An Open Letter to the Mosquitoes who Find me Delicious

Mosquitoes, Gnats, Noseeums, et bloodsuckers all:

While I can appreciate the need to sustain your short and (albeit) relatively insignificant life by exchanging your irritating, itchy, venom for my hemoglobin; I'd like to point out that there are far more desirable parts for you to feast on than my right eyelid.

I am, of course, speaking here from a strictly parasitic point of view.

From my own point of view, which is somewhat limited due to the swelling of my right eyelid, I would appreciate you keeping your stings to more cosmetically appealing areas such as but not strictly limited to: ankles. Left preferably, as I scratch right handed.

Thank you very much.

Impromptu Intertaining

Perhaps you've heard me mentioning the little soiree I'm having tomorrow. It is, in fact, a barbecue. And yes, you've been reading right - it's at 7:30 am.
Unsure of how to spin the tale of how this came to be - I'll just say that the powers that be in the Media Machine have decreed that there should be barbecue footage and due to scheduling conflicts, I will be rotissing my first chicken early tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, and to the dismay of said Media Machine, none of our friends will be able to join us for an outdoor hullabaloo. At 7:30 in the morning. On a Thursday. Before work. Yeah.

Bravely, and alone, I set out to plan our "party" today.

First I should say that I have no idea how to use a rotisserie. Not to mention, this grill... it intimidates me. The lid? Just a guess, but I'm gonna say it weighs roughly 748 pounds. BUT, I managed to figure out how to light the whole thing and let it burn for a half hour like the delivery guys said. Step one. Check.

Step two, finding a recipe. The book that came with the grill only has a recipe for turkey. Strike. I looked on-line and found something seemingly easy. However, it did mention the not so smallish detail of tying up my bird.

I stuck my nose in The Joy of Cooking and followed the instructions for a "Simple Truss" and bondaged my chicken as best I could. However, based on a few different Law and Order episodes, I have a feeling my chicken will manage to strangle and somehow frame me before the day is done.


Now, perhaps because it's supposed to be obvious, but more likely it has something to do with the fact that there was no chicken recipe in that book (only mention of a turkey) there were no instructions on how to put poultry ON the rotisserie thingy.

I think my birdie is too small. Or my grill is too large. Far too large.

Regardless. My spices are prepared for the crack of dawn.

I bought a plant for the table.

And now that I'm home from Bed Bath and Beyond where I had to buy a turkey baster and meat thermometer, I've begun preparing some of the requisite barbecue side dishes and snacks. For... two? I guess?

My brow has barely unfurrowed all day... it's been just that confusing.

For Comfort's Sake

I'm pretty sure that of all the various bedroom accoutrements, the heating pad is one thing that could never, ever be considered sexy.

Mine, I must say, is especially splendid having been inherited by marriage thus making it 8 years old by default and assumingly 20 years older than that. The cover is pilled and horrible, but I'm afraid that if I wash it, it might simply disentegrate. Therefore, I put a pillowcase on my heating pad.

Picture the rediculousness for a moment. I mean, it's not like it fits.

So here I am, sinus pressure a rage - toting my heating pad from room to room like Linus with his blanket, cord trailing behind, and it occurs to me that at some point I have clearly given up many things fashionable for the sake of comfort. The other night, as I thought a wedge shaped pillow would really make things a lot more comfortable I realized that this was part of getting older.

I think looking at a persons bed can give you a glimpse into what decade of their life they are experiencing. Maybe not in actual years, but in mind set. I clearly remember my bed being covered in teddy bears and winnings from Riverside Amusement Park. Then, the body pillow. For a while, I needed to have all the decorative pillows that came with my bedset.

Now, I'm on to the wedge pillow. I put myself in my late 70's. Early 80's tops.