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We started noticing them on Thursday night. "Where the hell are all these bugs coming from?" Calvin growled. I joined him in the kitchen, and observed a veritable swarm of eeny, teeny flying buggies winging around. Crawling on the walls. Crawling on the floors. Gack. We went through a flurry of seek-and-destroy, but as many as we killed, a hundred more would crop up. They flew into our hair. Crawled on us as we watched TV. Landed in our food. It was grody-licious. We initially blamed the infestation on the kids' habit of leaving food-laden dishes in their rooms, and wet towels stuck in corners. Indeed, when forced to clean, Michael and Marie produced a bunch of said items, crawling with bugs. I found some in one of the cabinets designated for the storage of five hundred partially used bags of chocolate chips and walnuts. Calvin sprayed a few areas, and emptied out the kitchen light fixture where a few hundred of the crawlies had succumbed to their deaths. We crossed our fingers that we had taken care of the source of the problem. But we hadn't. By Saturday morning the infestation was so bad we considered not holding Michael's going-away get together at our house. They were *everywhere*. Crawling (and mating) in groups in every corner, crawling all over the walls, piled up on the window sills. We couldn't even walk barefoot in the house. It was time for drastic measures. On the way home from breakfast on Saturday morning, we stopped at Home Depot and purchased some bug bombs. We put five of them in various places in the house - including the attic - and the kids and I stood outside while Calvin set them off. It was necessary to vacate the house for two hours, so we dropped Marie off at her friend's house. Calvin, Michael, Michael's friend, and I went to a sporting goods store to purchase some stuff for Calvin and Michael's desert trip the next day (target shooting). Then we hung out and had a few drinks at Teakwoods. Then we picked Marie up again. We came home to a house that smelled like paint thinner, with a veritable *carpet* of dead bugs on the floor. Folks, it was truly, truly gross. We set the kids to cleaning the kitchen while Calvin and I uncovered the furniture. We then had a bare hour to get ready for Calvin's reunion. I ran a quick sweep over the floor, vowing to do a total clean the next day while Calvin and the boys were away. We went to the reunion (which I'll get to in a sec), and when we came back there were still buggies, but not as many. The next morning I noticed that the buggies seemed to be congregating the most in the cracks in the corners of the west (? Calvin will probably tell me I'm incorrect here - I suck at directions) wall. There were none at all in my bedroom or bathroom (on the opposite side of the house), nor in the computer room. So when Calvin got back from taking Michael shooting, I pointed this out to him. He took a look outside, and observed swarms of these little flies, all over the outside wall. They must have been getting in through the ventilation up under the eaves. So he took some of this toxic stuff we had in the garage, mixed it up in the spray canister, and shot the hell outta those suckers. As it stands today, there are no more buggies. At least, not in our house. We read in the paper Monday morning that Arizona is experiencing an infestation of these things because of the unusually wet spring we had. They usually don't arrive until the monsoon season, a good month away. So because of the ripe mating conditions brought about by the wet weather, they're around in unusually high numbers. Yippee. ******************** Now, for the reunion. I'd purchased the previously mentioned swishy black pants outfit on Friday. It shows off the tattoos on my back quite nicely - which added to the sassiness, I think. Calvin was looking swank in his grey shirt and pants, and black tie. Unfortunately, he was feeling less than enthusiastic about the reunion, which surprised me. I think it was a combination of dealing with the bugs, and preparing for Michael's departure, that put him in a not-so-partying mood. I was correct in assuming that he'd feel better once we got there, though. We arrived at the La Posada resort in Scottsdale at about 6:15. I wish they had a website I could link to, but I can't seem to find anything on it. Anyway, it's resort-ish and clique-ish and posh-esque and all full of rich snobby goodness. It's Scottsdale, after all. We found our banquet area and came upon a throng of people mingling and having drinks. We went up to the registration desk and signed in, and the gentleman handed us buttons to pin on, and tickets for the dinner. Calvin's button had his senior year picture on it (a hoot - I'll have to see if I can scan it and sneak it in here, unbeknownst to him - he'll kill me, though). I had a button with my name on it, and the words "Stop staring. I wasn't in your class." Heh. We started to walk up to the bar, when Calvin spotted one of his good friends whom he hadn't seen since the last reunion. So he made a beeline over to him while I grabbed a couple of beers. The laughed and chatted and "Dude" -ed and "Oh my God" -ed while I stood about and tried to look like I knew who/what/when they were talking about. They pointed out other classmates, with "do you remember when"'s flying fast and furious. They got catty with some of the broadening women and balding men, but mostly it was "They haven't changed a bit!" Everyone Calvin introduced me to was very, very nice. On one funny occasion, though, a man came up to Calvin and started yukking it up. He wasn't wearing his button, and Calvin's smile was a little strained. In a quick aside, Calvin admitted to me that he had *no idea* who this guy was. So I turned to him and stuck out my hand and said "Hi, I'm Laura. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." He replied "Hi, I'm Brad." Calvin shot me a grateful look. I'm pretty cool that way. Heh. Another guy joined our group, and I could see him squinting at me. I said to him "Don't worry, you don't know me." He replied, "Oh, but I will." That wins the "Cheeziest Comment of the Night" award. There were two silicone queens that made me titter - ex-cheerleaders who have obviously tried to keep up on the looks that only money can buy. Calvin told me that one of them is a former topless dancer. He of course found this out while at the club she worked at several years ago, when she offered to dance for him. Recognition dawned when he fully faced her, and it was all downhill from there. She didn't come over to say "hi". She and the other silicone queen were dressed in matching midriff-bearing shirts and tight black pants, and were never more than two feet away from each other the whole night. I can just hear the phone conversation - "So what are you wearing to the reunion tomorrow night?" Heh. Sad. We were finally allowed into the dining area after the updated class picture was taken. We sat with, and hung out with, the same group of people for most of the night. The reunion committee did their song and dance thing, and one of the classmates-turned-comedian did his "Uncle Dingdong" routine. Basically it consisted of class-specific trivia ("Who was the homecoming king and queen?", "Who put a naked picture of themselves in the trophy case?") and whipped a Ding Dong at whomever yelled out the correct answer. Then he hauled four other people up with him and put them through a goofy physical comedy routine where he made them act like they were using a yo-yo, throwing a frisbee, using a hula-hoop, and snowboarding all at the same time. Whatever. High class humor this was not. Calvin says that after the routine the guy was running around in the men's bathroom in his underwear ("Hey, kids! It's Uncle Dingdong!"). I'm glad I missed it. The buffet consisted of ceaser salad, chinese rice and noodles, pasta with alfredo or marinara sauce, and chicken or beef fajitas. Nothing to gush about, really. The chocolate cake for dessert was passable, but the coffee was excellent. The music could have been better - not many people were dancing. I assume that it heated up after we left, though - we called it a somewhat early night at around 10:00. Calvin was wigged out the entire night. If he said "This is so weird" once, he said it three million forty-two thousand five hundred and twelve times. I guess there's nothing like a twenty-year reunion to make you feel mortal. He and I had an excellent conversation on the way home about how you have to make the most out of every day of your life. How arguing or not getting along (rare, in our household) is such a waste of time. How it's really important to treat your loved ones like you *love* them. We were both preaching to the choir, of course, but it's nice to be reminded of how totally committed we are to each other, and how important we are to each other. Yes, okay, enough with the warm fuzziness. Back to Friday!On to Sunday/Monday! |