round and round...

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Go to the damn tea party and vacate my premises.


I sat on my bed a couple hours ago recuperating from yet another invasive procedure (and sadly not the last) that involved laxatives and a long, long tube and was disturbed, not by my unending gas pains, the general rumbling of my guts, the grogginess of the anesthesia, but by a small, dark thing moving along my peripheral field of vision somewhere near my door. This small, dark thing was a mouse. A freaking mouse... in my bedroom.

Now, I knew darn well that we had mice in the apartment. This was not happy knowledge. Cute or not, rodents are rodents. I don't even dig on squirrels - rats w/better PR. Mice? Totally not my thing. I saw a dead one about a month ago and my roommate saw three last week - all alive mind you. However, since the exterminator came on Saturday (whom my landlord refers to in a thick Jamaican accent with no intended humor as "the terminator") and supposedly eradicated the vermin, I figured I wouldn't be seeing any mice in my bedroom today. Normally I'm a pretty tough chick. I mean, I like pink and dresses are cool, but I'm not an uber girly girl.

That said, nothing sends me into squealing chick mode like rodents. Well, rodents or roaches. Both of which we have. It's so disgusting. I've been voluntarily marooned on my bed for the last 2 hours with the exception of a quick trip to the bathroom, natch. I know I'm bigger then he is. I know he can't hurt me. I know all of the reality, but I still don't want to see that mouse. Nu uh. No thanks. I'm moving in 2 weeks and it is a good thing. It's also a good thing because there was a shooting on my block yesterday. A 15 yr old kid took a bullet to the head. Yep. Makes my mouse drama ridiculous.

I'm braving it. I'm headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. If I don't post again soon send a search party. I'm one of the only white women in Flatbush. You'll find me.

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11 What people are saying:

Blogger Jenn rambles...

Drama is all relative...rodents are DISGUSTING. So is someone getting shot in the head. But still..mice? Gag.

9/20/2006 09:26:00 PM

 
Blogger Pat rambles...

I had mice leaving their "calling cards" on my desk at work. SICK!

Perhaps a cat would be the solution?

But then again, I have one that runs away from vermin -- smartly.

9/21/2006 08:09:00 AM

 
Blogger patti_cake rambles...

Didn't know you were moving, I thought you loved living there. In light of the shooting and the vermin I can totally see why you would move though.
We need a post to make sure you're okay. It's Thursday..
Yoo Hoo! Mellllissssa......!

9/21/2006 01:23:00 PM

 
Blogger krisbtterfly rambles...

i'll help you count down. there are no mice in our new place (thankfully) so when you come visit it will be mouse-free... although we do have crickets in the crawl-space that look like they're prehistoric. hmm...
*kiss*

9/21/2006 02:52:00 PM

 
Blogger Retro Girl rambles...

Get some humane or glue traps and use 'em till you get out of there. Make sure none of them stowaway in the boxes....they're sneaky little stinkers.

9/21/2006 06:39:00 PM

 
Blogger a fish on a bycicle rambles...

I miss you and Kristie

9/21/2006 06:58:00 PM

 
Blogger krisbtterfly rambles...

fishie... we miss you too!

9/25/2006 11:01:00 AM

 
Blogger Sandra rambles...

Ok, this may sound disgusting but it works: get some 'used' cat litter from someone who has cats, and put it down on the floor. Mice think there's a cat in the house and abandon ship.

9/25/2006 05:18:00 PM

 
Anonymous Anonymous rambles...

Um, is it time to send a search party yet?
xoxoxo
Rach

9/26/2006 05:49:00 PM

 
Blogger James Burnett rambles...

Can't fault you for your fear of rodents (or roaches). I used to subscribe to the I'm bigger than them so they can't hurt me theory. And then I heard the story of how my great grandfather died. I think I was like 12 when the old folks first told me. And it took me a minute to realize they weren't kidding. Anyway, as I understand it he was walking up a dark stairwell in an apartment bldg. he owned in Philly, 'cause a tenant had called asking for a repair job. As he walked around a curve in the stairwell he startled a rat - not one of those pet store rats, but a kitten-sized rat, the kind that look big enough to saddle. And, apparently feeling cornered, the rat attacked. Bit my grandfather on the neck, severing his jugular. His assistant tried to help him as he staggered back down the stairs, but he bled to death.

Not meant to be funny or a bummer, but I tell the story just to say your fear of vermin is definitely rational.

9/26/2006 10:26:00 PM

 
Blogger Marissa rambles...

Oh.My.GOD! I'm so sorry -- that is awful! I would offer to come over and help you brave the mice, but I don't think I'd be much help since I'd probably be jumping up and down, screaming in fear, on the couch!!!!

10/02/2006 06:59:00 PM

 

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