Ticks

I would like to know who frightened the men in this world, so much so, that even the word "dance" results in locked knees, damp armpits, and that priceless look of terror/stubborn resolve, as the hands instantly clamp their seat like a vice-grip. --as if the chair is going somewhere.

Fear shmeer everyone. Weddings with dances should mean the men and women dance and be merry. It's a celebration! So you look a little silly-- does anybody really care?

On a different note- I picked off 7 ticks from my poor helpless skin- 2 of which I'm fairly certain were in my hair. EW. I can't even explain to you how nasty that is. Even as I sit here, I have a sneaking suspician there is a small regiment of ticks planning their next attack. They are probobly heading for my exposed toes. Shooot.
They befriended me on my walk with Rob and Trine through an open field. The grass is really tall now, so they (the girls) were hiding, and Sam and I were trying to track them. You'd think the girls rolling around in the meadow would be the easiest victims, but I suppose these things get some sort of twisted pleasure in challenging themselves. Somehow, the one bounding through the grass- (that ould be me) contracted a small colony, while Rob and Trine got off with one or two. Ticks are stupid- with claws of steel.

I am still disgusted. I feel like the kid in grade school that is singled out for having lice. How aweful was that. And everyone knew it was them, because they had to go home. The worst.

Anyways, the rest of the evening saw a brilliant red sky, a relaxing hang out with the girls- an effort to pin point where we will all be a year from now, and then a viscious scrub in the shower to rid myself of unwanted company.
Overall, life is pleasant.