I hate cockroaches.

I know it's been a while since I've written, but many things have happened in the past month and I haven't taken the time to update my blog. Sorry friends.

So there are very few things in this world that make me squeal like a little girl. The sight of blood or a dead animal, I can deal with. Snakes, no problem. But when it comes to cockroaches, I get quite freaked out. When they're crawling across the floor 10 feet or 5 feet away from me, I tend to go after them with a book to kill them. But when they are on me....it's like all reason flies out of the window.

And recently, in my room at my house, there has been an abundant amount of cockroaches. Okay, really like one per day, but they're GIANT! Some of the biggest, fastest moving, impossible to kill bugs I've ever seen in my entire life! They just do not die.

On Sunday of last week, a group of volunteers arrived to help us with all of our day to day projects. One of the girls was here last Summer, so I invited her to share a room with me. When we were getting ready to go to sleep that night, I went to open the bathroom door and a cockroach came flying at me! I squealed and tried to sweep it off of me. When I had gained a millisecond of composure and looked to where the bug had gone off to, I realized it was still on me. So i promptly flicked it off (with more squeals), and my friend took a shoe to it.

You would think with all of the adventure I have in my day-to-day life, I could handle a bug. But for whatever reason, I go into crazy-mode and all rationality escapes me.

My friend who killed the giant roach just laughed at me and made fun of me. My only response I could muster, "I can deal with cockroaches, I just really do not want them on me."

It's kinda like dealing with Indians on the crowded busses here. I can deal with them, I just do not want them touching me. haha.

Oh life in India.