I Ain’t ‘Fraid of No Ghost (or One Semi-Sleepless Night)

Now, bugs, on the other hand… they creep me the fuck out.

I cannot avoid the skin crawling sensation every time I see any type of insect, arachnid, or other bug-like vermin. Even when going to kill said pest, I have to take a moment to muster my courage and approach the creature without reacting in a way that will betray my stance of dominance (according to the hierarchy of the animal kingdom). Once the deed is done I feel a sense of relief but it’s the anxious moments during the standoff that I dread. The waning moments of the insect’s short life versus the nervous tension I have built inside of me creates a moment in time not unlike the high noon showdowns of the Wild West.

What the hell does this have to do with ghosts you ask? Well, unless you want to consider the spirit of the deceased bug… then nothing really. I just needed a catchy title. LOL.

But one night a few weeks ago, I had an encounter with a bug that didn’t end the way I would have liked and it still haunts me even to this day. (You like what I did there? “haunt”… ahem… never mind)

I was lying in bed on a very humid night. I felt something brush across my face and thought it might be a random hair left by my girlfriend on my pillow. I quickly realized it wasn’t a hair and I bolted out of bed to turn on the light. In the few seconds as I moved to the light source, I brushed my face repeatedly as if I had a swarm of bugs on my face as opposed to just one tiny little creature.

I caught sight of the bug flying around and it looked like a cross between a small spider, a fly and a mosquito. It had the long, thin wiry legs of a mosquito or one of those light, 6-legged house spiders and the body of a very small fly. I think had it just been a mosquito, or a small spider, I would have been able to cope with the situation much better. But it was this unique hybrid of a bug that left me disoriented and emotionally rattled. As it flew around my bedroom, I couldn’t help but squirm and squeal like a small child that has come face-to-face with his greatest fear. Eventually, I managed to compose myself long enough to see the bug fly out of my bedroom.

What made this encounter more striking was the realization that I have NEVER had a bug in my apartment in my short time here. I found it strange and was wondering how one made it inside. I’m always careful to close the screen doors on my windows. Maybe it was my girlfriend who has a habit of opening all my blinds (to let in natural light) and open windows (to get some fresh air in my apartment). It couldn’t have been my fault this little fucker was flying around my apartment causing me to lose sleep. It was about 3 in the morning when it landed on my face.

Needless to say, this meant war. I had to kill this bug so I could have piece of mind. I wouldn’t be able to relax and have the adrenaline rush wear off until the deed was done. With vengeance on my mind, I pursued my prey into the living room. I grabbed a Crate & Barrel catalog that I had been meaning to throw out and roll it up as my weapon of choice. I spied the creature as it rested on my off-white walls. Its light brown body contrasted strongly against the wall making it an easy target for my wrath.

I raised my hand, weapon at the ready, and smacked the wall. SWAT!!

As I drew back my hand to view the impending clean-up job on the wall, a wave of dread washed over me. There was no trace of bug innards on my wall. This realization was coupled with an angry fly-by across my line of sight by the offending bug. I was so sure I had hit the little fucker, how did it not die?? I must have made contact since the creature seemed to have some difficulty flying around. This was a great sign and I was out for blood. There was just one problem.

My apartment has hardwood floors. The dark wood made for perfect camouflage for the bug that was now struggling to survive. I didn’t know how hurt it was but I knew at the very least it was stunned. But I wanted it dead. That would be the only way I could go to sleep. I had already wasted about a half hour stalking this little creature and refused to lose any more precious time for sleeping. I decided to be patient. Eventually, it would fly high enough for me to strike the death blow and go to sleep. I sat on my futon waiting for the moment it would reappear.

And reappear it did. The only problem was I wasn’t ready for it. My eyelids were getting heavier and I decided to turn on the TV after 10 minutes of waiting. When I saw the bug again, I was distracted, had put down the C&B catalog, and pretty much had forgotten about the bug. I freaked out as it was now flying close to and landed on my leg. I bolted off the futon trying to gather myself for the next offensive attack on this creature. But just like before it disappeared out of sight.

This went on for another hour or so with some variations in where I sat (on the small couch, at the dining table, on the futon again) and how focused I was (I had a stretch of 15 minutes where I meticulously scanned the floor).

Once the adrenaline wore off and I hadn’t seen the bug for 20 minutes, I decided I wasted enough time trying to kill this thing. I’d try again in the morning but I had lost too much sleep and was more annoyed than anything. I closed the bedroom door (first time I had to do this at this apartment) and went to sleep.

I woke up the next morning and there was no sign of the bug. I also realized very quickly that it was my own fault that any creatures had come into the apartment in the first place. Earlier the previous day, there was rain in the forecast and I had closed all my windows. Because of the high temperature and humidity, the apartment got stuffy very quickly so I reopened some of the windows. I had left the small screen door open on one of the windows.

So, what’s the moral of the story here? If you’re going to something (anything!), be sure to do it right the first time. Whether it’s closing/opening a window, or trying to kill a pesky bedroom invader intent on disrupting your sleep.

Until next time, faithful reader……

My New Apartment (Part 3)

(NOTE: Sorry that this took weeks to write. This arguably has been the hardest of the 3 parts to write...... I hope it was worth your wait.)

If you need to catch up on the story, here are the links to Part 1 and Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My last week in the old apartment was fairly uneventful. The one thing I should have been dedicating my time to was packing. I had found the new apartment relatively quickly and there was a very small window to get my things over to the new place.

Instead, I was overwhelmed and exhausted with my work schedule. After getting home late after teaching each night, the LAST thing I wanted to do was PACK. Each night that week, I reasoned I had time the next day. That line of thinking didn't work when it got to be Thursday and I knew I had friends helping me move Friday night. I started getting things together in earnest on Thursday night.

I had devised a GENIUS plan to move all of my things to the new place. I was going to recruit several of my male friends to help me take furniture and bulk items to the apartment on Friday night and another group of "volunteers" would come by on Saturday (for the morning and afternoon) to take everything else. This would afford me a little extra time to pack (last minute, of course) on Friday night and MAYBE even Saturday morning. It would also allow me to rent the truck for only 24 hours.

The one snag in the ill-conceived plan was the timing of it all. You see, for those of you who don't remember, Halloween fell on a Saturday this year. I was basically asking my friends to help me move on Halloween weekend. This didn't prove to be a problem on Friday night as I got several dudes to come by and help me with what I figured was the more difficult part. The problem I had was finding people willing to help me out on Saturday. In the end, I only had about 3 people helping me the entire day.

I picked up the keys to my new apartment on Friday afternoon and picked up the UHaul truck before 5pm. My friends began arriving shortly thereafter for the big move. After several hours of heavy lifting, I took my boys out for some pizza and wings. The next morning, with many things still left to pack, I was disappointed to find that very few people were available to help me. Everyone's Halloween plans was beginning to interfere with my moving plans (grrrr). Not that I blame them but I have to admit being a little disappointed with the lack of help.

Eventually, with the help of a select few, I managed to get everything moved to my new apartment by 2AM (yes, you read that correctly*)! Oh, did I forget to mention that this was also when daylight savings time ended? When I say I was done at 2AM, I mean 2AM AFTER the clock was turned back one hour (so I was done by 3AM by my internal clock). There was JUST enough time for me to wash up and head out to my friend's Halloween party.

......

The first few weeks in the new place took some getting used to. There were many things about the life I knew that had been disrupted by the move. For starters, I was always used to living with SOMEONE. For most of my life it was my mom and for a couple of years it was with my ex. There is a lot to be said about having someone in close proximity to you. A residual closeness that I had gotten so used to and found so comforting. I didn't have to speak to the person but knowing someone was around was a nice feeling.

Now that I was living on my own I was more aware of how alone I was. Being forced to a position of self-sufficiency wasn't the issue. It was not having anyone to talk to. Not having anyone ask me a question or even tell me about their day. I had gotten so accustomed to these things in my life that I didn't realize how important it was for me to have someone with me.

There was so much alcohol that I had brought from the old apartment I figured I either needed to start drinking it myself or plan for the housewarming party. I recall the first night in my apartment I decided to have a celebratory cocktail and I made myself a margarita. The next night, I mixed myself another drink which I had with dinner. The following day I was in the mood for my 'nightly' drink while I was cooking. I had a pre-dinner cocktail and another one with dinner. Over the next few days, my own personal Happy Hour progressed to the point where I would have at least 3 drinks a night. I would go to bed buzzed daily (there were a few nights were I can say I was legitimately drunk).

This couldn't continue long term and there were two factors that led me to stop drinking as much as I did those first two weeks on my own. The first was a practical reason and it was financial. Drinking is an expensive hobby if you do too much of it and I wasn't ready to commit to buying a bottle or two every week. The second factor was much more personal. I've alluded to my father in my blog before... and it is partly due to him that I was able to stop drinking as much as I did.

My father was an alcoholic. He was in severe denial and I suspect that to this day he probably still believes he never really had a drinking problem. Though he had his moments of kindness, overall he was not a good man to my family. His way of coping with the stress in his life was to drink. To be honest, he was a better person when he was drunk. But it was this realization that really hit home with me.

I was dealing with the loneliness I was experiencing by distracting myself with my daily drinks. Alcohol was incorporated into nearly every aspect of my nightly routine. Since I got home late after teaching, I would mix a drink before starting to prepare dinner. I'd drink during dinner. I'd drink after dinner. I'd regularly fall asleep on the futon in the living room and wake up to a TV that had been on all night and staring at a half empty glass by my side.

I've since stopped drinking in excess thought I still enjoy a drink or two every now and again. In the weeks leading up to my move (and even a little after), many people told me that a person starts learning a lot about themselves when they live on their own. I didn't quite see that learning process manifest itself until I managed to clear my head of some clutter that had been keeping me from discovering who I am. I understand that the process is an ongoing one. It's an awakening of sorts; a discovery, if you will. And it is one that I'm genuinely excited about and I cannot wait to see where this journey takes me.

Until next time, faithful reader......

* A special thank you goes out to Anthony for his help on my moving weekend. He was the only one who came to help me on both days and even helped me almost until midnight on Halloween. He was heading out to the same Halloween party I was going to and I felt guilty that it was my move that made him go to the party so late. I am eternally grateful for his help during my move and I hope to someday repay him in kind. From the bottom of my heart, thank you brother! I owe you big time!

My New Apartment (Part 2)

Welcome back RaUM-nivores,

I need to back track for just a moment... There was one little detail that I may have overlooked in my previous post ("My New Apartment (Part 1)"). I had been looking for apartments for more than 6 weeks. But my search before those last 6 weeks had been half-hearted and full of optimism since the first apartment I viewed was a wonderful 1 bedroom apartment in Forest Hills. I assumed, having found that first apartment so quickly (and easily), that I would have no trouble finding another one JUST like it if I had to.

Now, I only had 2 weeks left in October and I needed to find an apartment ASAP. That Sunday (the 18th), I found a listing on craigslist.org for an apartment in Middle Village. It was less than $1,000/month and all the utilities were included. It was too good to be true in my opinion. My experience during this apartment hunt had been if it's too good to be true, it's because IT IS! But this place, though a little on the small side, was a nice little apartment with lots of natural light and it was in the same neighborhood (which I grew to love in my 3 years living there).

After meeting with the home owner, I practically committed to the place (after finding out that cable AND internet was also included at no additional charge). I was asked to come back to meet the owner's wife. I mentioned that my teaching schedule would prohibit me from stopping by at a reasonable hour in the evenings. We decided to meet later that week on Friday night.

The next day, Monday, after I was hit with a wave of curiosity I quickly browsed through a new list of apartments online. I saw a listing for a 1 BR apartment in Fresh Meadows which intrigued me. I decided to sneak a peek at an apartment in this neighborhood that I was somewhat familiar with since I had friends (Desiree and Carlos) that used to live there. I made an appointment to see the place on Tuesday before my evening class.

There must have been magic in the air that day. Or perhaps it was a convergence of cosmic forces. Something seemed to indicate it was a day I was destined to live through. A feeling more profound than deja vu. The one major surprise I had that day was running into Desiree while waiting for my appointment with the real estate broker. For some reason, she was in her old neighborhood (you see, her and Carlos had moved into their own home away from this area a while ago). She was in her car, her mom was riding shotgun, and her son was in his car seat in the back. I remember asking her what she was doing around there but she ended up asking me about why I was there, she told me about the broker I was meeting up with, and she gave me some tips on what to expect from him. It seemed like an odd coincidence at the time, but I've come to realize that in life we seldom experience mere coincidences. There is typically something more to those 'coincidences'. Why was it that I ran into her then and there, when I haven't seen her or spoken to her (or Carlos even) in several months?

A few minutes later, I was walking into a beautiful, spacious 1 BR apartment that I fell in love with immediately. The rent was reasonable and I liked everything about this place. It was the only apartment I had seen (other than the one in Forest Hills that I had seen a few months before) where I could envision myself living for years to come. Every other apartment I had seen had it's share of pros and cons. Ultimately they were all apartments that I knew I would either outgrow or get tired of living in after several months.

This was not a trivial detail. After all, this was the first apartment where I would be living on my own: my own space; my stuff; occupied by me, myself and I. Finding the right place was a huge decision for me. I've moved so much in my life that all I want is to feel settled, to have a place I can call my home. I didn't want to be hasty about selecting the "right" apartment.

This was the perfect fit. I knew it. Sure enough, in the span of an hour I had run into Des, I saw the apartment, and I was handing over a modest payment which was needed to 'hold' my apartment while they performed a credit and background check.

I remember running back to school that evening and wanting to share the news with someone. I didn't want to keep the news of my major decision to myself. Thankfully, I got to tell the good news to a friend of mine who happened to still be on campus that evening (and it was totally worth being late to my class for!)

Two days later, I was signing my lease (and also violating my #1 rule for apartment hunting, paying a broker's fee).

MY LEASE.

MY... LEASE...

...for my very own apartment. It was a moment of tremendous pride and joy for me.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for the third (and final) part of my story where I regale you with tales from my last week in the old apartment, the move on Halloween weekend, and my first days in the new apartment.

Until next time, faithful reader......

On My Own and Moving Along

I hate moving... Those of you who follow me on Twitter, Facebook, or have been friends with me for years know this about me.

My current situation: I need to move despite loving my current apartment. Both of my roommates have moved out and I simply cannot afford the apartment on my own.

I've looked at a couple of decent places, one really nice apartment, seen a lot of awful listings online, and I'm hoping to get it all sorted out soon (a.k.a. this upcoming week... cross your fingers and toes plz).

I have a couple ideas I'm bouncing around in my head to blog about. But I wanted to assure those of you who have been patiently waiting for my blog entry on Spanglish - you know who you are - that it will post very soon (I'm targeting sometime this beginning of the upcoming week, maybe Monday or Tuesday).

With that being said, I realized the other day that I'd rather not post anything on RaUM if all I have to offer you is an apology for not posting anything and a promise to post after a few days (or weeks). So I'm avoiding that in this entry.

I have to admit that having the apartment to myself is a great idea... on paper. To be honest, the first few days sucked. I missed having someone around. I'd been so used to having some ambient noise in the apartment whether it was during the time that I took care of my mom (financially) for all those years after my parents separated or more recently living with my fiancee (ex-fiancee now). I won't go so far as to say I was depressed but I was definitely melancholy. On those early nights I couldn't go to sleep because it was too quiet. I tried everything from reading, to watching TV, to drinking tea, to playing xBox to exhaustion... nothing worked. I recall seeing the outside world getting a little brighter, as the sun began to rise, just as I managed to SOMEHOW fall asleep. Sometimes being left alone with your thoughts is a TERRIBLE thing.

It's been just about a week now and one of the major adjustments has been getting myself accustomed to make dinner ahead of time. I get home any time between 9 and 10 PM on nights that I teach and, quite frankly, I'm too tired to start whipping up a meal on the spot. The idea of ordering out has been EXTREMELY tempting but I've been good about eating well and have had enough will power to avoid the easy take-out meal for dinner. It's not that I won't do it every now and then but I don't want to fall into the habit of doing it regularly. What I need to do is make several meals on the weekend and re-heat them throughout the week. That way I will always have something to eat. I'll also have some quick fix, on-the-fly type of foods available as well so if I don't feel like eating what I have in the fridge, I can still eat a good meal without resorting to eating food out of a can.

I can now say that I'm finally settling in to the idea of being on my own. It's not a terrible thing (it felt rotten early on) but it certainly will be a work in progress as I discover new things about being alone that I'm not necessarily aware of now: good and bad.

I'd like to hear from you on this topic. Help me figure things out a little, faithful reader. For those of you who have been on your own, what's been the biggest adjustments and/or lifestyle changes you had to deal with? For those of you who have yet to be on your own, what do you most look forward to when you think about living by yourself and what do you think you will miss the most from your current life?

I hope to hear from you soon.

Until next time, faithful reader......