Why won't this mosquito just die?...

I mean I have killed it a katrillion times. At least! Ugh, the nerve of these bugs. And just yesterday a cockroach totally thought it could chill in my basket of recycling. I was like, Uh-uh. No, sir. Not at this administrative assistant's desk you don't!

And I dumped that sucker in the recycling bin where he was promptly smashed by heavier objects. Because I don't take no pris'nahs! (Please ignore that double-negative. It is cancelled out by the thugness.)

And ALSO a large spider made it's entrance into our place of residence last night. Right before our very eyes! We were just lounging on our bed, minding our own business, when the hairy bugger crawled right through the crack in the door. Like a--- well, like a hairy spider, actually. Because is there anything more terrifying than a hairy spider?

Nope. Well, maybe a hairy man climbing through the door-crack. Yep, that's scarier.

Well, needless to say, I smashed him. With my bare hands. (NO! Not with my bare hands, because I'm not Rambo, okay? Just with a fly swatter at a safe distance with every intention of screaming and running away should anything abnormal occur. Like if the spider started growing or if he decided to go all kamikaze on me and dive-bomb my face).

Anyways, please don't think I'm a horrible human being. I promise I am not usually a hard-hearted killer of living things. And I said a little prayer for each bug's tiny bug soul (that's a lie). But we can't let the bugs win, can w?! I think not.

In other news: I found a baby on the beach for you!!!

{courtesy of TripAdvisor}

Okay, the baby wasn't actually a sloth. But I didn't get a picture of my beach-baby, so I went to find one that resembled that baby on the Google. And this is what it gave me. I love me some three-toed sloths. (I really do, ya know? I used to stick my quarters in all the "Save the Three-toed Sloth" collection boxes at the zoo.)

But I digress.

Back to the real beach baby: Clint and I went to Galveston on Memorial Day morning. It was lovely. Sun a-blazin', all lotioned up, big beach bag full of all the essentials, warm water... perfect. And along came this little family of cuteness. The dad was tall and black and very friendly. The mom was white and full of spunk. And their baby. OH! Their baby was the cutest little thing you ever did see. Chunky little legs, skin like a chocolate creamsicle right out of the freezer, big eyes with long lashes, and the curliest little mop of gorgeous black hair you ever did see. But the most impressive thing about this angel-baby was that those chunky legs could RUN!

I am not even kidding. That girl could get places. 

If she had been going any faster, that baby woulda been flying. Seriously.


The first time we saw her sprint down the beach after her mom, Clint and I just sat there dazed and amazed. Then Clint said something like "Dang," and I was like "Yeah." 

Then she did it again. And again. And again.


You'd think it would get old after a while, but ya know what... it really didn't.

What did you do for Memorial Day?

Happy Wednesday-- which feels like a Tuesday but is so much better than a Tuesday because it's one day closer to FRIDAY! 

***Addition: Last night we got home very late and quickly stumbled (well I stumbled because I had fallen asleep in the car and refused to let Clint carry me up the stairs; Clint walked---dignified as always) into the house to escape the moth hovering around our door. Apparently our efforts weren't quite enough. This morning (pardon my next bit of crassness) as I departed from the toilet, a large moth flew out from under the rim of the toilet bowl. And can I just say---AHHH! Gross. Gross. Gross. I spent the next few minutes waiting for that spastic moth to calm the heck down. The next few minutes were spent fishing the fly swatter from behind the washing machine. Then I had to find that moth AGAIN, because it apparently had had too much coffee to drink for breakfast and just could NOT sit still. Once I found it (in the recesses of Clint's towel while drying my hands!), I stalked my evil prey for another few minutes, cornered it in the medicine cabinet, then again in the shower--- where it was promptly smashed.

5 minutes later.

I hear some rustling from the trash can where I had disposed of the demon moth corpse. Lo and behold, there's that pesky dude climbing up the trash bag like vampire from it's tomb (because vampires are kinda in right now, right?). So I speedy-quick grabbed up my sword of plastic mesh and whacked the whole trash bag down, down, down. Then- being the feisty blonde that I am and really needing the remaining 5 minutes before leaving for work to be uninterrupted by bugs- I tied that bag up. The moth monster was howling at the bottom of the bag, but I wasn't taking any more of his crap, ya know? I tossed that bag outside.

And THAT, my friends, is the reason why I will be buying my lunch today and have no eyeliner on.

Thank you.