Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am not a stereotypical girly girl. However, I do relapse in three main ways:

1. I’m a D cup. ‘Nough said.

2. America’s Next Top Model is my guilty pleasure TV show. I have no idea why. Tyra Banks’s insanity is always amusing, and it’s just so addictive watching girls be catty to each other when you’re not involved. I think I’m satisfying some sort of primal female urges that I otherwise ignore. Oh, and artsy pictures are a plus.

3. I hate bugs, insects, spiders, and any other kind of creepy-crawlies.

Yes, I know that I’m a biologist…but I am not a hippie/pot smoking/one with nature and all of God’s creatures biologist. Hiking and bird watching and camping are all just sort of “meh, okay” to me. I get excited over stuff like genes and evolutionary theory (I’m super cool). I’d honestly enjoy nature much more if I had a magical force field that kept bugs a meter away from me.

That being said, I found a cockroach in my apartment this morning. Not. Cool. I’m sort of glad no one was around to witness me doing the “freeze in spot and flail arms uselessly” pose, which I totally did. The nasty thing was just lying on its back in the middle of the bathroom floor not moving. I wondered why the hell it would randomly drop dead and roll over in the middle of the floor, so I got a cup to try to scoop it up…and it came back alive.

*insert flailing and squealing here*

Wtf, seriously? Was it trying to trick me? Why the hell was it playing dead? I ended up just putting the cup over it and leaving it for my roommate to dispose of…who wasn’t too happy about it. Blech. I really hope this is an isolated case, but you know what they say…when there’s one, there’s more. The apartment I lived in last summer was infested with them, and it was horrible. Every night I had Kafka-esque nightmares of giant cockroaches trapping me in my bedroom.

I hated it. There is nothing good about being surrounded by cockroaches. I actually can’t think about anything worse. Although, I was concerned that even more of them would make themselves known. It wasn’t long before I got to the point of seriously considering getting professionals to come in and get rid of them because I couldn’t go on like this. My friend said that it was the best thing that she’d ever done when she looked for a service that specialized in terminix in illinois. Their experts were able to get rid of them quicker than she ever could have imagined. Maybe she’d have some tips? I just knew that something had to be done. I couldn’t go on living like this.

The worst part is I know my fear is illogical. If cockroaches were rainbow colored or shiny neon green, I would probably be poking them with sticks or playing with them. Buprestids are awesome looking. But no, they had to be twitchy and poo-colored, and who wants that as a roommate?