Tag Archives: insects

New Orleans Diary: Week Five

30 Dec

Goal: To keep a weekly diary of my time here in New Orleans. This is Week 5! Which means I have been living here for over a month. And also it has been almost two whole months since I left Brooklyn which is pretty crazy. Hi, Brooklyn. Do ya miss me?

Waterbugs, Information: You may recall that last week I saw a waterbug in my bathroom and subsequently hid from the bug, also the bathroom, for a considerable amount of time following the sighting. Then the bug mysteriously disappeared. Dun dun duuuuuun. I then posted about the bug on my Facebook page at which point I received all kinds of comments. Some of them were full of concern, some were full of disgust and vomit emojis, and some were from people welcoming me to Life in the South. As a result of the post, I also received a few bits of information.

  • My friend Heather told me that New Orleans-style waterbugs fly at your face. AT YOUR FACE! Which, since my face is the face that is currently here, means that they will most certainly fly at my face which is not something I hope to experience. She told me to get the Raid in the silver can because it is full of chemicals and the shape of the nozzle allows for pretty good aim which means that you can, from a distance, spray that noxious shit and hopefully hit the attacking bug in mid (at my face) fly. That sounds like a really great idea until one remembers that time I accidentally maced myself in the face. I decided, as a result, to forego airborne chemical warfare and simply go for some traps.
  • My friend Rob told me that here in New Orleans they call these bugs “palmettos.” I am glad to know what they are called here so that when I tell people about The Bug and they think I am talking about silver fish (also ew!) I can use the appropriate regionalism to correct them so that we are all on the same disgusting, flying-at-my-face page.

Waterbugs, The Update: Following the initial sighting I was living if not a carefree life at least one seemingly free of waterbugs. That is until the day before yesterday! I walked into the kitchen to grab something when <BAM!> There it was! Sneaking around on the floor like the huge and disgusting flying hunk of roach that it is. Naturally, I screamed, ran into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed which clearly wouldn’t have helped me one bit if the bug had decided to fly at my face. Luckily for all involved it did not. I’m pretty sure it actually also screamed and retreated under the refrigerator. What to do?! I quickly mined my brain for information and remembered a story my friend Carrie had told me in which her basement apartment became ground zero of a short-lived waterbug infestation during a huge rainstorm and she lined the inside of her doors with duct tape. It worked! And so I snuck into the kitchen and, looking out for monsters (AKA waterbugs), I retrieved some gorilla duct tape – extra sticky! – and laid it out all around the refrigerator so that if the bug decided to try and sneak out it would get caught! Inhumane, I know, but it was the only way I would be able to sleep.

And then I waited. And slept. But also waited.

When I woke up in the morning I went into the kitchen to see if the bug had in fact gotten stuck. I discovered the most awful thing. Not only had the bug not gotten stuck, but it had used its brute strength to actually move the gorilla tape a good 3 inches away from the fridge and then somehow dislodge itself to live another day. It also left behind one leg on the tape. So gross.

In summation the waterbugs down here are like other fucking level. They are like terminators. Seriously if we could train waterbugs to do our bidding we could use them to fight wars. These fuckers are no joke. And this said by someone who now has a 5-legged waterbug wandering around her house, waiting for the next opportunity to fly at my face.

Clothing: I have lost all my pants. I was putting my clothes away yesterday and I can’t find them. I know I had them because I recently wore them but now they appear to be missing. Has anyone seen them?

Driving: But seriously, people cannot drive here. Or, well, they can’t drive in a different way from the ways in which people up North can’t drive. So here is the new thing I have noticed. You’ll be moving along at a steady clip with all of the other people except for the one guy who is driving 25mph above the speed limit and is, like everyone else, allergic to the use of blinkers. And then, as if from nowhere, there is the person driving 20 mph below the speed limit. I don’t think I have driven on a highway in Louisiana once without encountering this person. And he/she is always in the middle lane. ALWAYS. Which is an extra big problem here where the right lane oftentimes goes from lane to exit only lane and back again with basically no warning whatsoever. So it actually isn’t really a lane at all. But the slow person isn’t in the next lane over, oh no. The slow person is in the other middle lane. So this is what happens:

  • The right lane is oscillating between exit only lane, new cars merging in lane and regular right lane where slow drivers are supposed to live so they don’t bother the rest of us.
  • The middle right lane becomes this lane where no one really wants to be because you have to be aware of the constantly changing status of the right lane. That being said this would be the perfect lane for a slow driver because all the other drivers who are merging and exiting and generally confused by signage can easily move into the slow driver lane because the slow driver is, well, so slow.
  • The middle left lane is where the slow driver now lives for reasons that I am not entirely clear on. This messes up all the other lanes because now there is a serious slow-down in the middle left lane resulting in a lot of tailgating. People love to tailgate here.
  • The left lane is basically the only lane that operates under normal lane procedures from what I can tell. The slow driver generally doesn’t venture over there. Although there generally is someone in a mini-van using cruise control at exactly 8 miles over the speed limit which can be problematic.

The result of all of this is a complete and total free-for-all. Every lane is a passing lane. Every car is tailgating some other car which means that every car is simultaneously tailgating someone else while trying to lose its own tailgater. And then there is the asshole who drives like he/she is from New Jersey. You know the guy. Driving really fast, weaving in and out of traffic with no warning whatsoever, squeezing into teeny tiny spaces. This person is almost always in a busted up coup with tinted windows. This guy has watched Fast and Furious too many times. I don’t not like that guy.

Conclusion: That’s all I’ve got for right now. The New Year is fast approaching and everyone seems pretty pleased that 2016 is over since it gave us Tr*mp and pretty much killed everyone that we love. And I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but unless 2016 flexes its muscles yet again, we will be inaugurating Tr*mp on the 20th day of January. And then we are stuck with him for the next 4 years unless he gets impeached at which point we are stuck with Mike fucking Pence. So I am sorry to say that 2017 is not looking like it’s gonna be all that much better. But there will be more New Orleans diary entries so that’s something, right?

#DeadRoach

30 Jun

Because I have nothing of consequence to write about right now, and because my blog has been uncharacteristically silent, I am going to write a post about the other day when I found a dead roach.

A few days ago I was sitting in my room trying to figure out what to do with my day.  That has been my reality as of late.  I sort of wake up, sometimes I have plans, sometimes not so much, but it is always a matter of trying to busy myself in the mean time.  I usually figure I ought to do something productive – organize my books, clean my desk, send out some writing samples – but instead I always end up sitting at my desk, drinking coffee and watching gymnastics clips.  Just this evening I gave myself a little test and realized that I can look at the entire USA National Gymnastics Team, juniors and seniors, and identify all of them by name and many of them by name, gym and best apparatus.  It is not something I am proud of.  Anyway, that specific morning I decided that the best use of my time would be to unpack the suitcase that had been sitting on my floor from a weekend trip to my friend Debbie’s wedding.  I love Debbie and her wedding was great.  If I had a video of her reciting her vows I would be so happy.  It was like, the most love I have ever seen verbalized before in my life and it was really something beautiful.  (Congrats Debbie and Bobby!  Love you guys!)  Now that I am thinking about it, I didn’t decide that the best use of my time would be to unpack the suitcase.  I decided that I wanted this fun headband that my friend Emily had given to me a few weeks prior and I was pretty sure it was in the suitcase.  I was right but I didn’t figure that out until something terrible happened.  So I went over to the suitcase, I moved it, and

THERE WAS A DEAD ROACH UNDER IT!

It was so bad.  I hate roaches.  Honestly I don’t care if those fuckers are dead or alive they totally gross me out.  There was this one time when I was in India back in 2004 and my friend Michelle and I were traveling around Rajasthan together.  We were at a train station waiting for our ride to the next spot we were going to visit when we found out our train was incredibly delayed.  Not like, “this train is delayed because of train traffic ahead of us, and thank you for your patience,” but like legit 6 hours of waiting for a train.  There were lots of people there also waiting.  Also a really cute little calf wandering around eating all manner of things.  Michelle decided to go off and get us some chai and snacks and I was tasked with watching our bags.  Normally that would not be a problem except that right when Michelle walked away an army* of rat-sized roaches walked right over to where our things were.  They were the biggest roaches I have ever seen in my life.  Like, imagine the roaches that we have here, like, the water bug ones, and then make them something like 5 times the size and that’s the shit I was faced with.  It was horrible.  I had to pick up all of our things and try and relocate them slightly away from the roaches so they wouldn’t hide in our bags, eat the cashew nuts we had, build up their super powers, and then emerge from the bags at the fucking Taj Mahal and kill us all.  So incredibly gross.

So I had India-sized roaches flashbacks.  I was convinced that this sucker was just playing dead and that when I went to dispose of him he would come back to life, fly across the room and give me a fucking heart attack.  So I did what any normal person would do: I put the suitcase back on the roach, called my dad, texted with some friends, and started tweeting.  Nobody really reads my tweets but I tweet nonetheless.  Here is a look at what you are missing:

I then moved the suitcase again and

Then my brain started getting carried away and I got scared.

At this point I had tried calling my friend Ben once and my father two times.  Neither of them had answered.  I was in crisis mode.

As is custom, no one read any of these tweets so me like, putting out calls for help into the Twittersphere did absolutely nothing.  Then I texted my friend Emily and she said that I should probably get a broom and a dustpan.  Genius.  In my mind I had a picture of one of those broom and dustpan situations where you have the broom and it is a regular broom with the broom stick and everything but then you have the dustpan and it is not one of those ones where you have to bend down to use it, it also has a stick.  A dustpan stick.  And the stick makes it just as tall as the broom.  So I was really excited about this prospect because it meant that my face had to be no where near the roach.  The only thing is that I don’t have one of those dustpans with the sticks.  I have the normal one.  Fuck.  So I ended up moving the suitcase, averting my eyes, somehow brooming the dead roach (it didn’t move) onto the dustpan without bending down, then using my foot to angle the dustpan in such a way that the dead roach slid all the way to the back, then extending my arm as much as possible to lift the dustpan and then ever so slowly walking the dustpan with the dead roach over to the window with the open screen that I was really concerned my cats might fall out of and flinging the dead roach as far as possible.  I felt proud.  I still do, actually.  I have been telling everyone about it.

Anyway, so the roach is gone and my suitcase is still packed although I did find the headband thing and I wore it two days in a row. Thanks for listening.

#In truth there were only 3 roaches but if we use the fact that these roaches were 5 times the size of the dead roach on my floor, that means that there were really more like 15 roaches which is very intimidating.