creepy doll lover

The dolls at my grandma's house stand completely still during the day.

We spent our last day in Elizabeth City chillaxing. I made a two page TO DO list that included secretly buying wine, helping Tris plant a hydrangea, catching bullfrogs, riding bikes to main street, window shopping the old timey storefronts, getting laid by a sailor, etc. ETC! But, the air is so ........ effing .........

HUMID!

This isn't even the deep South or a rainforest, and I still have to SWIM TO THE CAR. I sweat from standing still. Breathing makes me sweat. Adjusting my legs makes me sweat. And if I even fucking dare to make quick movements, my shirt is instantly soaking wet. Yesterday, my bra slipped off my tits because I was sweating so much and they were rubbing together, the cup just glided off my wet chest. This included a sweat mustache, stinky pits and my gross, stained cotton bra though.

Barf, ri? It's not me! It's the humidity!

I have no effing idea how anyone lives with humidity. I keep screaming (in my head) at the neighbors, "THIS MUGGY AIR IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE. HOW HAVE YOU CHOSEN TO LIVE HERE?" bla bla bla everyone's different; it takes all sorts of people to make a people quilt; let everyone agree to disagree. NO! No, I will not let everyone agree to disagree.

Humidity makes everyone's quality of life suck eggs.

Anyway, Albuquerque, I miss you! I miss your cool, breezes at night. I miss your chile. I miss dealing with direct sunlight 365 days of the year. I even miss the fucking nightmarish dark alleys where people have been murdered near Marc's house. It builds character. Humidity just builds a large pile of laundry. I've had to do laundry here five times more than I usually do in bone dry Burque.

So ... moving on ... I guess ... we all agree that humidity = worst, ri?

A lot of polymer books here. Tris was a polymer chemist. He and his research team made bullet-proof glass. Cool, huh?

Then we air-swam over to the farmer's market. The white farmer's market. There was a church keyboardist playing super cheesy songs about Jesus ass-banging him for salvation. Dumb lyrics, but pretty catchy tunes :)

Cotton!

Really, really white farmers' market. At least in Albuquerque you get olive, tan and brown skin farmers and customers. This was just like walking into Deliverance.

When boats dock in Elizabeth City, the Rose Men give them red roses and seduce them with Cavier until the Captains invite them on board for an all-night, all-male make out sesh.

I don't have wine or tequila so I entertain myself in other ways. It's a toss-up which activity is less healthy for me. On one hand, my liver and body are rapidly disintegrating from alcohol consumption, but then air-swimming around Elizabeth City's historical jails is giving me mosquito bites, skin cancer and stained sweat pits on my shirts.

This is my great great grand something. He died young, rich and ... fabulous! Is that an ascot? Isn't it funny/boring how wicker chairs have been in photoshoots since 1899 and then made a resurgence in the mid-90's for glamour shots?

Peter Rabbit soap!!!!!!

I used to practice making out with this monkey when I was five. Now he sits near my bed and stares at me while I sleep. Did my grandma place him there on purpose?! yikes.

Anyway.

It was our last day in Elizabeth City. Now we're moving to the beach house for a week. Damaging sun rays, come and get me!! I'll take a ton of pictures to show you how fun NC beach is.

Oh yea, and Nascar is a big thing out here. Uh, doye!