We are not amused
Also titled: I hate New York.
Ok, I don't hate New York. Not really. I just despise cockroaches with the firey passion of a thousand suns. And I have come to find that they are a big part of NY. I have had my run-ins before...don't get me wrong. And I have sprayed the suckers to death with bug spray, and trapped them under tupperware containers (a technique developed by Steph and Andrea). But until tonight my battles have been fought in the kitchen, under a great deal of stress. I knew that Andrea had had one on her bed last year, and that always freaked me out a bit. But I kept telling myself that the odds were so small that I couldn't let that knowledge keep me from sleeping in my own bed at night. Until now.
There I was, sitting in my bed, preparing to go to sleep. I was leaning against the wall, and everytime I do that I wonder if I will be the victim of a cockroach attack, and then tell myself I am just being silly. HA! So tonight I'm sitting there, reading the Scrubs fan board, and I'm strongly considering going to sleep. Nah, I think, just a couple more pics of Jason Thomspon and I'll call it a night. So then I hear a small thud, and see out of the corner of my eye an object falling from the wall about three inches from my head. Yes I screamed. And I junmped up and stood on my bed for about 5 minutes working up the nerve to check out the corner by my bed. Maybe it's dead, I think to myself. Maybe that is why it fell. Ohhh no. There I am, standing on my bed much like my mother stands on a chair when she sees a mouse, and I see the cockroach in question dart out and run across the floor, OVER my Coach purse that was sitting next to my bed (the BASTARD) and into my closet. More screaming ensued. Maybe I'll shut it in the closet, I think, as I watch it scale my purple sun dress. But I am not fast enough and it is out again. I dumped out my pencil cup and prepared for attack. I launched myself at it about 5 times, but each time it was too fast. I was too hesitant to approach with the necessary speed, and the cup I was using was small so it was not a big area with which to trap it. Finally I jump off my bed and run into the kitchen to grab a tupperware, then dart back into my room and jump onto my bed once more. I stand there for a few minutes until finally it emerges. I miss again and it runs back into my closet. This time I do shut it in, and promptly jump back onto my bed, thinking to myself, yes I will not be able to wear any of the clothes in my closet tomorrow, but at least it is contained. And yes, Steph will make fun of me, but I will ask Andrew to come over tomorrow and ask him to search my closet and kill it. But not even my closet door can stand against the cockroach of doom, and I see it running across my floor again. Ok, that's IT, I tell myself, and go in for the attack. Again, I miss and it disappears. So there I stand, staring at the floor of my room, waiting for it to come out again, when HELLO, it is ON MY BED about an inch from my toes. Oh yes, there was more screaming at this point. I try to trap it with the tupperware and succeed, but the mattress is too soft and it manages to wriggle free. It darts off the bed and disappears again. Now I am pissed. Oh it's ON! I begin to call it obscenities to lure it out. Finally it makes it's appearance once more and I dart at it like a cat pouncing. TRAPPED!!! I immediately grab my dictionary and put it on top of the tupperware, and follow that up with about five more books. You know, just to make SURE. I can hear it scrambling around and SQUEAKING. UGH. I take a few minutes to calm my heart, go outside and have a cigarette (I've been cutting back but I really needed one), and then come back inside and write an email apology to Steph in case I woke her up with my screaming. And to explain why she will find me on the couch in the morning. If I can sleep at all. She told me that most of the time when she sees them they are near death because we do have an exterminater who comes once a month, but this one was very much alive and kicking, and is now PISSED. Ha. Good. Fucker. Making sure it is dead and getting it out of my room is step two, but I am not prepared for that tonight. I will cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, Liz: 1, cockroach: 0. I swear that thing was fucking with me. Bastard. Ok, I am now camped out on the couch (which I have pulled away from the wall) but I don't know if I will be sleeping any time soon. Who knows when I will be sleeping in my bed again. This makes me even more excited to go away for the summer. Yes, there will be mosquitos, and possibly spiders (which I also hate) but hopefully the Berkshires will be cockroach free. Fingers crossed. Hope everyone else is having a much less eventfull night.
Phew.
PS, I am editing this to add that pretty much everyone who knows me knows that my #1 writing pet peeve is people who change tenses. And I did that several times during this entry. I don't want to be a hypocrit, so I apologize about this. My thought process is not so collected at the moment.
Ok, I don't hate New York. Not really. I just despise cockroaches with the firey passion of a thousand suns. And I have come to find that they are a big part of NY. I have had my run-ins before...don't get me wrong. And I have sprayed the suckers to death with bug spray, and trapped them under tupperware containers (a technique developed by Steph and Andrea). But until tonight my battles have been fought in the kitchen, under a great deal of stress. I knew that Andrea had had one on her bed last year, and that always freaked me out a bit. But I kept telling myself that the odds were so small that I couldn't let that knowledge keep me from sleeping in my own bed at night. Until now.
There I was, sitting in my bed, preparing to go to sleep. I was leaning against the wall, and everytime I do that I wonder if I will be the victim of a cockroach attack, and then tell myself I am just being silly. HA! So tonight I'm sitting there, reading the Scrubs fan board, and I'm strongly considering going to sleep. Nah, I think, just a couple more pics of Jason Thomspon and I'll call it a night. So then I hear a small thud, and see out of the corner of my eye an object falling from the wall about three inches from my head. Yes I screamed. And I junmped up and stood on my bed for about 5 minutes working up the nerve to check out the corner by my bed. Maybe it's dead, I think to myself. Maybe that is why it fell. Ohhh no. There I am, standing on my bed much like my mother stands on a chair when she sees a mouse, and I see the cockroach in question dart out and run across the floor, OVER my Coach purse that was sitting next to my bed (the BASTARD) and into my closet. More screaming ensued. Maybe I'll shut it in the closet, I think, as I watch it scale my purple sun dress. But I am not fast enough and it is out again. I dumped out my pencil cup and prepared for attack. I launched myself at it about 5 times, but each time it was too fast. I was too hesitant to approach with the necessary speed, and the cup I was using was small so it was not a big area with which to trap it. Finally I jump off my bed and run into the kitchen to grab a tupperware, then dart back into my room and jump onto my bed once more. I stand there for a few minutes until finally it emerges. I miss again and it runs back into my closet. This time I do shut it in, and promptly jump back onto my bed, thinking to myself, yes I will not be able to wear any of the clothes in my closet tomorrow, but at least it is contained. And yes, Steph will make fun of me, but I will ask Andrew to come over tomorrow and ask him to search my closet and kill it. But not even my closet door can stand against the cockroach of doom, and I see it running across my floor again. Ok, that's IT, I tell myself, and go in for the attack. Again, I miss and it disappears. So there I stand, staring at the floor of my room, waiting for it to come out again, when HELLO, it is ON MY BED about an inch from my toes. Oh yes, there was more screaming at this point. I try to trap it with the tupperware and succeed, but the mattress is too soft and it manages to wriggle free. It darts off the bed and disappears again. Now I am pissed. Oh it's ON! I begin to call it obscenities to lure it out. Finally it makes it's appearance once more and I dart at it like a cat pouncing. TRAPPED!!! I immediately grab my dictionary and put it on top of the tupperware, and follow that up with about five more books. You know, just to make SURE. I can hear it scrambling around and SQUEAKING. UGH. I take a few minutes to calm my heart, go outside and have a cigarette (I've been cutting back but I really needed one), and then come back inside and write an email apology to Steph in case I woke her up with my screaming. And to explain why she will find me on the couch in the morning. If I can sleep at all. She told me that most of the time when she sees them they are near death because we do have an exterminater who comes once a month, but this one was very much alive and kicking, and is now PISSED. Ha. Good. Fucker. Making sure it is dead and getting it out of my room is step two, but I am not prepared for that tonight. I will cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, Liz: 1, cockroach: 0. I swear that thing was fucking with me. Bastard. Ok, I am now camped out on the couch (which I have pulled away from the wall) but I don't know if I will be sleeping any time soon. Who knows when I will be sleeping in my bed again. This makes me even more excited to go away for the summer. Yes, there will be mosquitos, and possibly spiders (which I also hate) but hopefully the Berkshires will be cockroach free. Fingers crossed. Hope everyone else is having a much less eventfull night.
Phew.
PS, I am editing this to add that pretty much everyone who knows me knows that my #1 writing pet peeve is people who change tenses. And I did that several times during this entry. I don't want to be a hypocrit, so I apologize about this. My thought process is not so collected at the moment.