My upper arms are driving me nuts with the itching. I have an allergy to sunblock, or the sun, or both. I'm not completely sure which, but it pretty much is guaranteed to occur when I try wearing sunblock and spend the day in the sun. Usually I don't bother with the sunblock — seriously, I live in San Francisco, and see the sun 10 days a year — but this last weekend I took the chance on a spray-on made for sensitive skin, and now I'm paying the price for it.
Itch. Itch itch. It doesn't even hurt. I think I would rather it did.
Aside from the itchy torment, it was an altogether too fun long Fourth-of-July weekend.
I visited the family in the South Bay and then went sailing with my Dad on Friday (which is when I did the sunblock thing - foolish me).
Fillmore Jazz Festival on Saturday, walking around and having good light conversations. Also having my usual "luck" with men, of course.
Sunday I drove up to the North Bay to meet my friend Elka's son and teach him to love his Auntie Eapa. (My sister's son is still cuter ... but this one is acceptably adorable.) I also strapped on roller skates for the first time in probably a decade, and have a bruise on my butt to show for it.
And to complete my weekend around the Bay, I headed over to Oakland for a mellow barbecue at Leonie and Gabe's house on the Fourth, and drove back into the city with Josh (who was also there) in time to see a few fireworks from the highway.
So the weekend was great, and busy.
Back into the work week ...
Today I feel like I'm just going through the motions. Doing things because I "ought" to, because I need something to take me away from other things.
Maybe I should just keep moving. I don't want to run away, but sometimes that just seems like the safest thing, the action that will keep me sane.