Just Peachy
Brandon: What is that?
Wendy: It's friggin' creepy. That's what it is.
Brandon: I've never seen a bug like that in my life.
Wendy: Welcome to Georgia.
Update: According to whatsthatbug.com, this is a House Centipede.
Aight, I'm gonna go ahead and get out all my complaints about my new surroundings. This will be like a cleansing process. Take a deep breath. Hold it in. Okay, exhale.
It's humid. I mean, I knew it would be. I remembered it being that way. I even warned Brandon that the moment you walk outside, you feel the need to take another shower or two. But I forgot what it was really like. Sort of like the way women forget how badly childbirth hurts, enough so that they actually want to have another kid. I just repressed those memories and here we are, back in the sauna.
There are bugs, tons of them, and they are hungry. And apparently, my feet are a delicacy for ants and skeeters. I miss my flipflops.
The traffic in Atlanta is STUPID. Here's why. First off, the stoplights do not have sensors. They're timed. So traffic piles up. Second, there are no turning lanes. Which makes driving in the ATL more of an adventure. Think you've got the right lane? Nope, a car needs to make a left turn. Okay, switch lanes - dangit, there's a bus stopping! Okay, got past that. And now there's a flash thunderstorm and hey! The street's flooding. Let's hope it doesn't sweep away our economy car. Oh, and just try to find the name of a street. The sign is not only on the corner in small letters, but it's blocked by a tree.
Okay, I think I'm done complaining now. There's more for me to whine and moan about I'm sure, but I'm hot, because that's what it is here, hot, and so I'm going to go.
Wendy: It's friggin' creepy. That's what it is.
Brandon: I've never seen a bug like that in my life.
Wendy: Welcome to Georgia.
Update: According to whatsthatbug.com, this is a House Centipede.
Aight, I'm gonna go ahead and get out all my complaints about my new surroundings. This will be like a cleansing process. Take a deep breath. Hold it in. Okay, exhale.
It's humid. I mean, I knew it would be. I remembered it being that way. I even warned Brandon that the moment you walk outside, you feel the need to take another shower or two. But I forgot what it was really like. Sort of like the way women forget how badly childbirth hurts, enough so that they actually want to have another kid. I just repressed those memories and here we are, back in the sauna.
There are bugs, tons of them, and they are hungry. And apparently, my feet are a delicacy for ants and skeeters. I miss my flipflops.
The traffic in Atlanta is STUPID. Here's why. First off, the stoplights do not have sensors. They're timed. So traffic piles up. Second, there are no turning lanes. Which makes driving in the ATL more of an adventure. Think you've got the right lane? Nope, a car needs to make a left turn. Okay, switch lanes - dangit, there's a bus stopping! Okay, got past that. And now there's a flash thunderstorm and hey! The street's flooding. Let's hope it doesn't sweep away our economy car. Oh, and just try to find the name of a street. The sign is not only on the corner in small letters, but it's blocked by a tree.
Okay, I think I'm done complaining now. There's more for me to whine and moan about I'm sure, but I'm hot, because that's what it is here, hot, and so I'm going to go.
