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Someone Call Ripley's or Something!!!1!!
Posted by Miz B
on
Thursday, February 03, 2011
I know the is not, unfortunately, the post you've all been waiting for, but since everybody's a little starved for news at the moment and because I was so tired I started narrating this incident in my head the minute it started, I thought what a waste not to write it out, right? Here goes:
I woke myself up on accident at about 5am, which was, sigh, only about 45 minutes ago. I lay in introspective silence for a couple of minutes, meditating on the coming day (i.e. swearing in my head that it's the first day back at school today, and fighting not to look at the clock to see how long I had), when I realized I was not alone (dun dun DUN - stick with me, folks). There was a very definite sound of chewing coming from the right corner under the window. BTW, that's about 3 feet away from my head. Now, I should first of all point out that I am not squeamish. I have worked summers in a zoo for the last 5 plus years. Heck, I practically LIVE in a zoo back home. But while I can handle ants, mosquitoes, snakes, cockroaches, and even mice without any problem, rats give me pause. Rats fight back. I've been bit by rats before, and that friggin hurts. Plus, those were lab rats. God knows what the average Mexican house rat is carrying. Needless to say, I froze, and than spent a good, slightly sleep-addled three mintutes trying to decide what to do. Eventually, I made a break for the door and the lightswitch, on the off chance that would scare it off (like THAT'S ever worked). I waited for 5 minutes. Didn't work. I went to the kitchen for the broom (scaring the bejeezus out of my host mother on her way back from the bathroom, I might add). I wacked around the general area from 4 feet away and on the bed. I should note, I wasn't actually that worried that the rodent-creature was in the house, or even in the room. I've lived with some sort of small hairy creature in my house for my whole life, so from experience, I was a lot more worried the little bugger was either in my dirty clothes hamper or my shoes. I had a $50 pair of high heels and my favorite jeans on the line, after all.
Meanwhile, the noise had stopped. I had liberally wacked the area, so I figured whoever was over there probably knew I was awake. The lights were still on, and it was well on the way to 5:30 at this point. I should note that I'd been on brake for more than 2 weeks. This was the earliest I'd been up in a long time. I layed down on the bed (feet pulled in. I'm not stupid, I've watched all those crazy vintage Mexican horror films). I was almost asleep when something very definetly rustled, this time from my trash can. Actually, I don't have a trash can, I have a big gift bag left over from my birthday, which is full of trash. I was fairely certain it had nothing but crumbled paper and Kleenex in it, and spent another 3 sleep-addled minutes trying to decide both how to proceed, and if whatever was in that bag might be interested in the *ahem* dried contents of a Kleenex. Suddenly, I realized I was sitting on my bed at 5 in the morning in my PJ's, sitting on my bed with my legs underneath me, holding a broom and staring at a corner that may or may not have contained some small, hairy, completely freaked out little creature. I spent a little while being properly ashamed, than decided there was no way in hell I was going to fight this in my PJ's, and since I was good and woken up by this point, I might as well get up and get ready for school. Keeping an eye on the offending corner, I got into my annoying school uniform, thanking god for the first and last time that the mandatory Mary Jane's were hefty enough to use as a makeshift hammer. I grabbed the broom, tipped the bag over, and sorted through all the trash on the floor. Whew. Nothing there. I had gotten a plastic bag, leaned over, and was about halfway done with putting all the trash into it to take out to the outside can when I looked to the right in time to see something small, drak, scuttly and really freaked out make a break from one end of the overturned 'garbage can' to the other. Now, at this point we are going to utilize one of the coolest side-effects of human evolution- our imaginations. We are going to believe that I calmly got to my feet, calmly left the room, and calmly stood in the hall for a little while while I decided what to do next. I re-entered the room, gathered up the bag with the help of the long-suffering broom, and transported it carefully to the bag patio and into the happily waiting care of our aproximately 100 lb. German Shepherd to shred ten kinds of crap out of it. Then I went back into the house to finish getting ready and eat breakfast.
That's where the story ends, right? Boy, I wish.
See, the behavior of the thing in the bag made me think it was not very coordinated and couldn't climb at all. I was halfway to convincing myslef I had just fed Zeus (the Shepherd) a baby rat or something, and I was almost feeling a little guilty; and it would have ended like that if I hadn't realized I forgot my school tie on my desk, which is incidentally located right next to the previous location of the ill-fated garbage can. I reached for the tie and for probably the 85th time that morning scared the crap out of something small, dark, scuttly, and freaked out. Something which was standing or sitting or waiting right next to my hand. Thing is, the lights in my room kind of suck. So through my...we're going to use our imaginations again and call it suprise, and the little basterds swift movement, I actually never got a descent look at it as it took off back across the desk and off the edge behind it (therebye refuting my rat theory). At this point, I decided I had had enough, so I grabbed my backpack, calmly shut the door and calmly went off to the kitchen to make breakfast.
So that's my story, folks. It was small, scrabbly, black and not a rat.
Yes, ladies and gents, I have finally found the elusive baby chupacabra. Just thought someone should tell science or something.
Expect a more coherent post that wasn't almost completely typed on my replaced Kindle's (!!) internet function at 6am while I was waiting for the bacon to cook and wondering why the middle burner on the stove occasionally spends 10+ minutes at a time making a sound like it's auditioning to be a jet engine.
Note: The picture is not a chupacabra, it's actually a baby Aye Aye. They're very endangered, and, I think, kind of cute in a pathetic way. Also possibly related to Joe. Oh, you don't believe me? It's so hairy! And take a good look at those eyes. Tell me I'm wrong.
I woke myself up on accident at about 5am, which was, sigh, only about 45 minutes ago. I lay in introspective silence for a couple of minutes, meditating on the coming day (i.e. swearing in my head that it's the first day back at school today, and fighting not to look at the clock to see how long I had), when I realized I was not alone (dun dun DUN - stick with me, folks). There was a very definite sound of chewing coming from the right corner under the window. BTW, that's about 3 feet away from my head. Now, I should first of all point out that I am not squeamish. I have worked summers in a zoo for the last 5 plus years. Heck, I practically LIVE in a zoo back home. But while I can handle ants, mosquitoes, snakes, cockroaches, and even mice without any problem, rats give me pause. Rats fight back. I've been bit by rats before, and that friggin hurts. Plus, those were lab rats. God knows what the average Mexican house rat is carrying. Needless to say, I froze, and than spent a good, slightly sleep-addled three mintutes trying to decide what to do. Eventually, I made a break for the door and the lightswitch, on the off chance that would scare it off (like THAT'S ever worked). I waited for 5 minutes. Didn't work. I went to the kitchen for the broom (scaring the bejeezus out of my host mother on her way back from the bathroom, I might add). I wacked around the general area from 4 feet away and on the bed. I should note, I wasn't actually that worried that the rodent-creature was in the house, or even in the room. I've lived with some sort of small hairy creature in my house for my whole life, so from experience, I was a lot more worried the little bugger was either in my dirty clothes hamper or my shoes. I had a $50 pair of high heels and my favorite jeans on the line, after all.
Meanwhile, the noise had stopped. I had liberally wacked the area, so I figured whoever was over there probably knew I was awake. The lights were still on, and it was well on the way to 5:30 at this point. I should note that I'd been on brake for more than 2 weeks. This was the earliest I'd been up in a long time. I layed down on the bed (feet pulled in. I'm not stupid, I've watched all those crazy vintage Mexican horror films). I was almost asleep when something very definetly rustled, this time from my trash can. Actually, I don't have a trash can, I have a big gift bag left over from my birthday, which is full of trash. I was fairely certain it had nothing but crumbled paper and Kleenex in it, and spent another 3 sleep-addled minutes trying to decide both how to proceed, and if whatever was in that bag might be interested in the *ahem* dried contents of a Kleenex. Suddenly, I realized I was sitting on my bed at 5 in the morning in my PJ's, sitting on my bed with my legs underneath me, holding a broom and staring at a corner that may or may not have contained some small, hairy, completely freaked out little creature. I spent a little while being properly ashamed, than decided there was no way in hell I was going to fight this in my PJ's, and since I was good and woken up by this point, I might as well get up and get ready for school. Keeping an eye on the offending corner, I got into my annoying school uniform, thanking god for the first and last time that the mandatory Mary Jane's were hefty enough to use as a makeshift hammer. I grabbed the broom, tipped the bag over, and sorted through all the trash on the floor. Whew. Nothing there. I had gotten a plastic bag, leaned over, and was about halfway done with putting all the trash into it to take out to the outside can when I looked to the right in time to see something small, drak, scuttly and really freaked out make a break from one end of the overturned 'garbage can' to the other. Now, at this point we are going to utilize one of the coolest side-effects of human evolution- our imaginations. We are going to believe that I calmly got to my feet, calmly left the room, and calmly stood in the hall for a little while while I decided what to do next. I re-entered the room, gathered up the bag with the help of the long-suffering broom, and transported it carefully to the bag patio and into the happily waiting care of our aproximately 100 lb. German Shepherd to shred ten kinds of crap out of it. Then I went back into the house to finish getting ready and eat breakfast.
That's where the story ends, right? Boy, I wish.
See, the behavior of the thing in the bag made me think it was not very coordinated and couldn't climb at all. I was halfway to convincing myslef I had just fed Zeus (the Shepherd) a baby rat or something, and I was almost feeling a little guilty; and it would have ended like that if I hadn't realized I forgot my school tie on my desk, which is incidentally located right next to the previous location of the ill-fated garbage can. I reached for the tie and for probably the 85th time that morning scared the crap out of something small, dark, scuttly, and freaked out. Something which was standing or sitting or waiting right next to my hand. Thing is, the lights in my room kind of suck. So through my...we're going to use our imaginations again and call it suprise, and the little basterds swift movement, I actually never got a descent look at it as it took off back across the desk and off the edge behind it (therebye refuting my rat theory). At this point, I decided I had had enough, so I grabbed my backpack, calmly shut the door and calmly went off to the kitchen to make breakfast.
So that's my story, folks. It was small, scrabbly, black and not a rat.
Yes, ladies and gents, I have finally found the elusive baby chupacabra. Just thought someone should tell science or something.
Expect a more coherent post that wasn't almost completely typed on my replaced Kindle's (!!) internet function at 6am while I was waiting for the bacon to cook and wondering why the middle burner on the stove occasionally spends 10+ minutes at a time making a sound like it's auditioning to be a jet engine.
Note: The picture is not a chupacabra, it's actually a baby Aye Aye. They're very endangered, and, I think, kind of cute in a pathetic way. Also possibly related to Joe. Oh, you don't believe me? It's so hairy! And take a good look at those eyes. Tell me I'm wrong.
