I’ve officially been back on Long Island since Sunday night and I could not be happier. Haven’t stopped smiling since then and I gotta tell ya, pretty sure my face is stuck that way and I’m too happy to complain about it. I’m too happy to complain about the fact that since I rearranged my room my cat’s urine odor has destroyed my sense of smell to the point where I’m unaffected by it. I’m too happy to complain about the fact that also while rearranging my room I messed up the sound hook up to my television and now only hear the background music. However, I am not too happy to complain about the goddamn mosquitoes!
Everyone failed to inform me of the serious mosquito problem Long Island is facing. I was outside for no longer than ten minutes and accumulated over 10 bites solely on my ankles since that was the only section of skin visible. And let’s be real, bites on the ankles are the worst. It’s not like on your arms where you look normal scratching or rubbing them to relieve the annoyance. You have to bend down, bring your leg back, squat, anything to stop the itching. Which, by the way, it’s pointless. Scratching only increases the irritation, leading to more scratching, more irritation, around and around in a circle until you want to just rip the skin off and call it a day. I wanted to do that last night when I had a random itch attack at 3:30am. Wtf? Did all the bites simultaneously decide to act up at once? That was fun. I love itch attacks that wake me up from a dead sleep. Don’t you? Here, let’s trade. I’ll get a good night’s sleep and I’ll give you the mosquito bites. It’ll be great, you’ll see!
Besides the aftermath of the bite, the worst part about the mosquito is that you never see it until it’s too late. I didn’t notice any insect sucking my precious blood the other night, otherwise they’d be dead and I’d be itch free. Bitches. How’d they get to be so damn sneaky? These demons with tiny little wings are destroying the best part of summer…the part I can partake in. And thanks to their stealthiness and numbing abilities I have to walk around with pink ankles covered in calamine lotion to prevent embarrassing itch attacks in public. Not sure if scratching the bites or painting my skin pink is more embarrassing, but so far no one has said anything. And quite frankly, I’m wearing the lotion proudly. I’d rather be comfortable and covered in medicine than irritated and uncomfortable. So there.
Other than the mosquito problem, I’m pretty happy.