What you can't see is the totally black sky behind me.
The boy's dad has a house right on the St. John's River, that I'm pretty sure he would rather be at all the time. Me? I appreciate this view in small doses. First of all, you can't swim in the river. I mean, you can, I just choose not because there are alligators EVERYWHERE, and I'm convinced they're all just waiting to take a chunk out of me. Joey, on the other had, thinks this place is her own little slice of heaven, and it even comes with a buddy.
That's neighbor dog Bailey. Joe spent the weekend swimming in the river and rolling in dirt with that little lady, while I stood on the bank, mega drunk, yelling at her to get out of there before something ate her.
Second, it's extra miserable out there during the summer because it's hotter than shit.
It gets down right miserable out there, and the only thing you can do about it is hunker down and switch from red wine to white wine.
Since the boy and I work completely opposite schedules and see each other a total of five minutes during the week, I usually try to put on my outdoorsy pants and head out there with him at least twice a month. I know, it's pretty selfless of me to brave the heat just to hang out with him. I don't know what he did to deserve me.
Anyways, if you live in Florida, you know that not only does the summer bring God awful temperatures, it also brings daily thunderstorms, and that nice little combination brings every mother lovin' mosquito in the country to Florida. And about 85% are apparently on a special Tina diet. I cover myself in bug spray all day long and still, I come home looking like somebody hit me with the Furnunculus Curse. (Know the reference or we can't be friends anymore.) See for yourself.
|And a nice little cut on my knee from running into a tree.|
That up there is the one of the few parts of me those little assholes attacked that I can show you without having to add a NSFW disclaimer. I'm pretty much dying over here. I've even recently read an article on why certain people attract more mosquitoes to make sure I wasn't basically wearing a 'kick me' sign on my back every time I'm out there. I don't know my blood type, like a grown up, I usually drink wine, not beer, my feet are always clean and I wear boots out there anyways, and I haven't been knocked up for the three straight years I've been frequenting that little area of the outdoors. Sure, I exercise a lot, but one out of those seven reasons seriously can't be enough to turn me into a buffet. What gives? At this rate, I can go ahead and write my obituary including West Nile Virus as cause of death and just add the year when those suckers (see what I did there?) finally do me in.
Pretty much the only reason I only go out there every other weekend, is because I need about two weeks to recover from the last feast de Tina. And my sweet sweet boyfriend likes to help by yelling at me to quit scratching when both my hands are obviously being occupied by something, anything else. I'm not scratching, ya jerk, I know better. He did suggest that I get something cold out of the freezer to put on my bites, which resulted in me eating seven popsicles and an ice cream sandwich. He was right, that did make me feel better.
Thankfully, since I spend basically every summer covered in mosquito bites, I stay pretty well stocked with Calamine Lotion. I am debating on drinking the stuff though. I figure it will either work faster or kill me. I'm game for either at this point.
Scratch n Sniff