blogging away time...

I found a few drafts of blogs I had started, completed but never posted. Better late than never:)

I have a paper to write. It's due tomorrow. But ya know, I'm not really feeling the academic me is ready for it quite yet. So while I wait for her to meander her way to Microsoft Word I'll entertain myself in the world of blogging with no purpose.

What to write about, I could address the ever-incresing problem of world hunder?....or maybe my quick-fix to international peace?....water conservation?....nah. Water... I fell in a pool once....That's it! I'll talk about my summer in Frisco!

Well I have to tell first why I went. But I can't. There was no reason. I heard about it, thought it'd be fun, and signed up. I can't even explain why I didn't try to recruit people I already knew to come with me, or why I wasn't very anxious at all. It was just something that needed to be done. There were bugs in San Francisco and I needed to kill them.

So I went. Home long enough to do my dirties (for non-Page readers: dirties=laundry). Then on my way. I was a big girl, flying on my own.

That's when I started freaking out.

I was on a plane, by myself. I was going to California, by myself. I would be there for 4 months, by myself. I knew no one I would be living with or working with. In case you've missed it, I would be BY MYSELF.

Now that that (I've always wondered about "that that's." How would you be grammatically correct?) fact is clear...that I was completely by myself, I can move on.

The summer began with a scare and ended with a splash. Both of those verbs are literal. Promise.

Let's start with the scare... For those who have never worked in summer sales or pest control, most salesmen prefer to knock doors in the newer developments. Maybe because new home owners are a little more willing to invest in pest control, security systems or whatever you're selling. Whatever the psychology behind it, I was glad. I preferred to service homes that still smelt (smelled?) new. Unfortunately, one of my sales reps decided he served a greater purpose, forget about preventing pests, he was going to rid the world of them. Where to start? At their nest. It was a little neighborhood lined with condo's built so close together, there wasn't room to fit a lawn mower between them. It's pretty common sense that if your neighbor gets pesticides laid down, bugs move next door. So this sales rep only needed to sign up one house and all the other owners came pouring out clammoring for our services (you'll see why this 'pouring out' is a bad omen in a minute). The sales rep left after finalizing a weeks worth of contracts and I was left to do the dirty work.

The first house wasn't so bad. I needed to lay down a couple glue boards to confirm the type of bug we were dealing with and then I sprayed down the interior and exterior of the house. Second house, same deal but saw a few roaches so I added bait to the mix. Third house... bad news. They had a major roach problem. I realized I needed to find the nest (or at least A nest) these nasty things were coming from. So I started checking the water boxes out in their front yards. Fifth house down the street, I pop it open and all I see are disgusting, vile, HUGE cockroaches climbing all over each other. I pull out the only weapon I had - in retrospect, it wasn't very smart... - my backpack pesticide sprayer and I doused those suckers. I can't emphasize this enough,

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.

Roaches were everywhere. Within seconds they were pouring out of the water box and covering the front lawn. Within minutes, crawling up the walls of houses. Between seconds and minutes... crawling up me. I could feel them crawling up my pants on my bare legs and I kinda lost it. Lost my pants that is. I dropped my pants and ran for the safety of my bug truck. Those were the first pants I lost on the job that summer.

Whew, I'm gonna need a minute to calm down... I HATE roaches.

Now for the splash, this story is a little less intense. And by that I mean I don't get the heebie-jeebies when I tell it. This took place at a gorgeous house, with a gorgeous yard and a gorgeous little family. After making some small talk with the family I went on to start my routine around their house. We always started by dewebbing the eves along the perimeter of the house to get the spiders out to rebuild so they walk through the spray when it's most potent. I like to think I was so incredibly focused on my job that I just didn't see it coming. After taking a quick glance around the backyard I didn't note anything out of the ordinary. My eyes didn't differentiate between the grey of the concrete and the grey of their pool cover...

As I was focusing on getting a particularly stubborn web, I took a few too many steps back, fell on my rump and the 'concrete' started sinking. Extremely confused, I couldn't understand why water was gushing towards me as I was sitting on sinking concrete. Have you ever tried to get out (or off) of a pool cover? Now try it while holding a 15' extendable pole. Yeah, I coulda won America's Funniest Home Video's with this scene. You can imagine the looks I recieved as I calmly rang their doorbell and explained that I would need to come back tomorrow to finish their service as I was clearly sopping wet.

There were certainly more stories that I wish I had documented as they happened, staring a rat dead in the eyes in a creepy old attic, fogging a house, then turning around and seeing the owner stading behind me with no respiratory gear on, the list could go on and on. But these were the two stories that I feel sum up my summer doing pest control.