The Albino: [raspy voice] "The Pit of Despair! Don't even think...[clears throat] don't even think about trying to escape.... Don't dream of being rescued, either...." Westley: "So I'm here till I die?" The Albino: "Until they kill you, yeah." (The Princess Bride)
In spite of having 9 blog posts that have been sitting suspended in online limbo since last September; I am going to dust off the old blog by starting (and posting!) a brand new topic about something that has been near to my heart, and slowly eating away at my soul for the last 2 months: the hell hole I sometimes call home, but more often call Satan's Armpit. I shall describe it as a (very long) horror film synopsis.
(Queue happy music, chirping birds and summer laughter). A cute, young(ish) couple move into a place they think is going to be amazing: it's spacious, right by a canyon which will make their activity days easy and more productive, it's close to their climbing gym, has easy freeway access, allows pets (they recently adopted a cat, and the girl desperately wants a dog), and the owner/landlord is frequently absent. (Queue sinister, foreboding music). They happily sign a 12 month lease, and move in (conveniently after the landlord leaves the country) the sinister music queues, and all (of the girl's) nightmares are realized.
One day, after hitting his head on the ceilings that barely offer pygmy's clearance, the boy leaves the girl alone at the house for the afternoon, so she can start unpacking. While trying to decide where to begin, she finds that much of the apartment is covered in spider webs. And the webs, along with all nooks and crannies of the house, are occupied by variety of arachnids. She calls the boy in tears--paralyzed by fear--and waits, in a square foot of space, unmoving, for two hours until the boy comes to rescue her. He, of course, thinks she is exaggerating the issue; which is understandable due to the abject fear arachnids instill in said girl, but which she maintains is not an exaggeration.
They continue to move in; and slowly, the boy begins to realize that the girl is not hysterically crying everyday for no reason. They are, in fact, under a brutal and all-out spider invasion. The girl will not go without shoes in the house, and she is living out of the trunk of her car, because not only are spiders everywhere, there is also virtually no storage or closet space in the house. The boy valiantly caulks all holes in the ceilings, under the cabinets, and in the walls to lessen the access points of the attack. In an effort to secure their defenses, the girl buys spider spray and nearly poisons herself in an effort to preempt the 8-legged blitz. All to little avail.
And then comes the ant assault. The girl woke up one Saturday morning, and decided to clean the dishes. Upon entering the kitchen, however, she finds all the dishes, in and out of the sink, covered by ants. She bravely eradicated them all (and cleaned the dishes) in just under three hours. Three days later, they had amassed enough recruits to attack on two fronts: one battalion hit the kitchen, while the other trekked across the main causeway into the living room and cat carrier. It took 3 days to end the assault.
Meanwhile, the couple continued (futilely) to try to move in. When plugging in the TV the girl noticed a red light on the surge protector, and asked the boy about it. He found out that it meant there was an increased chance for static shock; but given the battles waging elsewhere in the apartment, they paid little heed. Then, one day, the boy turned on one of the three lights in the grimly lit basement, and a horrible, loud popping noise, accompanied by flying embers met him. After fruitlessly trying to get in touch with their absentee landlord, the boy called an electrician to come look at the problem; and found one much more grave. Which he fixed. Nearly one month later, a mysterious man showed up at the apartment, inquiring about the electrical problem, and wanting to make sure the couple was ok.
Meanwhile, the leaking washer, the dampness in the apartment that won't allow clothes (or carpet) to dry, the persistent musty smell, and wretched humid atmosphere, along with the stairs leading to their apartment which threaten to collapse at any given moment, and mouse-sized cockroaches and various other beetles that often try (and frequently succeed) to invade their home keep the girl constantly on edge. All while keeping a sharp eye out for spiders whilst using the rocking toilet, which leaves the residents, and unsuspecting visitors, open to an unbalanced defense if they are lucky--they are still horribly exposed while forced to hold down the toilet handle for a 10-second-minimum in order to get the toilet to flush. And should any prisoner try to escape quickly, they will fail, since the front door cannot open quickly nor easily, since it gets stuck on the too-low ceiling. But even someone were lucky enough to get out, the curmudgeony neighbor might be found blocking the driveway out of spite, as he is often wont to do, and all hope of escape would be forever lost.
And while you'd expect to find this couple dead or gone by now, to this day you can still find the girl often sitting all alone in the house (or with a black cat who only interacts with her when (s)he wants food, or to go outside).
