Yay for me! This is my 100th post. (Not counting all the posts I wrote while on diaryland.com.) Anyway, I think I may throw a party in celebration for myself tonight with a bottle of vodka and a boy named Kenn. Or maybe I'll do homework.
OK, the other night, around 2 30am, I was getting into the shower and found the 2nd cockroach I've found in this apartment. The first was found during the initial cleaning of the apartment before Stacie and I moved in. It was in one of the kitchen drawers and was stuck on its back. (Sucka! That's what you get for being gross.) Anyway, I vacuumed it up, and hoped that I would not see anymore.
You need some background. I've lived basically my entire life surrounded by recluses. For some reason, this doesn't bother me at all. I've woken up with them crawling on me, I've taken baths with them, and I've drank from the same glass (i.e., it was dead in the glass that I was drinking out of). Whenever I find one, I put a cup over it, slide a piece of paper under it, and take it outside. I never kill them, because I believe that I shouldn't. Well, this theory apparently does not apply to cockroaches or house centipedes. Only a small part of me felt bad the other night, when I pulled out the vacuum cleaner once again to suck up that gross (GIGANTIC) cockroach that was in my shower. I don't know why I'm not bothered by something that can poison me, but I am bothered by harmless bugs. EWWW.
I thought there was something else I was going to say, but Stacie and I had a long conversation while I was in the middle of this, and I have since forgot. Happy weekend!!!