This is my beautiful friend April.
She blogs over here about her life (now in NYC!).
And now over here about music and entertainment.
April was one of the super cool chicks who used to work at the ultra nostalgic, now deceased, music store Tower Records Anaheim. *tear* I have so many awesome memories of that place. And I never even worked there. Just look how cool it was:
Last July we had the chance to go back to Southern California for our first visit since we had moved away. During a little backyard gathering April sat down and told me her story of a bizarre occurrence that had happened a few weeks prior. It left me feeling totally shocked, amazed, and grossed out. If I hadn't heard the words out of her own mouth I may have not believed it.
And it is just TOO good not to share.
Have I raised the hype level high enough now?
Yard gathering. Back of April's head.
So read and enjoy. I'll be back tomorrow with my most bizarre happening.
WARNING: the following may be gag-inducing.
Months ago, when I was staying at my parent's house in Southern California and it was around 4 a.m., I began flopping back and forth in bed, like a fish out of water who couldn’t find comfort in the warmth of a blanket and a mattress (with a pillow top, nonetheless!).
I am a very sound sleeper, which means I make no sound when sleeping, I'll reiterate, I am a very no sound sleeper. So my high level of sound, in the form of uncomfortable grunts, while trying to sleep was alarming.
I started realizing more and more that the source of my discomfort was coming from my nostrils. Specifically my left nostril. My first thoughts were along the sinus related lines. I told myself to forget it and go back to sleep. Now my nostril was stinging. This was no ordinary sting, this was a face-changing sting.
I was now up.
My instinct was to put pressure on it. When I did the pain would stop. When I let go, the pain returned. And it returned angry. It became incredibly painful. My second instinct was to blow my nose and when I did this, small blood drops hit my tissue. I felt relief, as I had never had a bloody nose before. I thought, “This must be what a nose bleed feels like!”. Oh poor, naïve nose-bleed virgin.
My mom was now up.
This applied pressure, release of pressure, and nose-blowing went on for about 20 minutes. I even stuck a q-tip up there and used a small mirror to look up my nose but saw nothing.
My dad and sister were now up.
I stopped the panicked, chicken-with-its-head-cut-off routine and went into survival mode. As my mom suggested this was all the result of dryness, I remembered the oddness of a set of tweezers I’d seen earlier, they were lying on a side table in the living room. I grabbed the tweezers, returned to the bathroom, reached in without looking, squeezed and pulled.
A moth! I had just pulled out a moth. I had just pulled out a moth from my nose. Not a conveniently tiny moth, it was rather large (it should be noted that moths do not come in a desired nostril size) and at this point dead (recall the q-tip and applied pressure).
I tossed the tweezers in the sink when I’d realized what happened. The moth and the tweezers lay in the sink, I looked up at the mirror. The moth had apparently been serving as a cork and when I released it a thick, dark stream of blood ran down my face. It looked like an awfully cheesy horror film. I burst into tears, sounding like a child realizing Santa is actually his parents being tricky. I howled. The stinging I felt was the fluttering of the moth's wings. I was hysterical. But the good news was that I had won the war against my just revealed opponent: the moth.
I should, maybe, let you know that I don't have a huge nose. It's rather normal in size. Just in case you were thinking I was some sort of circus freak.
I still have phantom moth-in-nose-pains. I still, on occasion, pull the covers over all of the orifices on my head to protect from future nostril invaders.
One Moth-er of a Nose Bleed