I'm currently determined to do a post a day. Except for Sundays. You know, the Sabbath and all.
I've killed three mosquitos today. I don't get this. I never encountered mosquitos when I was living in San Francisco, and so had reached the conclusion that mosquitos don't live in cities. I also made the assumption that mosquitos don't like cool climates. And yet here I am, in a city not known for its warmth, and here they are. Are they breeding in all of those lush English gardens?
I'm not complaining, though. I am about to head off to Oklahoma soon, to visit the fam and apply for that there student visa, and then I will encounter mosquitos to be reckoned with. In Oklahoma, mosquitos outnumber humans three hundred to one, and come in two different sizes: one is so tiny that it's invisible and you find yourself swatting at your legs and arms in a state of high paranoia while seeing nothing there. The second type of mosquito is as big as your head, and drones like a warplane as it zooms in for the kill. This one, when successfully nailed, will leave its smeared, blood-filled carcass all over your arm, leaving you with both a sense of triumph and nausea. In the brief sprints between house and car and store--the only times you will be outside in the summer heat--you are likely to be bitten at least twenty times. If you dare to sit outside in the warm twilight of a quiet evening, surrounded by citronella candles (an activity you would think would be peaceful and calming), you will be spending the entire time swatting maniacally at the air in a state of increasing anxiety, while the humidity gives you a sticky sheen of sweat to act as mosquito bait. And no matter how wildly you bat your hands, and how many you manage to clap and kill, they WILL break through your defenses and you WILL end up looking like a leper. So today's mosquito situation could--and will--be worse, very, very soon. My three bites will be morphing into three thousand, and I will reek of the greasy repellant I'll be coating myself with eighteen times a day.
Even with the blood I will be losing when I get there, I'm starting to get excited. I can't wait to hit Sonic, Arby's, Braum's, IHOP, and the Cracker Barrel. I can't wait for Gramma's biscuits and gravy, Auntie Sharon's scrambled eggs, and my mom's enchiladas. I'm going to eat Pillsbury cinnamon rolls until I implode. I'm going to drink red kool-aid until the corners of my mouth turn pink, then switch to sweet sun tea. I'm going to get wired up on sugar, then sweat it out, then wonder why the mosquitos are seeking me like missiles. I'm going to get dressed in my Sunday Best for church, and suck in my stomach when I greet people I haven't seen in years, and then head back to Gramma and Grampa's for a giant sunday roast and a doze in front of the t.v., where a Nascar race will be competing with Matlock for my Grampa's attention.
It's going to be GREAT.
I've killed three mosquitos today. I don't get this. I never encountered mosquitos when I was living in San Francisco, and so had reached the conclusion that mosquitos don't live in cities. I also made the assumption that mosquitos don't like cool climates. And yet here I am, in a city not known for its warmth, and here they are. Are they breeding in all of those lush English gardens?
I'm not complaining, though. I am about to head off to Oklahoma soon, to visit the fam and apply for that there student visa, and then I will encounter mosquitos to be reckoned with. In Oklahoma, mosquitos outnumber humans three hundred to one, and come in two different sizes: one is so tiny that it's invisible and you find yourself swatting at your legs and arms in a state of high paranoia while seeing nothing there. The second type of mosquito is as big as your head, and drones like a warplane as it zooms in for the kill. This one, when successfully nailed, will leave its smeared, blood-filled carcass all over your arm, leaving you with both a sense of triumph and nausea. In the brief sprints between house and car and store--the only times you will be outside in the summer heat--you are likely to be bitten at least twenty times. If you dare to sit outside in the warm twilight of a quiet evening, surrounded by citronella candles (an activity you would think would be peaceful and calming), you will be spending the entire time swatting maniacally at the air in a state of increasing anxiety, while the humidity gives you a sticky sheen of sweat to act as mosquito bait. And no matter how wildly you bat your hands, and how many you manage to clap and kill, they WILL break through your defenses and you WILL end up looking like a leper. So today's mosquito situation could--and will--be worse, very, very soon. My three bites will be morphing into three thousand, and I will reek of the greasy repellant I'll be coating myself with eighteen times a day.
Even with the blood I will be losing when I get there, I'm starting to get excited. I can't wait to hit Sonic, Arby's, Braum's, IHOP, and the Cracker Barrel. I can't wait for Gramma's biscuits and gravy, Auntie Sharon's scrambled eggs, and my mom's enchiladas. I'm going to eat Pillsbury cinnamon rolls until I implode. I'm going to drink red kool-aid until the corners of my mouth turn pink, then switch to sweet sun tea. I'm going to get wired up on sugar, then sweat it out, then wonder why the mosquitos are seeking me like missiles. I'm going to get dressed in my Sunday Best for church, and suck in my stomach when I greet people I haven't seen in years, and then head back to Gramma and Grampa's for a giant sunday roast and a doze in front of the t.v., where a Nascar race will be competing with Matlock for my Grampa's attention.
It's going to be GREAT.
4 comments:
You just described summer in Wisconsin. I don't sit on my deck because of those very blood-sucking vampires, err, mosquitoes.
Hope you have a fun time in OK - and get your fill of American things.... don't forget to buy some Cinnamint lip glosses. You've got ME hooked on them. sooo good.
Excuse me but we now have a very nice non-Greasy mosquito repellent that works very nicely! Trust me, I do what I can to keep my girls and myself bite-free cause they LOVE us! And the feeling is so NOT mutual!
Aah! the glories of an Oklahoma summer!
oh, the tricks those memories play on our minds...thinking being home will be fun and all...what kind of craziness is that????
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