There comes a time for every single woman when she realizes something: even though she is strong and independent, capable and happy to be makin' it on her own, living alone is, occasionally, not all it's cracked up to be. Miranda Hobbes bought her own apartment, choked on her takeout Chinese food, and had to give herself the Heimlich on a moving box. I had a similar moment tonight. But rather than choking, it was...the Sneak Attack of the Five-Inch Bug.
I went into the bathroom this evening and discovered, hanging from the ceiling like Spiderman, the biggest bug I have ever seen. (It was at least three inches long! Plus two-inch antennae! I am not exaggerating.) The kind of bug that you can't, say, squash under an 800-page issue of Vogue or step on with a shoe because it will a) crunch, and also probably b) ooze guts everywhere. Gnat guts I can handle. Fly guts. Even some spider guts. But not Five-Inch Bug guts.
My first thought was 'THIS is why people have boyfriends!!!!' To deal with creatures, obviously.
But then my common sense kicked in, and I gathered supplies: Collander. Broom. JCrew catalog. The plan was to use the broom to knock it off the ceiling into the bathtub, trap it under the collander--the big metal bowl would have been better for size and weight, but the holes in the collander would allow me to maintain a visual on the Five-Inch Bug, eliminating the chance of surprise escapes ( you know, in retrospect it's sad that I have this much experience with trapping bugs...but I learned a lot from the camel crickets in our house on River Road)--use the JCrew catalog for portability, and flush it down the toilet. The plan was foolproof!
Until the Five-Inch Bug, upon being successfully knocked into the bathtub, scurried into a hole in the bathtub and out of reach. (No need for alarm--the hole is supposed to be there. The bug is not.)
So I covered the hole with packing tape.
Anyway, it occurred to me, as I was thinking about boyfriends and roommates and how I should get myself one of those to deal with this kind of situation, that I had a roommate. And the division of labor was: "Allison deals with rodents. Hannah deals with bugs." (I am not afraid of bugs! Usually.) She sure as hell held up her end of that bargain (see: the Mouse Family Occupation of 2006), so I would have been on bug duty anyway.
But anyway, now I'm skittish and keep thinking that every dark spot--a stray blueberry in the kitchen sink, imaginary shadows on the wall, even the pine knot in my bookcase--is actually the Five-Inch Bug returning to eat me in my sleep.
UPDATE (Friday, 10:27am): IT CAME BACK! Not five minutes after I posted, the Five-Inch Bug returned! On my bedroom floor! (I don't even want to think about how it got from the hole in the bathtub to my room.) And then I spent 30 minutes--I am not exaggerating--chasing it around my apartment with a collander and a piece of cardboard, capturing it FOUR TIMES only to have it escape before I finally managed to flush him down the toilet.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Heard... (TV edition)
...on Ace of Cakes, upon discovering that the Scottish highland cow cake had fallen apart overnight
Duff: Yaktastrophe.
Duff: Yaktastrophe.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Tomorrow: spaghetti-o's!
It is possible that I had Chef Boyardee Dinosaurs and Meatballs for dinner tonight. In my Harry Potter bowl. I'm not saying I did. It just....could have happened. Theoretically.
And, theoretically, if I had had Chef Boyardee Dinosaurs and Meatballs (henceforth referred to as CBD&M) in my Harry Potter bowl, rather than, you know, real food, I would only feel a little bit guilty about it, since I did not actually spend money on them. They would have been a "gift," sort of, bestowed upon me by my beloved Jules upon her departure. (Thus! The CBD&M would have had sentimental value.)
Anyway. If I had eaten CBD&M for dinner--hypothetically, of course--I might feel a teensy bit like a five-year-old. But I can live with that. Because they probably would have been delicious.
And, theoretically, if I had had Chef Boyardee Dinosaurs and Meatballs (henceforth referred to as CBD&M) in my Harry Potter bowl, rather than, you know, real food, I would only feel a little bit guilty about it, since I did not actually spend money on them. They would have been a "gift," sort of, bestowed upon me by my beloved Jules upon her departure. (Thus! The CBD&M would have had sentimental value.)
Anyway. If I had eaten CBD&M for dinner--hypothetically, of course--I might feel a teensy bit like a five-year-old. But I can live with that. Because they probably would have been delicious.
Monday, June 9, 2008
"Ah, summer..."
"...what power you have to make us suffer and like it." ~Russell Baker
Yeah, except for the "like it" part.
I'm warning you now that there's probably going to be a theme throughout my posts this summer, and that theme is: "DUDE, it is HOT."
Every year, I dread the coming of the oppressive heat. But, every year, I am totally surprised by the ferocity of the heat and humidity (OH, THE HUMIDITY!) when they settle upon the city. I'm starting to compile a list of things I can't do during the summer months due to the heat:
1) Use my oven. This shouldn't be much of a hardship, since I use it infrequently anyway. But now that I can't use it? ALL I WANT TO DO IS MAKE BROWNIES.
2) Sleep in a normal position. I've taken to sleeping diagonally in my bed in order to be at the optimal fan/breeze contact angle.
3) Have normal-looking hair. Using the hairdryer only exacerbates the hotness, so I either have to a) not use it and let my hair air dry, which ain't pretty, or b) melt. Although, really, either way it ends up in a ponytail, so this is a moo point. ("It's like a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter." ~Joey Tribbiani)
Anyway. Time to do some work in my nice, air conditioned office.
Yeah, except for the "like it" part.
I'm warning you now that there's probably going to be a theme throughout my posts this summer, and that theme is: "DUDE, it is HOT."
Every year, I dread the coming of the oppressive heat. But, every year, I am totally surprised by the ferocity of the heat and humidity (OH, THE HUMIDITY!) when they settle upon the city. I'm starting to compile a list of things I can't do during the summer months due to the heat:
1) Use my oven. This shouldn't be much of a hardship, since I use it infrequently anyway. But now that I can't use it? ALL I WANT TO DO IS MAKE BROWNIES.
2) Sleep in a normal position. I've taken to sleeping diagonally in my bed in order to be at the optimal fan/breeze contact angle.
3) Have normal-looking hair. Using the hairdryer only exacerbates the hotness, so I either have to a) not use it and let my hair air dry, which ain't pretty, or b) melt. Although, really, either way it ends up in a ponytail, so this is a moo point. ("It's like a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter." ~Joey Tribbiani)
Anyway. Time to do some work in my nice, air conditioned office.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
One*
*(Number of days of 95+ degree heat that I made it through before I put the AC unit in.)
It is hot. Very, very hot. Jules texted me yesterday morning and said "M wanted me to tell you that DC is hotter than FL today! Don't melt. "I was all "Eh, my apartment doesn't get direct sunlight, I can get away with fans only." NOT SO MUCH.
It actually wasn't too bad, until I turned on the oven for dinner and it never cooled off. I spent the evening draped on the couch like a wet noodle. I can handle one hot day, but three months? No way. So this morning--after I went to the grocery store and remembered what air conditioning felt like--I put the AC in the window. Ah, sweet blissful coolness!
And then I turned on the TV at 11am, expecting to watch the last half of the French Open men's final, which started at 9. But! 'Twas the middle of the third set and Rafael Nadal was three points away from defeating Roger Federer. Which he did! In straight sets, 6-1, 6-3, 6-0! I cannot believe it. (I don't think the NBC people could either, since the broadcast was scheduled to go until 2pm, and it was over--ceremony and all--by noon.)
Anyway. I am staying inside with my air conditioning, a book, and the Olympic Trials.
It is hot. Very, very hot. Jules texted me yesterday morning and said "M wanted me to tell you that DC is hotter than FL today! Don't melt. "I was all "Eh, my apartment doesn't get direct sunlight, I can get away with fans only." NOT SO MUCH.
It actually wasn't too bad, until I turned on the oven for dinner and it never cooled off. I spent the evening draped on the couch like a wet noodle. I can handle one hot day, but three months? No way. So this morning--after I went to the grocery store and remembered what air conditioning felt like--I put the AC in the window. Ah, sweet blissful coolness!
And then I turned on the TV at 11am, expecting to watch the last half of the French Open men's final, which started at 9. But! 'Twas the middle of the third set and Rafael Nadal was three points away from defeating Roger Federer. Which he did! In straight sets, 6-1, 6-3, 6-0! I cannot believe it. (I don't think the NBC people could either, since the broadcast was scheduled to go until 2pm, and it was over--ceremony and all--by noon.)
Anyway. I am staying inside with my air conditioning, a book, and the Olympic Trials.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Meet me in St. Louis
(...I'm talkin' to you, Ash.)
Hot damn. It's booked! I am officially going to St. Louis for 4th of July weekend. The planets have aligned and the airline gods came to their senses, realized that $390 was an absurd price (ABSURD, I tell you!!) to pay for a ticket, and finally saw fit to show me the one website in all the universe that, suddenly, had flights for less than $200. WOO HOO. Thank you, Travelocity!
So I'm going. And I'm pumped. Also, tired and a little prone to overwrought language while blogging. So, I shall henceforth proceed even unto bed.
Next up: find reasonably priced flights to Chicago (after all, it is my kind of town) and Charleston, SC. I don't have a song reference for that one.
Hot damn. It's booked! I am officially going to St. Louis for 4th of July weekend. The planets have aligned and the airline gods came to their senses, realized that $390 was an absurd price (ABSURD, I tell you!!) to pay for a ticket, and finally saw fit to show me the one website in all the universe that, suddenly, had flights for less than $200. WOO HOO. Thank you, Travelocity!
So I'm going. And I'm pumped. Also, tired and a little prone to overwrought language while blogging. So, I shall henceforth proceed even unto bed.
Next up: find reasonably priced flights to Chicago (after all, it is my kind of town) and Charleston, SC. I don't have a song reference for that one.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
The best part about when your friends leave...
...is when they come back to visit.
Truly, few things are better than reuniting with an old friend, as I was reminded three times over the course of the month. Jay came to visit. B was in town for lunch last weekend. I saw my old camp buddy Michael in NYC.
But I am so not a fan of this "goodbye" thing. I mean, really. Even when you reunite, you have to part ways again.
I'm a little Eeyore-y tonight. Jules and Miguel are moving to Florida tomorrow, and I was helping them pack all day. (I did get a bunch of groceries out of the deal. But still.)
But anyway. 'Tis June! Finally. May was a busy, busy month, full of graduations, visits from people, visits to people, farewells, lots of work, etc. I am exhausted. And I'm trying to book flights to Chicago, St. Louis, and South Carolina for the summer and everything is a bazillion dollars. Damn you, gas prices!
Truly, few things are better than reuniting with an old friend, as I was reminded three times over the course of the month. Jay came to visit. B was in town for lunch last weekend. I saw my old camp buddy Michael in NYC.
But I am so not a fan of this "goodbye" thing. I mean, really. Even when you reunite, you have to part ways again.
I'm a little Eeyore-y tonight. Jules and Miguel are moving to Florida tomorrow, and I was helping them pack all day. (I did get a bunch of groceries out of the deal. But still.)
But anyway. 'Tis June! Finally. May was a busy, busy month, full of graduations, visits from people, visits to people, farewells, lots of work, etc. I am exhausted. And I'm trying to book flights to Chicago, St. Louis, and South Carolina for the summer and everything is a bazillion dollars. Damn you, gas prices!
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