The Ants Go Marching One by One

But, "Hurrah, hurrah"? Not so much.

The ants are back, but not -- suprisingly -- in my kitchen. No, they're in my bedroom. "Gee, Caroline. Are you eating in bed again? Staying up late and reading at 1am because you take allergy medicines that make you sleep all day long?" "Why no, I'm not. I live alone now. If I want to stay up late and eat, I do it on the futon in front of the TV. As tiny as it is, it's faaaaar more fun than my tiny bedroom."

So, why ants in the bedroom? As far as I can, it's just a shortcut. There was a hole in the molding around the window where they were coming in. I covered that with spackle, so now they can't come in. What I can't find is the other entrance (egress). I have ants wandering the same line, looking at me with the same lost expression when I spray them with the vingar, their sad little legs waving in the air as they try to find their way without a sense of smell. The bastards. Serves them right. But where are they coming from now that the window hole is covered? I have NO IDEA. Me and my headlamp have been on our hands and knees, trying to follow the trail, and it always dries up. Whole bunch of ants on the wall... two tiny ants waving their legs at each other along the carpet. And then... nothing. NOTHING.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THEY ARE COMING FROM.

Here's what really scares me. When I looked outside (back when the hole in the window frame was still open) the ants were not coming in from the outside of the windo. Oh no. There was (is) a trail of them along the outside of the house, along the foundation, then into the crawlspace. er, I don't know if it even counts as a crawlspace. So, all these ants are entering from UNDERNEATH my "cottage".

I live on the Hellmouth of ants. I need a Slayer.

UPDATE: I only found five lonely ants this morning -- which is still disappointing, but an improvement. (I also put a pile of cornstarch outside the house where they appeared to be entering. Maybe it helped.)

Ants and Light Summer Reading

Last summer I went on a bit of a rehab binge. Maybe it was all the Amy Winehouse on the radio or maybe it was just luck, but it seemed like every time I turned around, I was learning about extreme drug and alcohol abuse and what it's like to stop it. Well, all with a fairly good dose of fiction, because well, because. Who needs facts?

By far my favorite was Augusten Burroughs's Dry (which also happens to be my favorite Augusten Burroughs book; it's good; and hilarious). I also read A Million Little Pieces AGES after Oprah got mad at dude for lying (I forget his name and the book isn't around). Whatever. It was a pretty interetsting read. (I got it for cheap at the thrift store right before a plane flight.) And I also saw an MTV Real Life about drunk twenty-somethings. You know, while I was kwilting. I think there was other stuff in there, little hints and stuff, but those were the big three.

So, during all this reading I learned that one of the last stages of alcoholism is hallucinations, often of tiny, creepy-crawly things. I think Augusten (sure, we're on a first-name basis) said spiders were common, but I think ants would work to.

So last night, when I came home, I was hoping it was just late-stage alcoholism. (Well, not really *hoping*, but you know.) But no, it was actually ants. Everywhere. Especially on the walls around my ceiling. "Why," you ask? "What food do you keep along the edges of your ceiling?" "Why," I reply, "I didn't know I kept any up there."

Ugh. I didn't have ants (or roaches, or grasshoppers, or mice, or rats) in Oregon. And neither I nor my roommates were spontaneously clean or anything. But here? Leave out that empty pan of macaroni and cheese one night... So now my kitchen is covered with ant traps. They're working OK, but I forget which brand is better. I know one rocks -- either Raid or Combat -- but it's been so long. If anyone has any good intel, I'm all ears.