I am normally a lover of living things, especially animals. I feel badly for the endangered species across the planet. I save spiders and am inwardly triumphant on behalf of the mice who seem to have outsmarted my landlord's attempt to rid my apartment of them.
There is one animal I cannot abide: the mosquito.
I know, they're part of nature, integral part of the food chain, blah blah blah.
Whatevs.
The reason I loathe mosquitoes is that they love me so.
If there is a mosquito within a ten mile radius of me, I am convinced it will find me and have a breakfast, lunch and dinner of blonde blood.
Case in point: I have bites from the last 48 hours in the following places.
Left pinky
Left middle finger
Right calf
Right wrist
Right thumb
Right elbow
Right arm near shoulder
Right rotator cuff.
Count 'em, folks. Eight mosquito bites. EIGHT.
I managed to get bitten in March (are any bugs even alive in Boston in March?)
I managed to get bitten while on anti-malarial pills in India (which are supposed to make you undetectable to these cheeky buggers.)
I get bitten in Boston. In an URBAN AREA. Yes, I expect bug bites in Newburyport or Beverly, where B's and my parents live respectively. I expect it in Old Lyme, CT (also the original home of Lyme Disease.) But Boston is a different story. I should be safe. I should not wake up in the middle of the night to ridiculously itchy pinkies and middle fingers and others.
Does anyone have any suggestions? (Other than bathing in DDT, which I hear isn't the best thing for my health.) Perhaps I should stop sweating. Or stop eating any sort of sugars. Or stop being out of doors at all, ever (not bloody likely).
Argh.
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