Today I was able to diagnose myself with bedbug PTSD following an incident where I spotted a reddish-colored object on my chair, and spent the next half hour freaking out, phantom itching and all.
(It was a stray grain from my 7 grain bread, but still. No such thing as being too vigilant. )
Showing posts with label bedbugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bedbugs. Show all posts
1.27.2009
1.11.2008
As It Turns Out, The Bedbugs Weren't So Bad
Well, comparatively speaking.
These are my across-the-hall neighbors from my first apartment in New York City. The one with the bedbugs.
Read and, please...enjoy.
These are my across-the-hall neighbors from my first apartment in New York City. The one with the bedbugs.
Read and, please...enjoy.
2.28.2006
Maybe The Bedbugs Have Prevailed
My life has gotten considerably better since I've left the bedbugs behind. Now that I have a stable home environment, I'm able to work on development of self-actualization (read: directing my life toward the fulfillment of cupcake cravings). I'm even getting to the point where I can be grateful for my experience, because its taught me some very valuable lessons (namely, to always check your bed very, very carefully before going to sleep).
Today, it just all sucks.
Because of those motherfucking bedbugs, I no longer have a television. The Amazing Race is on tonight, and I'm going to miss it.
Today, it just all sucks.
Because of those motherfucking bedbugs, I no longer have a television. The Amazing Race is on tonight, and I'm going to miss it.
12.27.2005
How To Erase Yourself
I'm spending the day cleaning out my old apartment. It hasn't been easy. I've had to be supremely detached and cold. So far there are 7 bags of garbage, and the job is only half done.
It's just stuff, I keep repeating to myself.
The first piece of 'adult' furniture I purchased, so proudly, in 1997? Gone.
Those bedside tables that I refinished? Garbage.
Birthday cards from up to 10 years ago? Bye.
A thousand memories, all sorted through and divided into two piles: the stuff I am permanently letting go, and the stuff I will bag tightly and put into storage. And all this sorting and leaving things behind feels really familiar to me, not in the good way, but in the numb mechanical way in which allowed me to survive this before.
It's just stuff. It's just stuff. It's just stuff.
It's just stuff, I keep repeating to myself.
The first piece of 'adult' furniture I purchased, so proudly, in 1997? Gone.
Those bedside tables that I refinished? Garbage.
Birthday cards from up to 10 years ago? Bye.
A thousand memories, all sorted through and divided into two piles: the stuff I am permanently letting go, and the stuff I will bag tightly and put into storage. And all this sorting and leaving things behind feels really familiar to me, not in the good way, but in the numb mechanical way in which allowed me to survive this before.
It's just stuff. It's just stuff. It's just stuff.
12.14.2005
Closure
An Open Letter To My Bedbugs:
Just about 24 hours from now, I'll be moving. Considering all of the time we've spent together over the past year, I didn't think it was right to leave without saying gooodbye. I want you all to know that I am taking some fond, fond memories with me as I move to my new apartment.
I mean, who could forget all those early morning hours when it was just the 10 of us - you recently fed and crawling back to your homes and me, covered with itchy red welts? Or what about the time when one of you bit my eyelid? Or when you started living in my computer keyboard? Good times! I've got to say that things got really interesting when you overturned your nocturnal habits and started hanging out with me during the day.
One of the nice things about living with you was that you always made me feel so wanted. You really went out of your way to show me that, and to make sure that I woke up with evidence that you had spent time with me during the night. I'll never have to doubt again that my blood is tasty and satisfying. And you were so innovative! Who knew that you could live through that many exterminations? (I hope you know I was only kidding about that. Really. I never meant to hurt you. It's just, you know, a girl's gotta have her own space sometimes.)
I know you'll miss me terribly, but I hope you'll be comforted by the fact that I will carry with me some souvenirs of our time together. Every time I look at the bite scars on my hands, arms and legs, I'll think of you. When I see a dark speck of dust or lint on my clothing or furniture, I'll believe that you've somehow made your way back to me. When I get in bed at night, I'm sure I will not sleep soundly, preferring to wake up intermittently to check my sheets. Yes, all of these things will continue for a long, long time, so don't worry that I'm going to forget about you.
I used to think that you were all using me, but really, I'm the lucky one. Thanks to your company, my life became so much...simpler. I'm just going to love living in my new place without most of my furniture and belongings - it'll be so clean and modern, minimalistic, even. You've really forced me (I know, I can be so stubborn sometimes, thanks for showing me that) to reassess what is essential in my life.
Kisses,
ridiculouschick
PS: You'll understand if I don't leave a forwarding address, right? Even the best relationships have to end sometimes.
Just about 24 hours from now, I'll be moving. Considering all of the time we've spent together over the past year, I didn't think it was right to leave without saying gooodbye. I want you all to know that I am taking some fond, fond memories with me as I move to my new apartment.
I mean, who could forget all those early morning hours when it was just the 10 of us - you recently fed and crawling back to your homes and me, covered with itchy red welts? Or what about the time when one of you bit my eyelid? Or when you started living in my computer keyboard? Good times! I've got to say that things got really interesting when you overturned your nocturnal habits and started hanging out with me during the day.
One of the nice things about living with you was that you always made me feel so wanted. You really went out of your way to show me that, and to make sure that I woke up with evidence that you had spent time with me during the night. I'll never have to doubt again that my blood is tasty and satisfying. And you were so innovative! Who knew that you could live through that many exterminations? (I hope you know I was only kidding about that. Really. I never meant to hurt you. It's just, you know, a girl's gotta have her own space sometimes.)
I know you'll miss me terribly, but I hope you'll be comforted by the fact that I will carry with me some souvenirs of our time together. Every time I look at the bite scars on my hands, arms and legs, I'll think of you. When I see a dark speck of dust or lint on my clothing or furniture, I'll believe that you've somehow made your way back to me. When I get in bed at night, I'm sure I will not sleep soundly, preferring to wake up intermittently to check my sheets. Yes, all of these things will continue for a long, long time, so don't worry that I'm going to forget about you.
I used to think that you were all using me, but really, I'm the lucky one. Thanks to your company, my life became so much...simpler. I'm just going to love living in my new place without most of my furniture and belongings - it'll be so clean and modern, minimalistic, even. You've really forced me (I know, I can be so stubborn sometimes, thanks for showing me that) to reassess what is essential in my life.
Kisses,
ridiculouschick
PS: You'll understand if I don't leave a forwarding address, right? Even the best relationships have to end sometimes.
12.05.2005
Bedbugs Can Read!
And they apparently have internet access and visit this blog. They're biting again. Last night, as I sat on my couch, I watched a bedbug head towards me, crawling along my living room floor. He seemed to be taunting me by his mere presence, daring me to actually go to sleep.
I've solved the problem by taking refuge in the school computer lab, where I plan to remain until a) finals are over and b) I move into my new apartment. Wait, wait, I didn't mean that. I'm actually not going anywhere.*
*unformulated lie, designed to attempt to fool the bedbugs into thinking they've triumphed
I've solved the problem by taking refuge in the school computer lab, where I plan to remain until a) finals are over and b) I move into my new apartment. Wait, wait, I didn't mean that. I'm actually not going anywhere.*
*unformulated lie, designed to attempt to fool the bedbugs into thinking they've triumphed
11.29.2005
Oh, I've Been
activites over the last few days:
speaking to the exterminator manager (who is the same boob that i have dealt with all along) on the phone and telling him about the damage to the furniture, waiting for a call back from the exterminator manager/boob, calling and leaving messages with my management company about breaking my lease, answering calls from friends who are asking if that was really me in the new york times, dodging late night visits to my apartment from a very persistent producer from nbc, crying, pacing, biting my nails, searching craigslist for an affordable apartment, calling agents for apartment listings, crying some more, staring blankly into space trying to figure out what i am going to do to get out of my current situation, doing an interview with cnn, cataloging the damage to my furniture and belongings, calculating how much money i have lost so far in dealing with the bedbugs, wondering if i should seek legal representation, wondering how i am going to get out of my current lease, wondering how i am going to keep my sanity, looking at my picture in the newspaper and resolving to never eat again since i am obviously a fat pig, dealing with the disappearance of all of my saved e-mail from my school e-mail account, crying some more, calling friends and rambling and crying hysterically, looking at apartments, figuring out if i can afford a new apartment, trying to formulate a plan for moving to a new apartment, attempting to figure out why my supervisor at work reacted so coldly to the times story, crying, looking at my clothing and deciding what i can get rid of, looking at my clothing and deciding what can be laundered, looking at my clothing and deciding how much i can afford to get dry cleaned, researching the expense of manhattan storage spaces, contacting the scientist from the museum of natural history to determine what will kill bedbugs without ruining the rest of my furniture, crying, scaring away potential dates, still waiting for a call from the exterminator manager/boob, breathing deeply, reframing this as a fresh start, resigning myself to disposing of most of my possessions, crying, thinking seriously about buying a pack of cigarettes.
what i'm not doing:
sleeping
concentrating on finals
speaking to the exterminator manager (who is the same boob that i have dealt with all along) on the phone and telling him about the damage to the furniture, waiting for a call back from the exterminator manager/boob, calling and leaving messages with my management company about breaking my lease, answering calls from friends who are asking if that was really me in the new york times, dodging late night visits to my apartment from a very persistent producer from nbc, crying, pacing, biting my nails, searching craigslist for an affordable apartment, calling agents for apartment listings, crying some more, staring blankly into space trying to figure out what i am going to do to get out of my current situation, doing an interview with cnn, cataloging the damage to my furniture and belongings, calculating how much money i have lost so far in dealing with the bedbugs, wondering if i should seek legal representation, wondering how i am going to get out of my current lease, wondering how i am going to keep my sanity, looking at my picture in the newspaper and resolving to never eat again since i am obviously a fat pig, dealing with the disappearance of all of my saved e-mail from my school e-mail account, crying some more, calling friends and rambling and crying hysterically, looking at apartments, figuring out if i can afford a new apartment, trying to formulate a plan for moving to a new apartment, attempting to figure out why my supervisor at work reacted so coldly to the times story, crying, looking at my clothing and deciding what i can get rid of, looking at my clothing and deciding what can be laundered, looking at my clothing and deciding how much i can afford to get dry cleaned, researching the expense of manhattan storage spaces, contacting the scientist from the museum of natural history to determine what will kill bedbugs without ruining the rest of my furniture, crying, scaring away potential dates, still waiting for a call from the exterminator manager/boob, breathing deeply, reframing this as a fresh start, resigning myself to disposing of most of my possessions, crying, thinking seriously about buying a pack of cigarettes.
what i'm not doing:
sleeping
concentrating on finals
11.23.2005
I'm So Fucked
I wish I was joking about this, but as I was sitting here, songs from RENT still echoing pleasantly through my head, a bedbug crawled off my computer screen and into my computer keyboard.
I need to get the fuck out of this apartment.
I need to get the fuck out of this apartment.
11.05.2005
New York Apartment Game
Tomorrow morning, I am going to subject myself to an open house apartment viewing on the UWS. I think this is crazy, but I need to move. I'm waving the white flag - the bugs have won. At this point, I am so delusional/paranoid that every night when I get into bed and turn out the light, I picture the leader of the bedbugs whistling to his (of course it's a he) cronies to begin the attack. I have begun to believe that they are smarter than me and that they cannot be stopped.
The ad for the new apartment says 'PROFESSIONALS ONLY'. Does being a professional graduate student count???
The ad for the new apartment says 'PROFESSIONALS ONLY'. Does being a professional graduate student count???
11.04.2005
We're Not Gonna Pay Rent!
VH1 has started airing commercials for Rent, and I'm wondering how I'm going to make it through the entire movie when I tear up at the mere sight of the commercials (and the accompanying music). MS just e-mailed and said that there is a midnight showing on November 22nd at the Ziegfeld Theater. I can't think of a better place - large crowds that will be singing along and cheering and crying. Or maybe that's just us.
In other (unrelated) news, I am considering not paying my rent until my landlord takes care of my bedbug problem, which is unlikely to ever get better since my across-the-hall neighbors have the same issue but aren't...the cleanest people, and thus, less vigilant than I am about maintaining a bug-free home.
In other (unrelated) news, I am considering not paying my rent until my landlord takes care of my bedbug problem, which is unlikely to ever get better since my across-the-hall neighbors have the same issue but aren't...the cleanest people, and thus, less vigilant than I am about maintaining a bug-free home.
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