creepy creepy crawly crawly

Late summer is one of the hardest things to get used to about San Diego. That's when the insects most often strike. Sometimes they come at other times of the year (please don't make me think about those enormous beetles we had earlier), but something definitely happens right around late July or August. The weird thing is that it's different insects each time; once it was these tiny little brown bugs, once it was silverfish (that was fun), and this year it's moths. Freaking moths. I can't explain it...I should talk to Andrew, find out if he's been enslaving the Israelites every year.

At this point I invite you to concoct your own segue, since I'm now going to talk about presidential debates. I have this thing I do, where I plan to watch the debates every election but always end up missing, like, all of them. This last one I missed the first part of, and was considering catching the rest of it, when I finally realized what was going on here. I don't like the debates. Seriously; it's not like I don't know whom I support by now (and if I didn't, I'd sooner look at their records than at their performance in such an artificial format). So if I were to watch it, I'd just stress and get frustrated and scrutinize every last detail in the hopes of anticipating which minutiae are going to shape the subsequent media discourse. Bleh.