The new mosquito delight - my O+ eyelids

Occassionally some nordic, moisture-hating version of a mosquito travels into the habitat of my dry-aired apartment and calls it home. I don't discover the mosquito until it annoyingly announces itself about 5 minutes before my REM sleep. Then I begin the frustrating contortion act of trying to be comfortable and able to breathe while hiding 100% of my body underneath the covers for protection.

It's not an easy task. The problem is that by being under the covers you can no longer hear the blood-sucker approaching and finding that one damned spot you left vulnerable. An elbow. A pinky toe. Your forehead.

Sometimes I wonder why mosquitos make the noise they make: after all, it warns us to duck and cover. Then I think maybe other species don't hear the mosquito and the sound we hear is a warning system set-up in the human body. I wonder if mosquitos and other blood suckers prefer a certain blood type, say for example mine, which is O+, since I always seem to be bothered the most. And then I wander off to sleep with only my airways poking out of a sea of bedcovers.

For the third consecutive time, I have awakened to discover that the mosquito has bitten me on the EYELID. Let me tell you this is the most annoying place to have an itch, and the resulting swelling not only makes me look like a descendent of the Elephant Man but also lays pressure on the eye, which makes me feel sleepy all day. I am now going out to buy straws, so I can cover my entire head for the next round.

If You Can

If you can, go out tonight. Go out where there is the whisper of wind between the Eucalyptus trees and under the shadowy light of the pale crickety moon. Breathe in the cool valley air that tumbles between the sea and the bay and really, really breathe it in. My God! That, my friends, is why we are here. Why we are one. Why we are here! OK, so I'm a little with nature, and a little on the left, and I am a litle tipsy, but being home is why. We. Are. Here. So Be home. Cheers.

Where's Gertie?

Holy cow. I cannot believe how long it has been since I've been here, and how little I have to say about it. Truly, I don't know how I cannot be writing this stuff down that happens to me. Then again, as I think back at least a week, nothing seems notable. Hmrph. So let me do a quick check-in:

Work. Nothing special. Oh wait! Right. New sale closes the 16th of June. Woo hoo!

Running. What's running? Oh wait! I just ran a 12k! That's right, the Bay to Breakers, that crazy crazy only-in-SF race. I ran with 3 girls, one of which was a bit out of shape, so it was pretty easy. Then I took a nap.

Dating. What's dating? Oh wait! I have a date! Oh my God! I have a date! I have a date! Crap; what the hell am I going to wear?

And that's a wrap. Sorry it's not very exciting.

A New Kind of Sign Language ~ This Time for Love ~

Granted, I'm a girl who rarely dates and I'm still rather clueless in the department, but I think all my dating problems have finally been solved!

Enter The Bar Code. Apparantly, a discernable sign language allowing you to talk to strangers, when your eyes or your body, or probably nervousness in my case, won't allow. A new language, so to speak, for when all esle fails.

I can't but think this phenomenon will spread like the "Cougars," but will it ultimately pan out as a form of communication other than "can I get in your pants?" I'm wondering if the most popular sign will ultimately translate to be The Number One French phrase known by non-French speakers: Woulez-vous couchez avec moi?