teaching my children about the horrible joy of scratching mosquito bites until they almost bleed has been a perverse pleasure of mine this past week. welcome to massachusetts, kids. get out your hairbrush if it's a truly bad one. (this morning on my run i felt a strange sensation on my arm, only to look down 10 seconds later and see a huge skeeter drinking way too much of my blood. when i slapped him i looked like i had cut myself.)
i don't know what it is about new england radio stations and the dave matthews band, but i am going to use this blog to finally admit and stand by the fact that I. Don't. Like. That. Band. its overrated and sappy and bad. go ahead, tell me i'm wrong. if i hear that stupid violin opening to that dumbass song one more time as i'm scanning stations i'm going to lose it.
my accent is back in full force. being around all of my relatives during my pa's funeral just cemented it for me. somehow, i like the sound of my voice better when i'm here, and my r's get all lazy and soft.
playing mini-golf with my son was the highlight of my day. sadly, it seems that was not the case for him. afterwards he told me he'd rather we stayed home, cause it wasn't fair we just played one time through. i am struggling with this new demonic child who has taken over my sweet boy.
maybe he was just mad i got two hole-in-ones.
the clouds were so beautiful today.
but i miss my california family.
i'm melancholy, desperate, worried, exhausted, and at peace, all at the same time. how can one girl keep herself together in this situation?
not sure. doing it anyway.
dichotomy is our true nature. keep on keeping on. i hate dave matthews and mini golf.
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