Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

I never thought I cared one way or the other about two inch long brown cockroaches until I was awakened by one making its way across the back of my neck at 4:30 this morning. There's no human on earth who wouldn't have reacted like I did: shooting straight out of the bed to do the crazed-Indian-on-fire dance. I did everything except stop, drop and roll to get that little bastard off me. (SHUDDER) ... that's a feeling that has no comparison.

I'm at a friend's brother's beach house in idyllic Wrightsville Beach North Carolina, and it couldn't be more perfect: backyard of sand dunes, sea grass and ocean, Bosch appliances, trash compactor, open kitchen, and expansive living room leading to five bedrooms---mostly full of pretty young ladies. And only one drawback: the deck and garage---and sometimes bedrooms---are crawling with thick brown cockroaches. We've eaten outside each night, and every 30 minutes someone does the freakout dance as a little beastie makes its way up an unsuspecting leg. An amusing sight 'til it eventually happens to you.

Is it the high water table? The sun and heat that they crave? I have no idea. But if you ever want to launch someone into a fully awakened state, drop a big ass cockroach on the back of their neck. It sure did the trick for me.


(Side note: this blog's two year anniversay passed without mention. I guess I was supposed to say something).