I got stung by a jellyfish yesterday, and I've been giddy about it ever since. I keep saying it out loud: "I was stung by a jellyfish!" I can barely believe it. I've always loved jellyfish; I'm tickled that one tasted me, brushed up against my legs. It hurt like hell--like being stabbed with hundreds of tiny shards of glass on the inner flesh of my knees (I wonder if the jellyfish mistook my knees, those pale globes, for other jellyfish from a distance. When it came up to say hello, maybe it was shocked by the opacity of my skin, the hardness of my bones; maybe that's why it unleashed its venom.) I am waiting for my superpowers to kick in--maybe I'll become Jellyfish Girl now. My niece was stung, too; I think both of us will be floating around town soon, our tentacles undulating, our spines dissolving, our domed heads gleaming in the sun.