google is soooo on my “enemies” list right now…

google just provided me with a stalker. As if my social life wasn’t bitter enough!

So this guy I don’t even know reads my anonymous blog and likes it. He meeboes me and I say “well 10q and all that stuff”, you know, trying to be friendly. And he goes “so…I know your name. and where you used to live. and where you live now. and where you study. and what grades you have. and what internet provider you have. and other personal stuff.” And I go “….whoaaa…..wait a minute sherlock…that’s like…WEIRD…”. And he’s like “that’s not weeeird….what do you mean?”. And I’m like…”ok, I mean like…stalker weird. What’s your name?”. And he’s like “My name is luke skywalker. or…austin powers…or…inside hunter…or something. And I’m close to finding out your home adress. But I don’t want to, I just do this kind of google searching when I’m bored. And now I’m not. But I’m not a weirdo, just so you know.“

Ok, FREEK, you’re not. But do me a favour. Call the guys from the space ship that dropped you off on Earth, and ask them to get you back home. Or call the guys that let you out of that lovely, white, strait jacket, I’m sure they’d be happy to help you.

I only think I live alone

So the giant mosquitos are still a problem. I’ve tried everything, but nothing seems to work (Raid is useless!!! but I’ve succeeded in killing one with hairspray). My arms are all covered with mosquito bites and right now I’m just thankfull they don’t like my face.

Since I live alone, I had to devise a way to deal with this. So, my brilliant mind has come up with the most genius of plans. I TRAP the mosquito under a bowl. Preferably clear glass. Hopefully tossing with aim accurate enough from four feet away to land right on top of it. And then, I just wait until it starves to death. I’ll leave that bowl there for weeks if I have to. I don’t care.

Now I say clear glass because there have been times when I’ve trapped insects under something opaque, and when, three weeks later I went to remove the bowl, I found nothing NOTHING underneath. Oh. My. God. That just means it’s waiting somewhere in a dark recess of my apartment to do the crawl up my nose, eggs, dinner party thing.

I know it sounds cruel to starve an insect to death, especially an insect big enough to pay me rent, but then, it’s also cruel to stab it with a random magazine. And really, why get mosquito insides on my pretty fashion magazines? So now, I have a pet. A pet on death row. I think I’ll name him Boris.

Hi, my name is Mosquito Magnet

Apparently I represent irresistible, delicious, mosquito bait. Otherwise I can’t explain why my room is now full of creepy, unwanted, blood-sucking insects, awaiting their feast. And they’re not like….little, baby-mosquitos, that you could confuse with a needle until they start to move. No. Not like that. More like some mosquitos that survived Chernobyl. They might as well have been smoking cigarettes and flipping channels from my bed when I walked in.

Now, I’m not afraid of bats, or mice, or lizards or anything of that type. But I am deathly afraid of insects, especially of those whose size requires them travel with a valid passport. And, I don’t kill mosquitos. First, because I’m afraid to get close enough to do the killing. Who knows, it might jump onto my face, crawl up my nose, and embed itself in my brain, laying eggs and having dinner parties. Second, because I try to avoid the mess they make on my wall when I kill them. Third, because I’m not a fan of the carnage-clean-up. Mosquito body parts could go everywhere, legs, antennae, a wing or something equally ridiculous could end up inside one of my shoes. Just the IDEA of that makes my head hurt. Oh, and fourth, I have this freakin idea that if you kill one, they all start to attack you.

Now I’m a little worried. I wear a combination of scents, soaps, deodorants and fabric softeners that for some reason mosquitoes find irresistible. I can already see myself tortured in my sleep by these bastards, waked up several times at night by their buzzing, injured while trying to swatt them and bleeding to death due to excessive biting.

And as if going through mosquito hell wouldn’t be enough reason to hate them, now there is something new to worry about: chikungunya. That’s pronounced CHIK-un-gunya, with the accent on the first syllable. Or just chik, for short. The symptoms include a sudden severe headache, high fever, rash, nausea, vomiting and severe, disabling joint pain. There is no vaccine and no cure available, other than relief of the symptoms with analgesics and anticonvulsants. Most people recover within about a week, but the joint pain may continue for up to six months. In the past, chik has always been assumed to be non-fatal, but lately, deaths are being reported. Fortunately, the specie that carries this disease only lives in India, but there’s no end to my paranoia when I’m near mosquitos.