Twilight Of The Cockroaches - Day 1
So I just moved. In case you didn't know this, hi, I just moved.
My apartment has the following amenities:
Sub-zero fridge
exposed brick
Functioning fireplace
Backyard with private patio, and shared access to landscaped area and pool
new appliances in general
dishwasher! Ooooohhhh! This is the one I am most excited about.
And, as you probably gathered from the title of this livejournal, nay, deathjournal posting, I also have a fucking cockroach infestation. Note I didn't say I have roaches. I have had roaches before. Twice, in fact. The first time, we just had these big roaches wandering in off the street thanks to a poorly fitting wood frame and garbage. They weren't egg layers. They weren't happy to be in our home. They'd come to that 3rd floor apartment on Eliot Street in Brooklyn to die. Normally they did, too. With a lot of screaming and smacking of brooms. I moved about two weeks after discovering them.
The second time was more serious. A spray or two, bi-monthly visits by the exterminator, and fresh traps, and one would be sighted on occasion, but the building was a dive full of lead, rats, and sighting a roach once a month was really not a critical concern. Unless it was one of those jumbo palmetto bugs. And the reason why *that* was a concern was because my roommate's cat would bat the damn thing around the apartment until it would decide that the only place left to die with dignity was somewhere in the shoerack.
I can hear what you're saying. Let me echo it. Not cool. I left that awful apartment after a year.
But this time is different. This time is special. Because my new place is awesome. It's really expensive, the people upstairs are wonderful and good-natured, the neighborhood is a real one, and this is an apartment I could live in for years and years and years. I moved in having been assured that I might see the occasional water bug, but that no vermin of the cockroachus disgustingus variety had ever been seen.
So of course, I spotted a baby my second day, but figured nothing of it. It can happen. Someone carries in an egg, which hatches, and a dazed, baby roach discovers a quick if somewhat alarming end underneath a gently placed paper towel and my smashing hand. But then I started seeing more. And then I went on vacation... and I left the garbage underneath the sink uncovered... and well, I don't know if that lead to the sudden increase in sightings, but I started seeing more of them. Just two or three a day, but it was clear that the babies were growing.
In the past, when faced with this, I have spent sleepless nights brushing my arms at the slightest feeling of movement, which is normally caused by either my imagination, my hair, or heaven forbid, another person. I have sprayed mercilessly, been angry, and moved on. But this time is weird. They're in one place. They're not moving from it. But there are a lot. I don't want to talk about how many there are. I suspect I have a full-blown nest in my kitchen. (And company coming for ten days on Friday!)
You know where it seems like it is? The damn dishwasher.
A few facts for you about the German Cockroach: it only grows to about 3/4s of an inch (phew), does not make that awful crunching noise when you squish it (double phew) and cannot fly (thank you, universe). It likes dark, damp places, and is mostly uninterested in your food, so it has nothing to do with the cleanliness of your kitchen and everything to do with a hidden leak you never knew about. Although it loves to eat the glue on labels, and hide underneath the labels on cans. Right? Once again, not cool. You know what else is not cool? German cockroaches produce faster in times of stress. That's right. When they smell bug spray, it puts them in the mood for love. And babies. Which is why there is always a population explosion about one week after spraying, because that's how long it takes for an oversexed cockroach stress-love baby egg to hatch.
Are you feeling the creepy crawlies moving on you yet?
This time, however, I am not willing to be cowed quite so easily. This time, I purchased a covered garbage can, several maglite flashlights for peering into dark places, two cans of raid, 24 combat traps, bug gel, and removed every piece of cardboard with glue on it, and ripped off all the labels on my cans. I also purchased caulk, and began sealing down the loose areas in my kitchen. I have stoppered up the kitchen sink, dropped a bug bomb in the dishwasher, and put everything even remotely edible in the fridge.
And last night, for the first time in the history of these little animals, I began the onslaught. I swept, I cleaned, I vacuumed... and then I I sprayed. Everywhere. On the cabinets. On the counters. On the baseboards. I taped over areas where I didn't have matching caulk. I replaced lights to shine brighter on my black countertops. And you'd better believe that I opened every single window and turned on every fan so that I too didn't lie down on my back, curl my legs up to my chest, and die.
Because let me make something very clear here: I just signed a one year long lease, and I intend to use that dishwasher as more than just a conversation piece.
Do-It-Yourself Insect Holocaust Journal
Adult cockroaches sighted: 8
Baby cockroaches sighted: 2
Cockroaches sighted that didn't die a horrible death: 0
My apartment has the following amenities:
Sub-zero fridge
exposed brick
Functioning fireplace
Backyard with private patio, and shared access to landscaped area and pool
new appliances in general
dishwasher! Ooooohhhh! This is the one I am most excited about.
And, as you probably gathered from the title of this livejournal, nay, deathjournal posting, I also have a fucking cockroach infestation. Note I didn't say I have roaches. I have had roaches before. Twice, in fact. The first time, we just had these big roaches wandering in off the street thanks to a poorly fitting wood frame and garbage. They weren't egg layers. They weren't happy to be in our home. They'd come to that 3rd floor apartment on Eliot Street in Brooklyn to die. Normally they did, too. With a lot of screaming and smacking of brooms. I moved about two weeks after discovering them.
The second time was more serious. A spray or two, bi-monthly visits by the exterminator, and fresh traps, and one would be sighted on occasion, but the building was a dive full of lead, rats, and sighting a roach once a month was really not a critical concern. Unless it was one of those jumbo palmetto bugs. And the reason why *that* was a concern was because my roommate's cat would bat the damn thing around the apartment until it would decide that the only place left to die with dignity was somewhere in the shoerack.
I can hear what you're saying. Let me echo it. Not cool. I left that awful apartment after a year.
But this time is different. This time is special. Because my new place is awesome. It's really expensive, the people upstairs are wonderful and good-natured, the neighborhood is a real one, and this is an apartment I could live in for years and years and years. I moved in having been assured that I might see the occasional water bug, but that no vermin of the cockroachus disgustingus variety had ever been seen.
So of course, I spotted a baby my second day, but figured nothing of it. It can happen. Someone carries in an egg, which hatches, and a dazed, baby roach discovers a quick if somewhat alarming end underneath a gently placed paper towel and my smashing hand. But then I started seeing more. And then I went on vacation... and I left the garbage underneath the sink uncovered... and well, I don't know if that lead to the sudden increase in sightings, but I started seeing more of them. Just two or three a day, but it was clear that the babies were growing.
In the past, when faced with this, I have spent sleepless nights brushing my arms at the slightest feeling of movement, which is normally caused by either my imagination, my hair, or heaven forbid, another person. I have sprayed mercilessly, been angry, and moved on. But this time is weird. They're in one place. They're not moving from it. But there are a lot. I don't want to talk about how many there are. I suspect I have a full-blown nest in my kitchen. (And company coming for ten days on Friday!)
You know where it seems like it is? The damn dishwasher.
A few facts for you about the German Cockroach: it only grows to about 3/4s of an inch (phew), does not make that awful crunching noise when you squish it (double phew) and cannot fly (thank you, universe). It likes dark, damp places, and is mostly uninterested in your food, so it has nothing to do with the cleanliness of your kitchen and everything to do with a hidden leak you never knew about. Although it loves to eat the glue on labels, and hide underneath the labels on cans. Right? Once again, not cool. You know what else is not cool? German cockroaches produce faster in times of stress. That's right. When they smell bug spray, it puts them in the mood for love. And babies. Which is why there is always a population explosion about one week after spraying, because that's how long it takes for an oversexed cockroach stress-love baby egg to hatch.
Are you feeling the creepy crawlies moving on you yet?
This time, however, I am not willing to be cowed quite so easily. This time, I purchased a covered garbage can, several maglite flashlights for peering into dark places, two cans of raid, 24 combat traps, bug gel, and removed every piece of cardboard with glue on it, and ripped off all the labels on my cans. I also purchased caulk, and began sealing down the loose areas in my kitchen. I have stoppered up the kitchen sink, dropped a bug bomb in the dishwasher, and put everything even remotely edible in the fridge.
And last night, for the first time in the history of these little animals, I began the onslaught. I swept, I cleaned, I vacuumed... and then I I sprayed. Everywhere. On the cabinets. On the counters. On the baseboards. I taped over areas where I didn't have matching caulk. I replaced lights to shine brighter on my black countertops. And you'd better believe that I opened every single window and turned on every fan so that I too didn't lie down on my back, curl my legs up to my chest, and die.
Because let me make something very clear here: I just signed a one year long lease, and I intend to use that dishwasher as more than just a conversation piece.
Do-It-Yourself Insect Holocaust Journal
Adult cockroaches sighted: 8
Baby cockroaches sighted: 2
Cockroaches sighted that didn't die a horrible death: 0