This post is not going to have any pictures because the thought of taking a picture freaks me out. I just got off the phone with my friend Rebekeh, who calmed me down when I called her more than an hour ago, FREAKING out over big, black, flying beatles in my living room. Three of them, to be exact. Just typing that gives me the willies. I called her in HYSTERICS because the bugs were flying around me and I am not brave enough to kill them. Now there is nothing she could do, because her husband is also out of town today and she had her two sleeping children, but oh my goodness. I just needed some moral support and someone to share my bug problems with. So thank you Rebekeh!! I'm glad you didn't make me feel like a total idiot for bawling about beatles.
Killing bugs is Ben's department. Not mine. I usually yell for him, then point at the bugs and watch them until he comes back with a wad of tissue. Then I make sure he flushes them down the toilet, rather than just throwing them in the trash, because I want to be SURE that these bugs are history.
I like to think I am a strong, independent person. But tonight I was neither of those attributes. Instead, I was a crying, ballistic silly girl who was scared of beatles. BEATLES?? Ridiculous. I even pulled out the fly swatter after I hung up the phone, hoping I could get up the nerve to kill at least one of them. But no. They are still loose, flying around in my living room. Hopefully now that the lights are all off will make them want to go elsewhere. I think they snuck in under baseboards - there is a big enough gap in this old place that a sneaky beetle (or three) could come right in. Yuck yuck yuck.
So here I am, at 12:50 a.m., trying to calm down from my two hours of tears, wishing Ben were home and that I had gone to sleep at 10 instead of 1. Last night I was up late because Chicago was slammed with crazy, powerful lightning and thunderstorms that were so intense. The tornado warning earlier in the evening was enough to put me on edge, worried that I would wake to sirens going off in the middle of the night.
One other thing - don't rent the movie
Grace is Gone - it is DEPRESSING. It's about a dad who learns that his wife, who is serving in the army in Iraq, has died, and how he puts off telling his two daughters for a few days and instead takes them on a road trip. It is so so so sad, because you anticipate him finally sharing the news through the whole movie. Ugh. Take my word and don't watch it. Unless you want a movie that will put you in tears so you can have a good cry.
It's definitely not a great one to watch when your husband is unreachable for five days, hiking in the wilderness somewhere. Or when you're pregnant and have all kinds of unreasonable thoughts running through your mind. Like the possibility of beatles attacking me in the night. YUCK. Let's hope tomorrow night is uneventful!! I need more sleep. And more courage to kill those bugs... good night.
The movie is in Spanish and I watched it with English subtitles. It's about a 9-year-old boy who attempts to cross the border of Mexico to find his mom in Los Angeles, who has lived there illegally for four years. The little boy is a terrific actor - as is his mom. The DVD cover is a little funny looking, but it really is a wonderful movie.
