Whining and Dining

My inagural Spain blog post - halfway through my stay here, so, you know, timely - will be less glamorous than I had planned, as I am in the throes of hunting down an elusive mosquito. This f*cker. Pretty sure he - or some version of him - has been terrorizing me every night, whining in my ear, eating me alive. My blood is grenadine to his nightly top-off of other poor souls in this house, or something, I don't know. I just know the Pepto Bismol pink of Calamine lotion is not my color, and does nothing to enhance my tan, although it does highlight my joints. Seems this dude likes the especially thin-skinned areas of elbow and ankle. He's a lush. And I look like a blind nurse gave me a bright pink sponge bath, using her foot. I also just had the perfect opportunity to kill him dead. Not an ideal one, as he was on the ceiling, but I had the mighty chancla in hand. And then I still missed him by a good ten inches. There's a shoe print on the ceiling now. Which may help to explain the blind nurse Calamine lotion haphazard application. This could be a metaphorical moment for self-reflection, but I apparently can't see worth a damn.