Cockroach Killer Extoardinaire


A bug was harmed in the making of this post. Just not this one since it was outside in the safe zone

I’ve never had to deal with cockroaches before, count me lucky, or sheltered, but I know what they look like. My friend has that as one of her big fears, cockroaches she told me can fly, Sarah, seriously! This friend of mine also recently discovered that she has an intense fear of sink holes, which she just recently discovered and she said they can follow you and happen anywhere.

I am a bug person since the age of three I’ve had memories of grabbing ants (even fire ants, ouch) and putting them in my clear plastic purse. Crickets, grasshoppers, moths, caterpillars, rollie pollie bugs, about every bug you can think of I’d collect. As I’ve gotten older I still have an appreciation of all things creepy and crawly, yet, I’ve changed since I was a little girl. If a bug is invading my home I will most likely kill that bug with a vengeance, they will get especially annihilated if I caught them in my bed.

There is no love for bugs if they are found creeping around my home, though they can only wish that I have compassion the day I find them and I might try to let them outside. If they get caught in our home again I doubt I can find it in my bug loving heart not to crush them to pieces. My husband does not have my killer instincts and so we have taken on opposite roles to say the least. So, when my husband and I went to visit our little pet and he nearly fell over I thought he had hurt himself, which was not quite so.

He saw a cockroach, jumped onto the coach like a girl, and told me to take care of it. That bugger was huge, so I did the logical thing.

Me: “I’m going to get my killing boots, be right back.”
Husband: “Don’t leave me with it, come back here!”

I headed over to my closet on the opposite side of the apartment and searched for the perfect killing boots. I couldn’t find my favorite pair so I went with a high top type of boot after five minutes of searching, pulled up my pajama bottoms, and stomped on over. My husband was on the couch cowering, asking me why I’d left him for so long, he wouldn’t stop hiding on the couch. The cockroach was, of course, hiding as well.

I wasn’t going to be done until I killed it, so I searched around and was able to rush it out but I missed killing it and it darted under our couch.

Me: “We need to move the couch, it’s hiding, get up and help me move it.”
Husband: “What if it attacks me?! I don’t want it to attack me!”

It took quite a bit of convincing but he did move the couch and lo and behold… The cockroach was someplace else. I was on the hunt so I flipped over a pillow and found it, and went into killing mode. I may or may not have sworn while I was stomping it to death and did more than a double tap, more like a twenty tap to make sure it was dead. You gotta remember cockroaches can survive anything, and they are probably like zombies, you gotta make sure that head is off to really kill them.

We then volleyed back and forth who would throw away the dead bug, but I did the killing, so he can take care of the cleanup. My husband then informed if there was a zombie apocalypse that he would be able to handle it. I highly doubt that and know I would just need my killing boots to be able to take on some zombies.

When getting answers means testing

cirqueplayAll throughout my life I’ve always had medical oddities which have refused to be classified and that I end up being told that they couldn’t find the problem. Or, that the problem is there, but it literally can’t be classified when they test it and they can’t put a name on what happened to me. Generally this is skin related where I get a classified unknown diagnosis, and when every time I go to the doctor I don’t get an answer has to be something pretty disastrous for me to turn to the hospital for answers.

My husband was trying to explain my aversions to hospitals, but I told him that generally if you are a woman you can handle a large amount of pain without complaining. It’s like we are literally programmed for that, going through life taking stuff without blinking an eye.

So, with my visit to a neurologist I wasn’t too surprised when they told me they didn’t have a clue what brought it in, what it is, and anything until they test me.

Brain MRI testing, it just sounds terrifying. I’ve had MRI testing before, and even heart tests as a kid, but the brain seems so much more… Scarier, for some reason. I don’t know quite what to say when they ask me about symptoms and what might have triggered it:
I had a banana right beforehand.
I was drinking lots and lots of water because I know you get dehydrated on flights.

They then ask you what happened to you, and I answer them like how I did on the flight, “Well you know the most unimaginable pain ever and when they say they could get you oxygen on the plane you really wish they said venomous snakes to put you out of your misery???? Um, like that.”

The Doctor was so straight laced, and nice, that I felt awkward trying to interject some humor into the conversation especially since my head was killing me and jingling purses sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I’m oddly aware of perfume and how it’s like a vice around my nose and brain, and all of the high heels in the hospital hallway was making me want to push toilet paper in my ears.

I’ve done that before, wet toilet paper in the ears to drowned out sound… And it didn’t work out well when I did it the last time so I was getting pretty desperate with my headache. Luckily I got out of there without randomly yelling and only moderate twitching.


I don’t know if it’s common to get as excited about cooking food as I can get with cooking my husband dinner. My guess is that it might have to do with the fact that I was deprived of cooking for all of my life. There was also that terrible fear of messing up and giving myself food poisoning with raw meats.

I have decided to name myself a Cookaholic because of how much I’ve been cooking combined with my excitement for not killing myself or my husband.

The day before I did something that I totally in a million years thought I would ever do because I thought I had to throw it up in the air like you see in the movies and that just wouldn’t work. I’d toss it up in the air only to have it be stuck on the ceiling or stuck in my hair when gravity would take over and bring it back down.

What is this mystery meal I’m taking about with throwing it, tossing it, and spinning it with the agility I know I don’t have in the kitchen? Why, I am taking about making homemade pizza. It wasn’t exactly from scratch because I bought the dough but I am still giving myself brownie points because I did not have a clue what I was doing!

I have always either gone to a restaurant, ordered in, or bought a frozen pizza. I never even imagined making it myself, it just came to me when this lady was doing a food demo with the pizza dough and ingredients. With my husbands encouragement that I might be able to do it myself I bought the pizza dough, sauce, cheese, and pepperoni slices with a silent wish that I wouldn’t burn it to oblivion. The cost of everything was even cheaper than getting a frozen pizza and much, much cheaper than getting it delivered for sure.

I used a type of cookie sheet, let the dough rest, and then started to play with it. Pizza dough has one of the strangest textures that is even more pronounced when you are stretching and pulling it. I wondered if I was doing it right, slapped on some sauce, cheese, and pepperoni, and shoved it in the oven. I stood with my head inches from the oven as I watched for it to be ready and timed it on my stop watch to keep track of the time.

What was the result? Did I fail my culinary challenge? Why, believe it or not, I so passed it! That homemade pizza was amazing and I got enough dough to do it all over again when my husband is out-of-town. Hopefully the second time will be just as successful and it wasn’t just a fluke.

It’s a conspiracy against me

So, my husband got me an iphone and I know what you’re thinking if you are an apple person, “Noooo!! You should have waited, the newest iPhone is coming out any time and they didn’t tell us when but it is sooo coming and it will be the awesomest!” My brother mentioned this several times when I first told him I had an iPhone that I needed to wait and my current phone situation was that I wasn’t going to have one so yeah… I couldn’t wait.

I don’t know anything about smart phones, I’ve had a basic phone all my life, a flip phone, and those seemed rather simple and easy. I got the smart phone because I was allowed to and it sounded like it might be cool.

Plus, the phone has Siri. I already formulated ridiculous questions to ask her, like the of course famous one of: “Siri, where would you bury a dead body?” She, to my surprise, answered it quite efficiently by mentioning funeral, crematorium, and a dump/ditch. I chose the dump/ditch, and she more than readily told me the closest one to me. I also asked her what is the meaning of life? Which she readily gave me this lengthy answer of being nice to people, living well, and a whole paragraph of what it meant. I talked to Siri so much the first few days that my phone battery was completely drained pretty quickly.

But, I tried something different last night after I watched my husband play with her. He kept on saying stuff in French, Japanese and German and she kept responding back to him in that language. He knows basically three words of each of those three languages and she understood him and carried on a conversation which probably translated went, “No way, you just asked the great Siri if I speak French? Why, I’ve been programmed with so much French I could make your head spin!” I was a little bummed when my husband told me she was programmed for those three languages, but not Spanish.

I know a lot more Spanish than I do all three of those languages, I kind of wanted to practice my Spanish with her and get a little more fine tuned at it. But, that’s not going to be happening because she’d just tell me I don’t know what you’re talking about if I asked her how she was in Spanish.

Then, I’m on this blog and she says that her husband just tells her to say Sumimasen while she is in Japan because she’s planning on getting in a lot of trouble and he says that is equivalent to saying your sorry. In the blog post he even pronounces it for her with the syllables so I’m feeling pretty good at getting this right. I activate Siri and speak into it: “Sue-me ma-sen.” It sounds great to me, Siri takes a few seconds to think about it and in the Australian accent I chose for her she says: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying. Would you like me to do a web search for Siril Malsen/Sulen Maltide/Silly Masen?”

I try over and over again to say this phrase, I accentuate so she gets I’m trying to speak another language, but she keeps on coming up with these ridiculous web searches for what I’m saying. Finally, I try again with another phrase: “Domo Arigato.” Again, she comes up with these weird searches while my husband just said it once, each time, and she totally understood him.

I think it’s a conspiracy against me, maybe my husband is the true master of the Siri. Or, with her Australian accent programmed in she has a harder time understanding me… maybe.

I might self destruct your baby

I went to visit a friend of mine with her baby, and as you guys who have read my blog probably know I am not a baby person. They look at me with this look that clearly says, “Ma, what the hell is she?” knowing that I am just as unsure about them. But, I do love my friend, bought her lots of baby gifts before I left, so I wanted to see her little man.

When I first walked in he was in his carrier and didn’t even look like he was alive. This is probably a compliment, because he was very quiet, tiny, and peaceful looking while he slept. He’s a cute baby, which I don’t say casually because I am not much of a baby person.

Now, funny enough as it is, my brother just had a baby come into his life via his best friend and his wife. My brother was very funny in asking me what to bring as an offering and I told him probably get the parents some food… That’s what I did. He ended up walking the aisles of a store with his friend where they both commented, “I never thought I would come to this point, where you would be walking down the baby aisle with me looking for baby stuff.” Of course, my brother had the experience of me as a baby, while I never grew up with anyone younger than me, I was always the baby.

My friend is a great mom and it seems like everything came naturally to her. Since coming back to visit I’ve gone by my work and one of the first questions people ask me there is if a baby is my next thought. Since I never even held my friends baby because it was nighttime and he was self destructing and crying, so… that’s a definite no thanks.

I don’t like people pushing having a baby on me, I know my husband is much older than me so we don’t have all the time in the world but I’ve seen what my friend goes through with her little man in her life. Though he is quite adorable, she has gone through much sacrifice and her whole life has changed. I am much more eager to hopefully get back into my career with a bunch of other employees who enjoy their work to. Somewhere that I can work at where I can grow but also have a lot of fun at my job.

I do think that being a mother is one of the most selfless, self-sacrificing, and both the hardest and most rewarding jobs out there. I look forward to meeting my friends little man hopefully again when I visit. And, I loved seeing a fellow friend of mine hold her baby and how happy she was doing it.

Meatless Meat is kind of scary

There is this one time me and my brother were sabotaged into going to a vegetarian place. Now, if you are vegetarian that is great, and your prerogative, but if I didn’t eat meat I would starve to death slowly and painfully. Me and my brother like ahem, love, meat so we went to this unassuming place near the city and opened up our menus. My eyes scanned the menu for meat and all I saw was “meat-like” burgers and so we had our waitress come over to see if we made up our minds.

Me: “Um, so, what’s up with the burgers? They are meat … right?”

Waitress: “They are soy burgers, and taste just like meat. I mean, our customers who eat meat totally say it’s just like a normal burger!”

This is when the waitress tries, unsuccessfully, to convince us that this meatless burger with soy cheese is totally the bomb diggity and meat lovers are converted into vegetarians with one bite. My brother and I give my mother this look like she sold us off to a slave driver and once our poor waitress leaves we totally freak out. Of course, my brother and I boycott it immediately while telling my mom over and over again how crazy she is for bringing us there. She delivered us to a restaurant that says it gives us burgers that don’t even have real cheese or meat… cheese and meat was like our bread and butter.

Fast forward to today-ish, I am more adventurous and I worked with a co-worker who was a vegetarian. She would eat these dishes that look an awful lot like meat, so much so that I’m deceived that she threw in her veggie cape for a leather jacket.  I once tried her bbq ribs that were of course soy ribs slathered in bbq sauce and it wasn’t bad, from what I can remember. I decided to buy it for myself at a store when I was visiting with my family and cooked (a.k.a., microwaved) it up for myself.

Now, I think anything slathered in bbq sauce might be tasty, kind of like covering something in chocolate. But, when I made those meatless bbq ribs and tried it I just couldn’t handle it. It was stringy, strange, and that bbq sauce just didn’t make it amazing enough to save it. I patted myself on the back for trying but I am certainly not turning into a vegetarian and a good steak sometimes just tastes like heaven on my taste buds.

Godzilla ain’t got nothin on this lizard

Outside this lizard is harmless… in our apartment he is terrifying!

I have this thing about lizards and I used to own geckos when I was younger, just like this little guy I snapped a picture of in Florida. They move fast, and if you grab them by the tail that tail will wiggle in your hands like a worm being threatened with a hook. But, I dig them and the cats we had in our house at time of the geckos thought they were delicious because they kept on eating them.

The family cats would also sneak into my bedroom and eat the heads off my plants I was trying to grow… every time. I just ended up giving up on having lizards if I had cats and growing plants because I have the black thumb of plant death.

I spent quite a bit of our Honeymoon trip chasing fish in the ocean, sharks, barracudas, and lizards on land. I became like the lizard whisperer and even got some amazingly close pictures because I stepped toward them, stopped, stepped toward them, pretended I wasn’t going to take a picture, and they’d be caught off guard and end up not fleeing when they caught sight of me. My husband would just laugh as he saw me scurry after every lizard I saw and then take pictures of me stalking the little guys and inching my camera ever so slowly toward them.

Now, I’m the one laughing because my lizard whisperer ways helped him out of jumping on the counters. I hear this girly scream talking to my mom and I go out to check on what’s going on. There is just this super tiny, ultra adorable little gecko scampering about. I saw him before in our laundry room and a few other times, but this was the first time he ventured out into the living area. My husband screamed for me to get it out, and of course, scared the little guy into hiding. And, I had to explain to my mom I’d call her back because my husband is terrified. I guess lizards in our house turns into a Godzilla scenario of epic proportions that I need to rescue him from.

I did a stake out on our little gecko friend, finding him again in the living area, missing him, and then catching sight of him again late at night. I tried my slow-moving chameleon moves on him and somehow got him away from his hiding spots. I ended up sitting on the floor and cracking up because he then moved toward me and ended up hiding behind my knee. I’d scoot backwards on the floor and he’d run right underneath my legs and I’d laugh even harder.

After much patience I held both my hands in scoop fashion and he walked right up into my hand. I held him carefully, since he was so tiny and he had little dust bunnies attached to his back legs. I opened up our garage, ran down the stairs, and tried to set him on a leaf, but he refused to leave and I had to wait a while as he crawled around and around in circles and avoided the leaf.  He was so cute, I was pretty close to hiding him in my room, finding a little bug box, and keeping him. I resisted this urge since I’m not sure what he would eat and I’d be too tempted to set him loose and hear my husband scream like a girl again.

Want a snuggle time movie? You chose wrong!

Me and the man tonight went out for a little date night action and this involved going to a new Italian place that I swear was maybe a Mexican place when I stepped in. The outside screamed super fancy, but the inside was kind of cozy and casual. And I say it hinted at Mexican because of the colors for some reason were just so bright, and vibrant, that I was a little thrown off when I opened up the menu. I was of course happy though because I am insanely addicted to pasta and absolutely love it.

I haven’t had pasta in so long it seems that I think I went into overdose once I started eating it and those first few bites were like heaven to start off. Then I kept on stealing my husband’s food (I do this… he’s used to this… no one stops me) and he had some amazing potato bites that I stole more because he wasn’t paying attention to his food and guarding it enough.

We then went to see Bourne Legacy and slipped into the theater a couple of minutes after the previews had started. You could see the couple behind us were snuggling, lovey dovey style behind us in their seats. Obviously this was movie date night, which looking at the lady behind me I was wondering if she was ready for this Bourne movie. I know I was, but this certainly wasn’t a romantic comedy and you of course have punching, hitting, killing, and all of that stuff.

Well, I will try not to give things away but it got to maybe part way through it and the movie got pretty violent(er). You could hear them talking in the back, “Oh, what does that mean? Ah! Awww! No! Oh no! AH!”  and all that and clearly were not happy with what was going on. The guy was consoling his girlfriend and they were not happy campers. A few minutes later, they clearly walk out of the movie not to return again, she had her purse on her shoulder and he was exiting with her. Me and the husband just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. The man loves his action flicks and I’ve seen Bourne before so I knew there would be chasing, running, and killing.

I don’t think this guy briefed his date on what was going to be happening. He certainly did not get brownie points for that movie selection for sure, and it was quieter in the movie theater after they left so that was bonus for us.

Fishing for Turtles

Why it’s called fishing… you catch fish, not turtles! A picture I took in the ocean.

I must admit that I am quite the avid fisher woman and I’ve been doing it since I was five years old. Me and my dad would take out our fishing poles, go up to the lake three hours away from our home, and spend hours and hours fishing. We rarely caught anything up at that lake, but it was the only place we could fish at and we kept trying. It turned out to be some pretty happy memories of me and my dad and groomed me into the severe tomboy I am today.

I didn’t mind worms, or worm guts, or slimy fish, and any of that stuff. I liked getting dirty from when I first could crawl some place and would keep bugs in my little caterpillar purse I carried around. I was unusual for a girl and rough housed with my brother constantly.

So, I tend to surprise guys when I fish, bowl, golf, or do anything that normally a girl would shy away from. I can bait my own hook, replace my hook after the line has broken, take a fish off the hook, but I came across something I wasn’t prepared for the day before. I was fishing and enjoying it when I seemed to have caught my first fish of the day. I reeled it in and it came up to the surface and I kind of stared at it like it was the lochness monster I was bringing in to shore.

Instead of it being like that creature I had an unexpected surprise… there was a turtle on my hook. 

The thing stretched it’s neck out as I brought it in and fought me every bit of the way, and also he was super heavy. Luckily, I had a guy with me who was the husband of the horse lady I’ve come across and he dragged the turtle up onto the pier.

I guess unhooking a turtle is like a fish but a turtle will snap at you, and has little claws he tries to scratch you up with while you try to set him free. I watched the whole scenario feeling quite surreal and thinking that they gotta get rid of all those turtles. There are more turtles in the water at this pond than fish and whenever you cast out your line the turtles paddle over to the bobber, bite it, and then dive down to try to see what’s attached to it. I’ve caught all sorts of fish but turtles are certainly not on my menu for fishing and I hope that big fat turtle learned his lesson not to eat little fish with hooks attached to them.

Ow, okay, I’ll go to Vegas

I get to see drunken cartoon characters in Vegas… yay!

My mother is about one of the most ‘interesting’ and funniest women you might come across, and currently she has this kick for Vegas. And, she really loves going to Vegas with me so it’s like our mother/daughter trips we do except we gamble, drink, eat, and I get to wear really low-cut clothes that I wouldn’t wear out in public anywhere else. I’ve gone to Vegas so many times I actually have a collection of clothes that are specifically for my Vegas trips, they are low-cut, and crazy cleavage popping clothes. I can’t wear sexy heels or even sexy skirts so I end up with letting the girls out and no matter what I wear I can hardly compete with the young girls running around Vegas now-a-days.

I’m always under-dressed but never to too much of an extreme because everyone shows more leg, breast, bottom, and stomach than me. I do always have a great time with my mom, but last time she went she had to take my father because I had just gotten married and she did it the day after my wedding. She planned another trip in August and since she planned that trip she’s been badgering me about coming.

Literally every time I talk to her she mentions she’s going to Vegas and how I can come too. I was kind of hesitant to give her a full commitment but I talked over the possibility with the hubby and he was okay so I finally conceded. Yes, I will go to Vegas with you once again.

Me and my mom gamble a little at the penny slots, like $1 at a time and mainly money is spent on shows and food. I took her to some really nice restaurants with our last trip and we had a really good experience with food. It can be either a hit or a miss for us, even if we go to high-end dining places in Vegas where you’d think the food is amazing but really it’s sub-par. And, spending the kind of money you end up spending on high-end food in Vegas you want it to at least be average, but we’ve had much worse. I even got really sick on one trip and we had to miss Thunder from down Under because of the food I ate.

I know, I had to be awfully sick to miss a male review where they end up stripping off all their clothes… oh, I was. My mom wasn’t much better with her hip killing her (writing that makes me feel like she’s an old lady, but she’s always like in her 30’s in my head) so we had to skip it. I felt terrible about missing it, and told my regular clients at work I’d be seeing it, so when they came in to see me they asked how to it was and so did a friend of mine and I had to admit I missed it.

We might do it this trip, but I’m excited at the prospect of pulling out my ‘Vegas’ clothes and getting to wear them. I will first arrive back where my mom is a few days early so we can fly out together and maybe get a girl date or two with my friends.