Mexican Mosquito's

Must every vacation I take include a trip to the pharmacia?

As I have mentioned, my pre-move ritual included being in a foreign country COMPLETELY unavailable to my movers. Now….I can’t even tell you what part of Mexico this little haven is in [the part by the water?], but I CAN tell you that it is the freakin’ mosquito capital of the world.

I am the Dr. Doolittle of the mosquito kingdom. I attract those critters like I speak the language. After the first day of my vacation, the entire topography of my skin had changed from the sheer volume of mosquito bites. This Irish blood, untainted by the slightest hint of pigment, must be quite a delicacy down there. I am sure my bright white skin looked like a beacon on the hillside…a well-lit runway that the little bastards could alight upon. NOW I know why people invite me on trips…I can’t take my turn cooking dinner or even pack everything I need, but I am a human fly strip taking all the malaria bullets.

Which means I once again found myself in a drugstore of a country where they speak no English playing medicinal charades…hoping in the midst of the language barrier that I didn’t inadvertently ask for Rogaine instead of cortisone [it would explain why I have to shave my legs more often]. Should I worry if my anti-inflammatory says “Balco” on it?

But I CAN say that my xmas shopping is done…non-FDA-regulated “generic” z-packs for everyone!