Exploring Castles...

This has been the most peculiar week. I can't say it's been bad, because it hasn't. It's actually been quite...dare I say it...good. Of course, I didn't have to say goodbye to any family pets so that's always a bonus but, even with work....things have been good.

I'm starting to worry that, as I said to my mother tonight, I'm drinking the Kool Aid. Work is starting to be...tolerable even, gulp, ok. I could go further than 'ok' but that would be gushing...for me, anyway.

Today marked the one-year anniversary of our "independence." We were sold by a University and bought by a Trust. It's been a weird year. I've gone through every emotion through raging hatred to hysterical amusement.

As far as my job goes, I've been with our company for a year and a half. I feel like over the past two weeks, I've found my real footing. Because I have trust issues, I worry that it's just an illusion but I'd really like to think it's the start of something good or, at least, better. As a good friend reminded me, when I started my last job at USC, I hated it and went through the seething-hatred-to-pure-enjoyment cycle. When I left, I loved my job. When I'd started, I hated it.

I'm seeing the same cycle here although I hate to admit it. It's possible that it really is a temporary thing but I'd like to believe it means that I've finally figured out where I fit and I'm going to do my darndest to make sure I stay there. It could, of course, mean that I'm terrified of this crappy economy and being out of work but the optimist in me really believes that it's not.

It's odd to be writing this. Less than a month ago, I was mocking my job and my company. I'm still willing to mock, don't get me wrong. I still don't like the Most Optimistic Bathroom in the World or the fact that the popcorn maker is worth more than the value of my pathetic old television. However, I do like the fact that my boss has been talking to me. I like the fact that I've managed to fight inevitable bitterness and emerge on the side of Zen. I like the fact that I can drive eight minutes from home to work in the mornings. I don't like that that I'm on the same timetable as the local school buses but I'm learning to deal with that.

I think the scary thing is it's another sign of that alarming step into adulthood. It doesn't matter so much to me that my job is everything, that I have to be happy in the hours in which I truly earn my paycheck. It's a bonus, definitely but it's not required. I'm learning that what does matter is that I can afford to pay my mortgage and drive home to see my family. What matters is that I get to see my three-year-old niece and be the person who's crazy enough to bash her head on the dining room chairs as I help her explore her "castle" which, to grown ups, translates as underneath the table but, to her, is a kingdom of wonder. I get to see her grow a little taller each time I see her. When I lived in L.A., I'd see her so infrequently that it was as though she'd swallowed some of Jack's Magic Beans and grown from a baby into a giant. These days, I see her often enough that I'm no longer the mythical aunt but a real, physical part of her life. Bashing my head is nothing- despite the pain, exploring her castle is fun.

I like that. I think I'm actually liking knowing that my job isn't my life. My life is about family, friends, getting my book published and the possibility of finding a dog that will love me. It's pretty simple really. Ask me a few years ago and I would have said that I was on a quest to find that job that WAS me, that represented me, that showed the world how fabulous I am.

Jaded as it might sound, I don't need that now. Don't get me wrong, I still crave affirmation and praise, just as most humans do. However, I also know that, mostly, it's internal. If I feel confident and content then....I am.

Which is why I'm going to choose to accept the past week's contentment at work for what it is: A good thing. It may pass, it might last. Yet, for now, I'll take it, simple as that. If it doesn't work out...well, I can still explore castles and write books.

Happy Friday

Ladybird, Ladybird, Fly Away Home

It's Monday again. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we changed the week a little and reorganized all the days. I mean, what if we decided to go backwards and rename Monday to Friday? Would it still feel like a Monday morning or would it be better because it was Friday? I suppose it goes back to that eternal 'what's in a name' thing. I suppose we could rename all the days completely and have things like Daffodil or Chocolate. Then you could say, "I have a meeting at nine a.m. on Daffodil morning," or "let's have happy hour at 5 p.m. on Chocolate." It has a much nicer ring to it than Monday, doesn't it?

I realize I might have let you in a little too far into my psyche. You'll be thinking I'm weird. We can't have that now, can we?

Anyway, so the title of this blog has to do with ladybirds, ladybugs as they're known in these Midwestern parts. My problem is that they are everywhere at the moment. I live in an apartment building. I've had my windows open because it's been nice and warm lately but I have screens on the windows. I have a patio door but I always have the screen across it unless it's for the twenty seconds it takes for me to go through out onto my little balcony. So, really, there isn't any open spaces in which lady birds can get into my apartment.

Except they do. They're everywhere. Yesterday, I had a horrid little gathering of the creatures in the upper corner of my room. And by a gathering, I mean there were about fifteen of them, just huddled there. You know in those horror films in which a giant bug is the villain and there's always that evil little fluttering sound like a giant moth's wings beating together? Well, that's what it sounded like in my room. There were more of the little bugs, crawling on my ceiling, on their way to join The Gathering. I looked and there were more on my blinds. It was not pleasant.

Here's the thing. I appreciate ladybirds. I appreciate the fact they eat the nasty bugs that are bad for us. I appreciate the fact that they're cute little things and I especially appreciated them when Denis Leary does the voice of them like in A Bugs Life. They one of the nicer bugs that could invade my apartment.

Except they were having a swarm and I despise swarms. I can handle a few bugs together. Yet swarms....well, they disturb me. A lot. In my previous apartment, we had an ant infestation. I kept finding ants alone. I didn't like them but I was ok with that. Then I accidentally found their source and...well...it was nasty. There were thousands of them. I had a bit of a girly screaming fit. Thank goodness for my roommate who was brave enough to drown the creatures for me. It took me weeks before I wasn't constantly on the lookout for more ants, just in case it would lead to a swarm.

Ladybirds aren't as bad as ants because they're not so sly. They don't creep around in the dark spaces and then crawl on you when you're least expecting it. At least, I don't think so. I just don't like it when they get together. I'm a bit suspicious by nature and I like to know what's going on. I like to know what's in a box. I like to find out the source of that scary noise. I like to know what time guests are going to drop by. You get the idea. When there's a gathering inside my apartment, I'd like to know what it's about. So when the ladybirds are clustering suspiciously in my bedroom, I have to know why.

So I looked it up on the internet because it wasn't like the stupid bugs were going to tell me what they were doing. It turns out that infestations of ladybirds are very common in the Midwest during this time of year. Apparently, since it's winter, they are looking for a place to hibernate and so they invade homes. The strongest advice on the internet was to search and destroy.

I could have figured this out for myself, obviously. But I'm an internet junkie and I like to research. It's nice to know the truth, even if it's from Wikipedia.

At first, I wasn't sure if I could kill them. I mean, they don't mean any harm. Ok, so apparently they smell bad if they gather together. Apparently, they make a bit of a mess with that yellow goo they emit. But they fairly peaceful creatures.

And then I read that occasionally, they do swarm at people, especially when threatened. I took another look at The Gathering. It had become at least 20 ladybirds. I pictured them flying at me, landing on me all at once and that's when I decided they should probably go away. Also, I have some of those lamps that have a curved shade that points at the ceiling. I looked in there and discoved quite a few ladybirds had either gone there to die, committed suicide by throwing themselves on a hot lightbulb or been murdered by their own kind. Also, I had begun finding corpses around my apartment and I realize that they would never live in my place during the winter without succumbing to the dark shadow of Death.

So, I decided to aid them. I scooped up as many as I could. Not from The Gathering of course because that would have meant getting close to a lot of ladybirds all at once and I wasn't ready for that. But there were some stragglers and so I scooped them up and led them to the freedom of the outdoor air. The only vaguely alarming experience during this was that I got a bit avid in my scooping; I saw something crawling in my lamp and I came very close to scooping that up too. Fortunately, I hesitated and that's when I realized that it was a spider. It wasn't big and so I wasn't too alarmed but I also wasn't about to scoop it up. I've watched too many DEADLIEST SPIDER! episodes on Animal Planet or the Discovery Channel. So I looked that up. It turned out to be a jumping spider, common to Ohio. I was ok with that when I realized it wasn't venomous. At first. Then the word "jumping" registered and I pictured myself sleeping and having that little jumping fiend land on my head. So, he had to go too.

I hate killing spiders. My philosophy is that it's not their fault they scare us. They're just doing their thing, being a spider. It doesn't mean I'm about to keep them as pets and feed them though. So, I always attempt to let them go alive. Unfortunately, this involves scooping and putting them into a little container of some sort with a lid and WAY too many spiders have me their maker when I've been skittish enough to accidentally squish them in my rescue attempt.

Fortunately, Mr. Jumping Spider managed to get out alive. I scooped him up without squishing him and let him go on the patio below mine. I even watched to make sure I didn't kill him by dropping him a storey more than I had planned. He crawled away so I assume he's ok.

So, then it was time to tackle The Gathering. I used a very effective method called The Vacuum Cleaner Method. It involves plugging the vacuum in, putting the extender thingy on the hose, turning on the power and sucking away at cluster of bugs. They vanished into the dark passage of the vacuum cleaner. When I turned it off, there were a couple that had somehow managed to avoid being sucked into the Pit of the Vacuum Bag despite the tornado-like suction coming from the vacuum cleaner. They tried to crawl out of the hose. I turned the vacuum on and voila! No more bugs. I put a paper towel into the end of the pipe, per a very clever suggestion I'd read on the internet, just in case the creatures try to crawl out. I found some more stragglers but I'm now pleased to report that my apartment seems to be ladybird-free.

The only problem is that I feel a bit guilty about what I did. It's not their fault they're ladybirds. I just worried that they were gather together, rise up against me and swarm. So I had to stop them.

That's probably what Hitler said. I don't think I like comparing myself to Hitler. I think I may go home and change my vacuum cleaner bag tonight and give those creatures a chance to go free. Just in case.

Happy Monday.