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2005-07-13 || 3:09 p.m. || presently closing all windows; hiding under a table. || there are wasp nests tucked along the moulding of the back hallway. i noticed them when we moved in but decided not to worry about it since there are several other people in the building who must have noticed them, and since they seem fine with it, i should too. i've never seen wasps flying around back there, but i duck my head when walking down the stairs to the basement any way. kind of like hunching your shoulders up in a hallway you are fairly certain is haunted but without any proper sightings to confirm the fact. today i walked out to the front hallway and saw my first wasp phantom. he is big and black and Evil, and he swarmed around me and then was gone. i thought more likely than not he was hitching a ride in my hair and calmly stood outside on the balcony so that he would be seduced by trees and flowers and pollen, and i directly called brian, who is having wasp hauntings of his own. i like to think of it as a cosmic connection, explained by supernatural forces and a mysterious tie to our hymenopteran friends (enemies. i like insects enough, but wasps transcend to the realm of menace and pain.). in any case. i went into the hallway again and heard the high-pitched banshee screams of the dark one. he's building a nest on my front doorframe. on the corner. right there. standing so close to it made him angry and he darted at me and lord help me i screamed a little bit. did i mention how big he is? all protected in black armor and stinging weapons? across the hall there is the mother nest, something i hadn't notice prior to today. surely an armada has been called to take over. i imagine my cat impaled to the wall with a billion stingers. wasps flowing out of my water faucets. gingerly climbing up the stairs at night so as not to wake them for a deadly attack. a ghostly knock on the door that reveals the armada in the shape of a man's hand, pulling apart to sting my eyeballs out. just now i walked out again, as i cannot let such a takeover happen without a fight. i opened the balcony door and he miraculously flew outside. i shut the door, having to open it again to align the bottom with the jamb, and found that the wood is horribly warped and there is a three-quarter-inch gap between the frame and top of the door. i could lock it and everything. it won't make a difference. i could scream, too, but will that disengage the poison that will surely be coarsing through my body after he's had his way with me? i grabbed a paper and opened my door. i watched the gap in the event he was returning and knocked the hell out of the den of evil on my door frame. and then i slammed my door with the force of all that is good and not exoskeletal and locked it for good measure. now he knows where i live. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |