So I guess because I lived out in the woods for a year and a half, I've been letting the bugs run free in my house. Well . . . I sucked them all up when I did the initial vacuuming of the place. Since I was only borrowing that vacuum, though, I haven't been doing much sucking lately (at least of bugs, he he). The spiders quickly reappeared, taking back their positions in various corners, in that spot behind my toilet, and attaching themselves to new items that have been too long leaning against the wall. I don't mind them so much, the spiders. They're of the not-too-big-or-black-or-juicy household variety, and I figure they're getting rid of other bugs I don't want in my house.

The other day there was this large black beetle who was making a bit of a nuisance of himself--flying around, crashing into the walls--you know the type. He decided to light on my CDs, which I took as a personal affront. So I took the book I was reading, Hotel Du Lac (a good use for this book I decided), and tried to swat him. I was unsuccessful in my first and second attempt, merely wounding him. So I non-chalantly walked to the bathroom and grabbed a piece of toilet tissue, scooped him up, being careful not to crush him, and deposited him into the toilet. He struggled out of the toilet paper and began scrambling up the side of the toilet. Flush. I wasn't sure, but I think he was having fun as he rode the cyclone of water down into the pipes. Maybe he survived, taking over the realm of the underground sewage. Ruling with an iron fist. You never can tell with a beetle.

About 20 minutes later, a cricket decided to jump right up into my body space. I let him live. Crickets aren't that bad. Sometimes they help me sleep at night.