the goose in the pot.

Eventually, I told her the bee wouldn’t sting her and she was all right. Finally, she sat down again.

BUT THIS BEE. 

I don’t know if I was accidentally humming/buzzing bee mating calls under my breath, but the bee would not let us be. e. 

Another ring around the rosie and my friend was tired of fearing for her life. We tried to figure out why it wanted to hover over me so badly. Conclusions were: 

1. Bees love spaghetti (I was eating spaghetti). 

2. This bee is actually the reincarnation of my long-lost secret admirer.

3. It thinks I’m a flower. 

My friend said the last one. It didn’t even register that was the exact reason until the bee came around my head once more. IT THINKS I’M NECTAR. Full of nectar-ius goodness, pollen and ovaries. 

All of which are true. So I thought about it.

Flower Diagram

I have the petal … to the metal.

And stamen-a. 

Filament. I like Chick-FIL-A and men… and the letter “T,” so that’s a part of me as well. 

Sepal is close to the word supple, and I’m “easy and fluent without stiffness and awkwardness.” 

There’s no stigma against being … the person … that I am. 

Style? Please. Is that even … 

When I hold a gun, I have a pistil. 

My ovaries have ovules. I think? I didn’t do well in sex ed. 

And my brain is a receptacle of knowledge. 

I’m a red flower. Case closed. 

It’s the first day of senior year, and I’ve already made a life realization: I’m a human flower. I welcome thee, fall 2014 semester. 

Or shall I say, I welcome bee.