The rumors are true. I have the blood of 20+ beetles on my hands. Not literally, that would be disgusting. I spent the weekend in my childhood bedroom, which has an Achilles Heel in the form of some secret bug-entrance in an undeterminable location. The 2007 ladybug invasion left me with a severe aversion to the smell of ladybugs (apparently they secrete smelly liquid from their joints as a fear tactic). I’ve had my fill of manic moths and speedy spiders. Heck, this isn’t even the first year those nasty stink bug beetle things have made an appearance in my place of residence. But this time was different.Continue reading
Perched atop the cracking windows of Leonard Hall, the Asian beetle’s little mouth curls in a bashful smile. It’s four o’clock: rush hour for the Asian beetles, who are piling in the corners of the warm room, falling on top of each other in confusion. She has arrived late for the interview, leaving me hopelessly scanning the top of my dorm ceiling amongst the forty other Asian beetles for her.