To Catch a Mouse

Okay... in case some of you don't know, I might've had a mouse in my closet two nights ago. (Scroll down to the bottom of this post for links to the beginning of the mouse saga.) Before I tell you if there was a mouse or if I caught a mouse, I want to tell you how my day went yesterday.

After waking up at 2pm (see this post for more details on that), I called my landlord and told him that I have a mouse. He owns a butcher shop, so he sent one of his butcher shop cronies up to my apartment to check it out. When the guy arrived, I told him the whole story and pointed to my closet, which had been sealed off with a periwinkle Martha Stewart towel. "He's in there," I said. "I know it." Butcher Shop Crony (BSC) opened the door and looked around, but he didn't see the mouse or any trace of the mouse inside. Seriously, there weren't droppings lying around or anything.

After looking for an explanation, BSC--get this--started pointing (because he doesn't speak English) to my vacuum cleaner (which I keep in this closet), insinuating it was that that was making the noise I heard. This seemed to be the only logical explanation to him because, you know, all vacuums make noise when they're unplugged, sitting in a closet. Moron. I told BSC that the noises I heard weren't coming from my vacuum cleaner magically moving around in the closet, nor were they a figment of my imagination--they were coming from a mouse--but he wouldn't listen. I heard chewing. I heard gnawing. THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET, WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?!!?

On his way out, I asked BSC if he'd bring me a mousetrap, but he just shook his head. "Non."

After this, I called my family and friends and told them the story of the mouse. At first they were like, "Oh I believe you," but when they heard the "no droppings" part they changed their mind. One by one, they all tried to convince me that I was crazy, that there probably wasn't a mouse in my closet, that I must've overreacted. I told them no, that Elvis and Bev saw/heard the little rodent too, but apparently they don't count.

Fuckers. Everyone.

Anyway, around 5pm the money that I was waiting for magically appeared in my checking account (yes!), so I marched down to the corner store and bought myself a mousetrap. They didn't have "real" mousetraps there, the kind that maim and KILL the little rodents, just glue traps. The guy behind the register laughed while ringing me up.

When I got home, I put a glue trap down in the closet and closed the door. A few hours went by and nothing. A few more hours went by and still nothing. After a few more hours, I decided to put a second glue trap down with a piece of Beverly's dog food right in the middle of it. And then... about an hour later... I heard it. "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!" (sounds of the plastic being dragged around) "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!"

This happened less than an hour ago.

First of all, I feel justified. I HAD A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET--I KNEW IT! Second of all, I'm scared shitless to open the door. The squeaking and plastic dragging has stopped so maybe I should--oh wait. There it goes again. I spoke too soon. I think the mouse is trying to move around.

I momentarily feel sad.

The moment is over.

Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is so freakin' disgusting.

The butcher shop opens at 7:30am. I hope BSC is there again so I can say, "Ha! I was right. There was a mouse in my closet. And I caught it."

Before I go, can we talk about the box the glue traps came in? I mean, what's going on there? First, the two mice they drew on the cover look like Tom Jerry, a mouse that I--and I think I speak for a large majority of the population here--grew up with and consider to be my friend. Second, what exactly are the mice on the glue trap doing? The one at the bottom looks like he's taking a nap after a hearty meal, and the one on the left looks like he's about to join him. Are they supposed to be dead/dying? It says "Non-Poisonous" right at the bottom so I doubt it. I bet the one on the bottom is thinking, "Seeing as though I'm stuck here until someone comes to get me I might as well get some rest." And I think the one on the left went blind or something and is like, "My eyes! My eyes!" On the other hand, maybe he just has allergies.

And oh yes, and in case you're wondering... I have been up all night--I'm not an early riser. This mouse is wreaking havoc on my life. (Okay fine, the extra-long Xanax-induced sleep yesterday didn't help either, but that was the mouse's fault, too.)

PREVIOUSLY: Zzzz... This is Your Brain on Drugs, Another Mouse Update, Mouse Update, I HAVE A MOUSE!!!!!

UPDATE: This post was linked on Gawker. Thanks!

Zzzz... This is Your Brain on Drugs

Okay... what's the downside to popping a Xanax at 3am? Waking up at 2pm the next day. The whole reason I took it is because I had a lot to do today and couldn't be kept awake all night thinking about a rodent in the closet. But here it is, 2pm, and I'm just getting up. I'm groggy, too, and need coffee. OMG--I'm turning into Elvis. (Not my cat Elvis, but the hip-gyrating fatty in the white jumpsuit Elvis.)

Another downside to popping a Xanax at 3am is that it's the middle of the afternoon and I still have a mouse in the closet.

Another Mouse Update

It's me again... I'm still blogging from my BlackBerry in bed. Elvis slept on the towel all night, so the lil mousie wasn't able to make a break for it. I got up and checked on him/them a couple of times, and when I did I heard him in there again, trying to get out. I momentarily felt bad, but only momentarily. Everytime he does it I bang the door to remind him who's boss (ME!) and yell, "Don't even think about it! You stay in there, where you belong!" I feel like one of those evil people who locks their children in the closet when I say this, but this rodent deserves it. Is his name on my lease? I don't think so.

The only good thing right about now is that the money I was waiting for should be in my checking account by now (direct deposit rocks), so I should have enough to buy a mousetrap.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Mouse Update

Okay... I'm sending this from my BlackBerry while I'm in bed. I took a Xanax... I've calmed down. I shoved a periwinkle Martha Stewart towel in the crack at the bottom of the door and along part of the side, so the little bugger is sealed in. Elvis is perched on top of the towel and is still keeping watch. Bev is posted at the bottom of the bed and can alert me if the prisoner somehow breaks free, gets past Elvis, and comes in my room to eat me.

I have a lot to do tomorrow, so hopefully the Xanax will help me sleep and I can deal with it in the morning. (OMG... I can't believe that I just said that I'd deal with it in the morning. Xanax rocks.)

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

I HAVE A MOUSE!!!!!

<--- (I'm not dirty; my wood floors just need to be redone.)
OMG... I HAVE A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT AGAIN RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT! (2:38am EST) SO GET THIS... I'm sleeping tonight, all sleepy-sleep in my bed when all of the sudden Bev starts barking wildly and jumps off my bed. Sometimes she and Elvis play in the middle of the night so I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I realized... this was a different bark. I quickly sat up, looked out my bedroom door and into the living room (thank God I sleep with a night light--I do so for moments just like these) and saw both her and Elvis standing guard outside a closet, staring into it.

I stood up, walked over to them and neither of them moved from their spot. I looked inside the closet and didn't see anything, so I shut it. Bev went back to bed (outta sight, outta mind for her, I guess), but Elvis is still paroling the area, pacing back and forth outside the door, peering underneath. I hear something inside making noise, like a chewing, gnawing noise--it has to be a mouse! What else could it be?

OMG, OMG, OMG!!!! I don't have a roommate anymore--what am I supposed to do? I hate, hate, hate rodents. I can deal with a roach--I don't like them but I can deal with them--but a mouse I cannot. In my first book, that whole big mouse/baby rat fiasco (we're still not sure what it was), was pretty much the worst day of my life.

So, I don't have many choices on what to do here. I can lock the babies (Elvis and Bev) in the bathroom (because I don't want them to get it), then try to muster up the courage to open the closet door and shoo the bastard out with a broom.

Okay, who am I kidding--If I see it I'll close my eyes and scream bloody murder, then have no idea where he ran off to.

Okay, next option... I can plug up the bottom of the door with a t-shirt or something so he doesn't get away while I'm gone (the steel wool I have is in the very closet that little MF-er ran into), run to the corner store, buy a mouse trap and attempt to "toss" it in the closet when I get back. PROBLEM: I have $1.35 in my wallet and $7 in my checking account. How much are mousetraps? (I'm getting paid tomorrow. Life's really glamorous as a writer--isn't it?)

Whatever I decide, I'm popping a Xanax first. I'll keep you posted on what happens.

Tutelage

I'm watching Inside the Actors Studio with Tom Hanks right now (I don’t watch American Idol) and he just used the word "tutelage." Isn't that a fun word to say? Tutelage. He was talking about being under the tutelage of someone.

tu•te•lage (n.)

1. The capacity or activity of a guardian; guardianship.
2. The capacity or activity of a tutor; instruction or teaching.
3. The state of being under the direction of a guardian or tutor.

I'm going to use this word more. Just so I can say it.

To Blurb

I'm a blurber. Or a blurbologist. Jeffrey Yamaguchi, author of 52 Projects: Random Acts of Everyday Creativity, asked me to give his book a quote after I listed his website, 52 Projects, on savekaryn.com. After reading the book, I, of course, said yes because it's FABULOUS. So check it out! Not only does it make a great gift, but it's a great way to get in touch with your inner child. Yippie!

My First Real Person Review

Even though the book isn't out yet, I got my first "real person" review on Amazon.co.uk today. It's from a bookseller named Anastasia who got an advanced copy. She gave it FIVE STARS! Yay!

"This is a must read for all chick lit lovers! I really enjoyed reading it and thought it really stood out from the rest of the women's fiction I have read - and I work in a book shop so I have read a lot! It's a great read for the weekend or for when you just want to chill out!"

When Save Karyn came out, I remember writing on my website, "Good reviews are important, but having the people like it is where it's at," and I still believe that. So I hope others like it, too!

Real Album Covers Part II

And don't forget to check out his follow up... Someday I Will Die, Too



"Hey Julie... now that you're sixteen, there's something I need to tell you. I'm not your real father, your name isn't Julie, and well... you're not sixteen. Your real parents sold you to me in Tijuana twenty-eight years ago for 87 pesos and a gram of PCP. I'm sorry to break the news to you like this..."



Five people went into the woods and one came out. Can you guess which one?

Worst Kisses

I was reading an article in the NY Post this morning about the eight worst handshakes and it got me thinking about what the eight worst kisses/kissers might be. Here's a start...

1. The Lip Sucker/Nibbler - Sucking or nibbling on my lips once or twice is fine, but giving them a hickey or drawing blood is not. As for sucking on my tongue... there's really never an appropriate time to do this.

2. The Toothbrush - When someone runs their tongue along my teeth like they're giving them a good polish. I go to the dentist for this; I don't need someone to do it for me.

3. The Slobberer - I don't mind if someone kisses me on the nose or chin, but I'd prefer if they didn't leave a trail of slobber behind when doing so. I mean, if I feel like I have to put down a tarp beneath us to protect the floors, then we're in trouble.

4. The Ear Licker - I thought this might be a subcategory of "The Slobberer," but my friend Sam said it needed a category of it's own. To all the "Ear Lickers" out there... kids give wet willies to torture each other. Enough said.

5. The Teeth Grinder/Hard Kisser - Being on the receiving end of a hard kiss in the heat of the moment is one thing, but when someone chips my teeth with theirs, or exfoliates my face with their stubble, it's quite another.

6. The "Hearty" Kisser - Has kissing someone ever made you feel like you just ate... because they just ate? Gives new meaning to that "not-so-fresh feeling," doesn't it? A warm, gooey kiss accompanied by remnants of someone's latest meal is not sexy. Brush your teeth after you eat. Did your mother not teach you anything?

7.

8.

Care to finish the list? The top two comments will make #7 & #8.

Why MySpace?

Before I answer this question, I just want to say that, right now, at this very moment... I have 69 friends.

Hee hee.

Okay, now why MySpace? I mean, aren't I a little too old for MySpace? Perhaps... but after getting a couple friend requests, I started browsing around and noticed that quite a few writers/authors have MySpace pages. I then thought, Gosh, what a fun way to connect with people who like my books or blog!

My Space also a new Books section, so if haven't already done so... CHECK IT OUT!

And, of course, if you want to be my friend, please visit me here.

Kanye West: Cult Member or Medium Vagina Conspirator?

So I was reading a friend's site, Glamazon Life, and I came across some pics she posted of Kanye West making some triangle thing with his hands. She suggested that he's trying to start a cult (after being influenced by Tom Cruise), but I think he's furthering Larry David's idea of the "big vagina" conspiracy theory and creating awareness of something called the "medium vagina." See the similarities?

By God, he's even got Tom Freston doing it.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, watch this:



What do you think of my theory?

UPDATE: This post was "Blog Dished" on A Socialite's Life. Thank you Miu von Furstenberg!

Baby Pictures

I found this picture of me when I was younger and wanted to share it with you all.


Apparently I learned to beg for money at a very young age.

Posts About 20 Times a Lady

Yowza! So, a couple people have gotten a copy of the new book and have written about it on their blogs. Here are the links:

- Manic Mom's Mental Myriads
- WOW... What a Day (She didn't exactly write a post about it, but at the top, where she said, "I do know I couldn't put my book down yesterday so I finished it! LOL It really was a good book," she was talking about 20 Times a Lady. Thanks Michelle!)
- Lusty Lady
- Level of Consciousness
- Ellen VS. the Modern Library (and other battles) She read the book and said... "Bosnak is obviously a more talented writer than her Internet detractors give her credit for." Thanks Ellen!
- Glamazon Life
- Sabrina's Money Madness

Also, the funny chick behind Nichelle Newsletter set up a blog called Stop Counting, and named 20 Times a Lady the official book of it.

So visit all these people and say hi!