Bug queen
Like a scene out of a movie, I stand outside and all the mosquitoes flock to me. Nothing has to be said or done. They just know they have to come to me. However, unlike in the movies, I do not get the fun-filled task of controlling them. They flock to the Queen of the mosquitoes for a mutiny. I don’t even know what I did wrong to deserve this dreadful mutiny.
I was standing outside this morning waiting for my chariot (i.e. the bus) and I couldn’t believe the amount of mosquitoes just looking for a patch of bare skin to have their breakfasts. I counted ten, but it definitely felt like more were buzzing around. To make matters worse, I probably looked like quite the fool flailing my arms around to get them off of me. They probably were cheering for my imaginary friend to win the fight; my technique was just not there.
Yes, the nice weather has only started, and I am not about to start complaining about it. I love the nice weather; I love that I will actually get some color and no longer will be a pasty white person. (Note that although I do not want to be pasty white, I also don’t want to be leathery brown. It would be a scary experience to look in the mirror and not know where my purse ends and my skin begins.)
Let’s get back to my kingdom. In this recent stretch of lovely weather, I have managed to enjoy the beauty of summer, and not enjoy the rest. Although to say I was covered in bites would be a slight exaggeration, I did seem to accumulate a lot in a short period of time. My once comfortable clothes are now not so conformable because they remind me I have itchy bug bites. My lovely summer sandals I was so looking forward to wear hurt me because they rub on the bites.
So if you see a girl standing by a bus stop in the morning flailing her arms around, she is not crazy. It’s just self-defense.
