See, I'm one of those people you want to stand next to if you're outside in the evening anywhere there might be bugs flying around. They flock to me. I'm not pregnant and I don't have Type O blood - I'm just really sweet, as my mom used to tell me. Unfortunately, I also react really badly to bites.
As I've gotten older, I've gotten a bit better about managing my reaction to mosquito bites. My letters home from camp are full of tales of woe; I used to count the bites and list them along with dimensions and descriptions. (Here's a direct quote from one of the letters, dated 8/5/199?: "My right arm (from the elbow down) is almost the size of a football. It's awful. Well, I'll ttyl!") But sometimes... man, sometimes it gets bad. Like, wanting to cut off my whole [expletive] leg bad.
So I do whatever I can to minimize the chances that I'll come into contact with mosquitoes and other thirsty flying insects. I try to stay inside at dusk during the summer because it's when they're most active, and I douse myself with bug spray regardless of the time of day if I'm even thinking of venturing out. When Charlie and I go for a walk between 5 and 8pm, as we have to, I wear jeans and long-sleeved shirts - yes, even when the mercury is in the upper 80s. And every time I step out of the house, I carry an arsenal of cortisone- and DEET-infused goodies.
The problem is that late afternoon / early evening is a beautiful time during the summer. It's the prime opportunity for drinks on the waterfront, dinner on restaurant patios, and backyard barbecues. Charlie's walks aren't the only thing that lure me outside during the Death by Mosquito time. But if I do leave my apartment for an adventure, I make sure I'm as covered up as possible and sprayed to an inch of my life - and you'd better bet I keep all of these anti-bug and anti-itch products in my bag!
