Posts tagged Boston

Things about wars on mice, day 2

I love my landlord. I emailed him at 7am this morning, just as a “Hey, head’s up, I bought d-con for the little icky critters, and since you own the place you probably want to know” email.  Two hours later I received an email back from him that said the exterminator would be by at 3pm, and oh, hey, how much does he owe me for the mouse poison?

Flash forward to 3pm. Mouse traps are installed in addition to more d-con.  My roommates go to bed, I stay up in my bedroom to finish some work.

12: 42am comes around, and I hear a loud, resounding SNAP!

A trap in the kitchen definitely just went off.

Score one for the humans.

Unfortunately, my phobia of mice includes dead ones… so I’m hoping my roommate who goes to work at 3am and is NOT a’feared of mice deals with it. ‘Cuz I’m selfish like that.

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Things about wars on mice

Alright.  This is getting ridiculous.

I have one phobia. One. It’s irrational (hence, phobia), and stupid. But very real.

Mice. Ugh. I hate them.

If there’s a mouse in my house, I have a hard time sleeping. I imagine them crawling on me, and every time the wind blows and bends a window screen or makes the house creak, I am convinced it’s mice infesting and breeding in the walls.

But I’m pretty sure the universe has decided my phobia is so neurotic, it’s going to make it a goal to mock me as much as humanly possible.

Every place I have ever lived has had mice, with the (somewhat odd) exception of my apartment senior year of college (although my roommate had cats for half that year, which could have contributed.).

When I moved into my apartment in Boston, the absolute first thing I saw in our kitchen was a dead mouse stuck in a trap.  Naturally, I freaked out, called my sister, and waited for my roommate to come and clean it up. And barely slept that first night, despite assurances from the landlord and the exterminator they were convinced that was the last one they just hadn’t been able to catch.

Fast forward 2+ months, and surprisingly, there’s actually been no additional evidence of any mice!  Until now…

As a mouse phobic, I’m highly sensitive to mouse droppings, and based on the tiny size of these droppings, we’re looking at baby mice. No.  FUCK THAT.  I’m not having fucking baby mice making my house into their breeding ground.  That’s literally my worst nightmare.  Nuh uh.

War.

Mouse war #1, earlier this year in a different city, started with peppermint, was taken care of by blocking up holes and entry points, and our feelings were mollified by D-Con tablets left out.

Fuck that. This time I’m starting with the D-Con.

Which I sort of bought without consulting all my roommates.  But I don’t really understand people who don’t want mice to get the hell out of their house by any means necessary. ‘Cuz I’m a bad person apparently.

It’s time for these fuckers to die.

God, I hate mice.

(Ironically enough, in 3 days I’m going to see a very big mouse, and I couldn’t be happier.  It might help that a) he’s not real, b) he’s in Florida.)

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Things about having no money

I’m officially a grad student now, living off my savings until the day I’ll inevitably need to break down and get loans, which will be a day I spend about three hours sobbing on the floor and bemoaning the realities of debt (which, hopefully, if I budget well won’t be until next August).

In order to prolong that blessed occasion as much as possible, and, really, because I’ve always been a miser, I’m attempting to save money and cut corners in as many ways as possible.  Granted, I’m not being as stringent or good as I was while in JVC – ie, I’ve treated myself to several lunches and/or dinners out since being here – but in my defense most of those meals are still in the sub-$5 or $10 range.

Still, there is one cost cutting activity I’m currently doing which I’m not actively telling (nor, per se “lying to”) my family about: I’m sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. And plan to for the foreseeable future.

The original plan was to sleep on the air mattress until I found a bed at goodwill or something cheap at IKEA. Maybe even a Craigslist free list procurement.

But… after 3 days of accidentally sleeping on an heirloom bedframe (long story) I discovered my air mattress is actually rather comfortable when on the floor.  I’m sure there’s literature available about how air mattresses are terrible for your back/muscles/brain/credit score and such other statistics, but right now? It’s working for me. Plus, not having to drive someplace in Boston and get hopelessly lost trying to find something to sleep on sounds like a better plan to me.

So that’s one of the nice little factoids of my life that just… doesn’t quite garner a mention in my phone calls and emails home.

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Things about special elections

Apparently I like to live in areas where there are special elections decided on the winner of the primary before the actual special election – first the IL-05 (Hi, Mike Quigley!), and now the MA-Sen (sniff, Teddy).  Which, in reality, actually just means that I live in ridiculously democratic areas.

Yeah. I’m okay with that.

Okay, so it’s not as local politics as say, the Boston Mayoral race, but hey! I’ve only been here a few weeks.  Give me time to learn the players on the stage first.

But still… special elections are ridiculously bad ass.  Mostly because only a small proportion of the population eligible to vote gives a damn.  Oh, representative democracy, you saucy temptress, you.

PS, and only slightly related: I’m now FB friends with Mike Quigley.  Um… because I’m REALLY cool.  I sort of want to ask him if he’s actually riding his bike to work in Washington.

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Things about HOLY SHIT BOSTON STREETS

Oh, hey, I moved to Boston. Yeah.

I don’t know what the fuck the founders of Boston were drinking when they put together Boston’s streets, but I think they may have overdone it.

I’m pretty damn good with maps and directions and geography, so imagine my surprise when I arrived in Boston and immediately turned in 17 wrong directions.  Seriously.  I’ve never seen a city with LESS sense in its urban planning and development. It actually makes anit-sense.

It’s like someone threw spaghetti down on a map of foggy Boston Bay area back in the 1700s and was like, “I shall design this array of spaghetti-strewn geniusness as streets! The pasta gods have deemed it so!”

I don’t know who to blame for changing street names every 4 blocks. That seems like something that could have been fixed in the past 300 years or so. Lazy gits.*

Impressively ridiculous, Boston.

Tomorrow means time to get out my bike… so I can get hopelessly lost in Boston by a 3rd type of transportation in a week.

* Actually, when I expressed my displeasure re: Boston streets to a former Bostonian, his reply was something along the lines of: “Bostonians were too busy saving everyone’s candy asses from the redcoats to care about streets, motherfucker!”

Alright, fine. That’s a half valid excuse at least.

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