Storm Front

(Discovered dead in a pair of my shorts yesterday morning. God Billy Joel, in that River of Dreams somewhere upstate, please hear my prayer and bless this apartment with screens)

As I mentioned in my last post, I have officially moved to a new apartment. This is the third time I’ve moved since coming to New York late last September, and I’m planning on moving again in January or February.

Yep, I’m subletting again.

In my experiences as a 21^st century urban nomad, I’ve grown accustomed to only moving bedroom furniture, and never accumulating any things. Normally this is for the best. It is not, however, the best when your moving into an apartment that is brand new a month before the permanent residence move in.

Right now I am pioneering an apartment with another subletter.

It’s a new experience, that I’m not sure I’m always fond of. And, if you chose to forget the fact that I suffered so much in my life without internet that I ran away to the beach for a week, I think that I’ve met the challenge head on.

Without further ado, I bring you: TOLLY VS. THE COCHROACHES AND OTHER PESTS

While I was enjoying a completely air conditioned condo in Rehoboth Beach, this picture was sent to me by my fellow pioneer:

The Caption: “the kitchen floor *shudder*”

I had a moment where I convulsed on the couch and said “EWW! Eww! Eww! Eww!” But once I got over my adverse reaction I got the details. The roach was found dead, and, so far, it was a lone warrior.

I might have continued to freak out, but I remembered my first apartment in New York. The one where I found a dead mouse next to my mattress on the floor, yet there were no more mice sightings after that day. I was hopeful for this new place.

It was false hope. Baby cockroaches were coming out of the cracks in our shower after dark to terrorize my roommate’s feet.

(Okay, from the picture you can't really see them, but they're quite menacing)

I took matters into my own hand:

With my trusty Raid gun (and believe me, it is a gun) I waited until night fall and attacked the baby roaches on their own territory. As I shot at them, both the ones brave enough to venture out of the crack and the ones who cowardly took refuge in their home, I found satisfaction in watching them drown in the chemicals and their bodies slow down. Is this how psychopaths feel with their guns?

Honestly, I don’t care.

Next came the mosquitoes. When “OFF Deep Woods spray’ wasn’t enough to combat the fact that the apartment windows doesn’t have screens , I got down to business:

While this dinky little fan is adorable and less offensive to my nose than the conventional spray, it is only effective when you don’t move. This meant I had to stay perfectly still for hours on time on the cot in our kitchen (we don’t have a couch, we’re pioneers, remember?) which is the only place in the apartment where we have internet access. So, two K-Marts, a Duane Reade, and one amazing Walgreens later, I came back with these babies:

I made it through the storm front and I declare myself the champion.