I went on a really fun trip with Alex, Liz, and Liz's friend Bekah to do a photoshoot in this awesome old ghost town in Montana called Bannack, and there were many, many high points.
However, when we were at the actual town, we were surprised to find literally swarms of mosquitos out in broad daylight. Liz (the photographer) was freaking out and demanding we work quickly, but Bekah and I were in full costume and I couldn't care less at the time. We'd driven 12 hours, we'd curled hair and laced corsets... I wasn't going to let some stupid bugs ruin our trip.
I was the most nanchalant all day about the mosquitos. I remember distinctly saying the sentence, "So I get a few bug bites. I'll deal. At least we'll have great photos."
That being said, I have now come and actually looked myself over after a VERY itchy day of driving (I drove 6-7 hours today). I HAVE TEN MOSQUITO BITES.
7 on my legs. 2 on my left arm. AND ONE ON THE TOP OF MY HEAD.
I am not happy. I am now going to put hydrocortisone cream (which I just happened to have, thank goodness) on all of them and make Alex put it on the ones I can't reach. Lucky bastard, I think he only got one bite.
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