By now I am fully convinced that I am one cockroach queen. My friends know that I have an intense fear of roaches. I’m scared of them, not really hardcore “Fear”. I was once bitten by a cockroach on my right eye while sleeping. So imagine a cockroach crawling on your face, checking every pore with its hairy gross legs, and looking for a perfect spot to bite you. Unfortunately for me I have friends and family who laugh at how scared I am at roaches. Their argument is that I am 10 million times bigger than a cockroach. It also doesn’t help that friends would buy plastic roaches to prank me or that my dad sometimes pretends to throw a dead roach at me. I can’t go in a room unless I can see and conclude beyond any reasonable doubt that it is already dead.

Speaking of dead cockroach, I am a firm believer that roaches DO NOT die. They don’t. The dinosaurs, all fierce and tough, got killed by that meteorite impact. Roaches? Nah. They lived. Nuclear explosions? Pffft. Chop of their heads? Nope. Shred them? Probably not. Whack with slippers? Definitely not. Those little buggers simply pretend to be dead then after 5 minutes and you check on them again, they’re gone! Then the paranoia starts. Is it on  me? Inside my bag? OH MY GOD. The stress!

Now why do I think I am a cockroach queen? There’s been some instances that helped me arrive at this conclusion. Example one, when I was still working in Angeles, Pampanga, we stayed in an old house. It was dark and surrounded by plants, kinda damp, perfect for roaches. My roachy sense knew 100% that were roaches there. True enough they showed up. When and where? In the kitchen when I’m making breakfast and in MY bathroom. Where else? None. Then we moved to a new house in a very pretty village. This house was just constructed. As in we moved a week after it was finished. Our house help beamed at me and said, “Madam, for sure no roaches here. House is brand new!” WRONG! To my utter surprise, there was one in MY ROOM and in MY OFFICE. Where else? None. So finally I moved to America. Yey! Cleaner place. My fiancee is a neat freak and in almost two years he’s lived in his house, there hasn’t been any roach sighting. BUT on my third day here, boom! Cockroach in the garage and most recently in the bathroom when I was about to shower. And guess what, they show up when he’s not here. How confuckinvenient.

So I had a mini talk with my fiancee about these roaches. He sprays some anti-bugs thingy in the house every week. I checked the bottle and it says keeps cockroaches away for weeks. FALSE. Outside our doors you would usually see dead bugs, beetles, lizards, and spiders, but for some ungodly reason these damn roaches don’t die. These things showed up when I got here. I thought, maybe I brought some here from the Philippines? No. Why? Cos they don’t look the same. I know my roaches so don’t argue with me on this. I told my fiancee, that the most annoying thing about roaches is that they don’t get scared. Even when you try stomping your feet to try shoo them, they still move towards you. And fly towards you! Fiancee countered this. To my horror he said: No hun, they do move away. Oh maybe you’re like a queen ant or queen bee. You attract them!

Well holy jumping beans! He’s got a point.

That cockroach that bit me? I’m pretty sure he planted something in me and roaches can detect that. They come to me. They feel me. Now I have to live my life forever with the constant threat of having a cockroach follow me everywhere. They’re probably watching me right now. My next step is to get some cockroach exorcism. I’ll let you know if it works.

PS. I am writing this with strong passion of hate towards roaches.
PPS. Have you heard that they developed a robot based on roaches’ ‘squishability’?