I'll Procrastinate Later.

In the fourteen-or-so months (YIKES!) since I last posted, things have happened (as they are wont to do). Things I meant to sit down and write about but lacked the focus needed to apply myself to the task. Incidentally, "lacks the focus needed to apply himself" was a regular note my teachers left in my report cards back in the day.

Some things, you never outgrow.

Sure, I can make a lot of excuses as to why I didn't have time to blog. Tons of them! I could talk about how hard things got with my slow crawl to a Mass Communications degree and how not getting enough sleep didn't really seem like a problem in my thirties but my forties don't like it so much (I'd just turned forty when I last posted and hadn't truly started to feel the effects). At the end of the day, though, I just kept putting it all off.

That doesn't discredit the other things that have happened, however.

For one thing, school is tough on a working adult! A lot of you can attest to this. I reached the point where I suffered clear sings of burnout and developed a acute aversion to sitting down to do my assignments. Too bad you don't get to just throw your hands up and quit and still call yourself a proper adult. I totally would have done that, believe me.

So there was that... but the main thing that was giving me an excuse to put off writing was the flood.

Yup! Flood.

And I'm not talking about a flooded bathroom again. I mean a real, honest-to-goodness, house-under-water deluge.

Coming down to the end of last October - four days after our fifteenth wedding anniversary - Mrs C and I lost pretty much all our material possessions to a massive flood. Nearly everything we had accumulated over those fifteen years was gone after two days of freakishly heavy rain that left our community (as well as many other parts of our tropical paradise) under water for nearly two more days.

In our house the water got as high as five feet while others in other parts of our community saw as much as ten feet. I can't say we were the lucky ones, though. Be it five feet or ten, if you live in a flat everything you own is toast. Soggy, muddy toast.

Alas, poor Adella! I hardly knew ye!

Mrs C and I weren't home, fortunately. The rain caused a traffic nightmare in most of the country and, as a result, we were stranded in the capital where we both work. Kawaii - you remember Kawaii, right? - was the only one home and she was able to swim to safety and wait out the flood on top someone's pickup. The little so-and-so actually came right back to our street the same day all the the water had finally receded and met up with us when we were finally

able to get back in.

After several months and thousands of dollars, however, we were able to finally get back to some semblance of the life we had (though we still haven't replaced the TV and dinner table).

In some good news, I have finished with school (without having to throw my hands up and quit). By November I'll graduate and have my very own bachelor's degree! Not so comforting is the fact that, nowadays, everybody and his brother have degrees so to even consider myself marketable I'll have to jack back in and go for my master's.

Later.

My Brain Can't Ever Be Left Unsupervised.

Sunday morning I was lying in bed, trying to force myself to go back to sleep, I hate getting up too early on a weekend and since I had no intention of getting up before at least Monday I decided I’d just lie there until sleep came back.

That has to work sometimes right?

Anyway, I was lying there and I decided to let my brain go on ahead and do whatever it wanted without me in the hope that it would be too distracted to notice when sleep crept back in. I tried not to focus on any kind of actual thought so it would get all excited and start thinking. Brains are like that. They always want to think at inappropriate times like when you’re trying to go to sleep. But it was during this time of letting my brain get distracted with all kinds of random thoughts, that this thought in particular suddenly happened.

“I bet I could totally kill a chicken!”

Yeah...

With that, my brain had something to latch on to and all hopes of sleep were gone.

Before you start wondering, there was an actal train of thought that led me to this statement. It’s not like I lie awake, thinking of who or what I’d be able to kill.

Beat up, maybe, but not kill.

Of course, even I had to retrace my brain’s steps to figure out where this thought in particular came from, since I wasn’t really paying attention to what it was doing. When I was able to get to the original thought that set this train in motion, it all made perfect sense.

“It’s all the internet’s fault I don’t get enough sleep.”

See? That makes things a whole lot clearer now, doesn’t it? If you’re not following (and I don’t see how you couldn’t be) I’ll break it down for you. It’s like this:

To date, the internet as we all know, is one of the greatest advances in technology known to man. I dare say it ranks right up there with double-sided tape and the Japanese Butter Stick.

The internet is also the greatest distraction known to man. One of my lecturers even said that the internet is also guilty of diminishing the attention span of today’s society. At least, I think that’s what he said. The dude was going on and on and I was starting to get bored. He really needs to learn how to take his rants down to 140 characters or less.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Chickens!

See, with the internet being the distraction it is, I more often than not, find myself choosing stay awake just a little bit longer so I can keep up with all the fun distractions the worldwide web has to offer. When I end up exhausted as a result, I sometimes wonder what the world would be like, not just without it, but without all the other newfangled doodads we have and the entire way of life to which we’ve grown accustomed.

I'd imagine there was some kind of apocalyptic event which would basically send us all back to the stone-age, technology wise. There’d be no more smartphones, or television, or any other of the modern conveniences and we didn’t have a choice but to actually “go outside” and “do things”. Of course, there’d be no fast food restaurants or convenience stores either, so finding food would require actually finding your own food... and possibly killing it and cooking it all on your own too.

This is where the chickens would come in. I figured at least a few of them would probably survive the apocalypse and unless there was some kind of radioactive mutation issue and chickens became vicious, man-eating beasts, I think  those would be easy enough to take on.

Or not...

Of course, I went on to formulating the proper technique for getting the job done with minimal blood spatter and creepy headless panicked bird running around. Then I thought about what the best way would be to get all the feathers off. I wasn’t sure, but figure I’d better look that up before the apocalypse took Google away.

That's how I came to the conclusion that I totally could do if I had to. I just need the circumstances to be just right for me to rise to the occassion.

Me Vs. Nature Part IV - Revenge Of The Grackle.

Just like with the job I had about a year and a half ago, I now work close enough to where I go to school that I can walk from one point to the other in less than 20 minutes, even if I take my time and walk slowly. I consider it my cardio for the week, plus it saves me on taxi fare, so why not? Right?

Still, it is the dry season again and the sun has been out with a vengeance the last few weeks, so I recently started taking the scenic route, which in this case, ironically, is the shorter of the two main routes to get to class. This route takes me down a street that runs alongside an area known as George the 5th Park, which allows pedestrians to walk under a series of the trees, lining the sidewalk. On the southern side of that street, however, there are some houses and businesses and The Oval, a really large sporting ground used mostly for cricket matches. That takes up about half of that side.

Now you know.

The Oval's walled off like a maximum security prison, sans the guard towers and razor wire and so it's kind of boring and you get more of the blistering sun on that side of the street, so I prefer to stick to the other side with the cool shady trees, some of which start to show their colors off at this time of year, like this Pink Poui tree:

My apologies to all of you who are currently not enjoying the snow wherever you are that are forced to watch this.

Pretty, right?

There is a down side to all this, though. Where there are a lot of trees, there will probably be a lot of Grackles. I've mentioned these guys before. They're tiny black birds that get very territorial around this time of year and attack anyone who comes too close to their nesting spots. They seem to favor attacking me.

Nothing personal, bub... I still kill you.
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How they normally do their thing is to swoop down at the heads of passers-by from behind, squawk and then fly back to the safety of a nearby tree. They'll continue doing this until they're satisfied the intruder is well enough away from their territory. You might think they're brave, but I've observed them running from pigeons, which is kind of insulting, if you ask me. Since I don't particularly like being made to duck like a crazy person in the streets every time I suddenly hear that high-pitched "Squawk!" behind my head, I prefer to avoid them.

Then I found the solution to all my problems.

With the birds anyway...

It was purely by accident. The other day, I was on my way to class as usual. I wasn't even thinking about my feathered nemesis at the time and had my music cranked up through my headphones as I made my way. I was also distracted by the text conversation I was having with my wife at the time. It was then I looked up from my phone and noticed my shadow in front of me and an even tinier shadow of a Grackle that was repeatedly swooping down from the trees. I was almost to the end of the Park so I could only assume it had been trying to get my attention for some time, but I hadn't even noticed it until then and not once was I forced to duck or dodge his assault.

AT LAST!!! I found my answer. Music! Music loud enough that it prevented me from hearing the fluttering wings and the annoying "Squawk!" that would force me to look like an idiot in the streets. That was my answer. From here on in I knew what I had to do. So the next day, I was ready. I decided the shorter, scenic route was mine and no tiny bird was going to deter me ever again. I would have the shade of the trees. I would have the shorter walk. I would not be denied! I walked down the street and, as I came up to the trees, I saw a Grackle take up position.

"Hey, Mr. Grackle'" I thought smugly, "You here to try your luck? Betcha won't spook me. Betcha I don't even notice ya."

I may have been enjoying this a little too much.

I continued my walk and turned my MP3 player on my phone up. I wasn't even going to look out for him. In my mind, I had already won against the dreaded bird, so why bother paying attention to his fruitless efforts. The Grackle was now beneath my noticing.

Or not.

Here we have a saying: Who doh hear, does feel.

Apparently, Grackles also practice this policy since, I hadn't made it more than a few steps before I felt its talons on the back of my head.

And I ducked.

Son of a....

The Grackle will not be ignored, it seems. I guess he figured he would try harder this time around to get my attention. It looks like the bird is more persistent than I thought. I looked up and he perched himself up in a nearby tree waiting to strike again, watching me with his beady little eyes and daring me to continue. I decided to admit defeat and crossed over to the other side of the street, away from the trees. I don't get enough sun anyway.

This round went to the bird.

Me Vs. Nature: Part III - The Bugman Cometh.

Remember a while back when I mentioned a little bug problem we've been having from time to time? Well, since then we haven't really been having as much of a problem. Only some minor incursions. I take full credit for this since I've been making healthy use of our bug spray and doing some preemptive spraying every other night.

However, the next door neighbors have apparently not been so lucky, and voiced their concerns to the landlady. Plus, they have two small children so they understandably don't want cockroaches running around. The landlady, in turn, called in a pest control guy, who came over to do an inspection last week. Is it just me, or do people in general feel the overwhelming urge to make sure their homes are spotless when they know someone's coming by to do any kind of inspection? Especially if that inspection is to determine how welcome they're making the household pests feel.

Anyway, I digress. The exterminator visited and did his walkthrough. He asked how bad our roach problem was and a series of other routine questions. I answered and things went mostly uneventful. The only surprise was the one I sprung on them.

Me: Oh yeah. And that's where I saw the mouse.

Bug Guy: Mouse?
Landlady: Mouse?

Did I mention the mice? Yeah. Coincidentally, we started seeing them just a few days before Bug Guy's visit. It seems that not only did the construction going on next door bring us roaches, now mice are coming across looking for greener pastures. Outstanding! Bug Guy agreed that was the most likely scenario. He added that to his notes and left soon after that.

Two weeks later (today in fact) he was back. He sprayed what I could only assume some kind invisible roach repellent while I took the opportunity to showcase my social ineptitude by making awkward attempts at small-talk. Is it still considered proper exterminator/repair guy etiquette to follow them around as they do whatever it is they came to do and pretend you find it interesting, while making sure they don't steal anything? We don't get visitors often.

Anyhoo, after that he brought in a box of these little 'mouse motels' (that's what I'm calling them because I don't know what they're really called) and set them up in the different rooms where the vermin were sighted.

With that he said was done with the inside of the house and, as he was leaving, he told me we were not to move the mouse motels UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. He made a point of saying it twice.

Then, about two seconds after he left, I accidentally kicked one. Only a little. It barely even moved. Honest!

The final phase of the process involved him going under the house (the cockroach base of operations) to deliver a massive payload of insecticide. What he didn't mention is that when he did this, hordes of panicked cockroaches would be fleeing for safety. In fact, they'd be so freaked out, they'd most likely totally ignore the repellent he just put down and come scampering inside. I guess I probably could have figured out that last part myself.

In the end I had to spend the next hour and a half dealing with them (about eight of the little buggers in total). I was practically typing this post with my left hand while holding a can of bug spray with my right.

At least I finally learned I could multitask.

Me Vs. Nature: Part II - Natural Enemy.

MONDAY - 2:21AM: I sit, unable to sleep. Sleep was taken from me tonight by the incursion of an old enemy. Hopefully, by the time you're reading this I'll finally be able to go to bed. I suppose I'd better start at the beginning.

Mrs. C and I had settled down for bed. The lights were off, the room was cozy, everything was right. Sleep didn't come as quickly as it normally would, but eventually I began to feel consciousness slowly slip away. Like an old movie reel slowly whirring into operation, the random images that would be my dreams began to flicker in my mind. Sleep was coming, and I gladly welcomed it.

...

But this was not to last. From the part of my mind that was still semi-conscious, I could sense a disturbance. This was further emphasized when heard my wife next to me growl in frustration. It was then I came to just enough to hear what it was. Something had gotten all the dogs on the street riled up and they were all barking their heads off. Not the first time. I decided to ignore it and apparently so did Mrs. C.

Soon the lights in my brain began to flicker again as images began to fill my subconscious. I wasn't fully asleep when I felt it. A prickly feeling move across the back of my hand. In the dark my eyes opened as I flung my hand upward. That's right! A COCKROACH had just run across my hand!

*Shudder*.

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I knew what it was instantly. At that moment, all it took was one fluid motion for me to be up, out of bed and flicking on the light switch. At this point I should point out that I'm not one to go into a panic when I see one of these things, but I will not - under any circumstances - tolerating them actually touching me. All this stems from something that happened a long time ago. An event that has been indelibly etched into my brain and may forever haunt me...

You see (*lays down on couch, clasps hands on chest and looks up at ceiling*) it all began when I was about 5 years old. I remember it well. I was getting ready for bed and putting my PJs. I had just buttoned up my shirt when I felt this strange prickling sensation on my stomach. Curious, I undid the buttons to see what was the cause of this sensation and there, running up my little chest, you can guess... Our gazes met, I shrieked, it flew away. I've been scarred since. It was a brief encounter but, since then, I've made it my mission to kill any of these creatures once they dared to venture into my personal space.

You understand.

Anyway, during this most recent encounter, my movements woke Mrs. C just enough to ask me what had happened. I told her what was going on and she, not being overly concerned, pulled her covers again.

I know, right? You'd think she'd at least be worried, especially since the hand the bug crawled over was the one that was thrown over her shoulder, which meant it was only inches from her face. Nothing! She wanted to sleep and nothing was going to stop her. Or at least she tried to. When she realized I wasn't taking the light off until I found the bug, she decided to use the opportunity to go to the bathroom.

It didn't take me long to find it. I've discovered over the years that cockroaches aren't very good at hiding when they're spooked and usually scamper around the place like crazy. This time was no exception. I grabbed a slipper and brought its existence to a quick end. By the time Mrs. C came back into the room I was already back in bed, satisfied that I had made the world a safer place. My wife, however, just gave me this kinda look and nodded before she flipped the light off again.

Honestly, she should have been thanking me. No appreciation whatsoever!

We settle in again. Several minutes passed as we lay in the dark. Satisfied that the ordeal was over I tried not to let the earlier excitement get to me and waited for sleep to come. Then... I heard a familiar fluttering.

Me: Son of a bitch!

Mrs. C: What?

Me: Another one just flew right above my head!

Mrs. C: GROAN!!!

Needless to say, the light was again. Only, this time Mrs C didn't bother to get up. She decided she was going to leave me to face my demons alone. This new invader was smarter than the last one and stayed hidden. After a few minutes I decided to call it quits and go back to bed. But it was no good. Did you know that if it's quiet enough, you can head them scurrying about? Well if you didn't, yes, you most certainly can. It was decided. I wasn't getting to sleep this night.

The cause? My best guess is that, for the first time in days, it rained yesterday. And this wasn't just any sprinkle either. The rains came early in the morning, poured for a long time and never really stopped until evening. Even when it lightened up, it continued all day. This, I suspect drove them from the vacant overgrown lot next door, seeking drier ground. Our open window was just the invitation they needed.

As for me, I got up, grabbed the can of bug spray and went into the living room where I surfed the web until sunrise. I couldn't spray the room since Mrs. C is still peacefully asleep in there so here I am. The bug spray is in case they decide to follow me outside too.

I'll sleep when the sun comes up. I'll be safe then.

Wordless Wednesday: They Only Come Out At Night.

Vines.

Vines grow everywhere in our backyard.

They spread quickly and can thrive in the worst conditions. And, of course, they're hard to get rid of. When I think I've pulled them all, there's this one tiny root stuck in a crack in the wall that's waiting until the coast is clear to spread again. It's a never ending fight.

Vines can only feed off the strength of others. If there no other plants or anything else to cling to, no matter how far they spread, they're stuck on the ground. But when they find a plant, or wall, or anything that rises above them, they grab onto it, hold it tight and follow it up as far as it goes.

Some people are like vines. When someone starts growing on your own strength they try to latch onto you and climb as far as your efforts will take them.

But vines are smart. They've learned they can't totally choke you out. They've realized they can't reach the heights they want to if you're not there to keep them up. They need you. So they let you continue to grow. But your growth is slowed now because your vines are weighing you down.

The irony is, when vines do reach as high as they need to, they actually have the potential to achieve something, in their own small way and finally get the attention they want.

Vines are survivors. You can't argue that. But it's a sad existence. They can only shine if they can climb up on the shoulders of others.

The Time I May Have Set In Motion The End Of Mankind...

I've mentioned our little war we've had going on with the ants that seem to be in such large numbers around here. We've managed to get the situation under control (and our electric kettle working again) but the war with them is ongoing and one of the things that we always have to look out for is any food left out in the open. It's weird but that seems to attract a lot more of them.

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Usually, when we go into the kitchen, at least one or two the little buggers are always there, scouting for any carelessly exposed food to run home and tell the others about. And they don't miss a thing. To deal with this, we rely a lot on either putting things into sealed containers or in the fridge, but that practice isn't always followed.

Like last night. Someone left the bread out on the counter and, as you may have guessed, they found it and they were loving it. Since it was just the last bit of it, I wasn't too broken up about tossing it...

But then, you see, I kinda had this bright idea...

Before I tossed the bread, ants and all, I... thought... I'd just... putthebreadinthemicrowaveandkilltheantsfirst! Just for a few seconds.

Anyway, it didn't work. Thirty seconds later, I took it out and they were still scurrying around all over that bread. The only difference now was the bread was warmer and this was starting to get their attention, but they weren't really trying to get away. So I put it back in again. This time, I gave it 45 seconds more.

DON'T JUDGE ME!

By the way, did you know that bread does this weird, melty thing when you nuke it for too long. I did *not* know that.

To my surprise, the ants still survived, but they definitely didn't want any more of that bread. I guess at this point, it must have felt like trudging through hot, white mud. I forgot about them for a few seconds as I examined the new gooey consistency of the bread and hadn't noticed most of them were getting away. Many even made it back to the crevices and cracks that provide them safe passage around the kitchen.

It didn't occur to me until after that I had just exposed them to all those microwaves and sent them back to mingle with the rest of the colony. So if there's some new ant-borne super virus sweeping the earth in the near future, um, my bad.

Worse yet is if the ants develop super intelligence and begin waging war on human kind. I mean, they're already way too organized as is. Have you seen the video that shows the inside of an ant colony?

No way these things should be made any smarter!

This one's totally on me, guys! Whatever comes, just know I accept full responsibility and they'll probably come after me first for killing so many of their brethren in our earlier skirmishes anyway.