Fivel stays put + near death by grooming.

There's a mouse in my roomate's bedroom. It's small and brown. I dislike things running lose in my place of dwelling. I brought home the class hampster over Christmas Break in third grade. It escaped from its cage. Horrors! Hampster in cage = cute and cuddly; hampster on the lose = menacing predator. I never really liked the idea of Santa creeping in during the night either.

On two occaisons my roommates have spotted Fivel before me. When one of two people freak out about an intrusive and potentially disgusting pest, the second person, by default, must assume the role of calm and confident crisis handler. After a brief spell with no signs of mouse activity, it was hoped and assummed that Fivel had moved along to new environs. Last night I noticed the tiniest movment near a pair of shoes. Sure enough, it was followed by the scampering of our little brown friend across my roommate's floor. Hooray - spotted it first and braveness avoided! It's still on the lose. No one wants to kill it. Catching it isn't the most pleasing prospect either, because then we'd have to see it up close.

My coping strategy for this problem is leaving town. As such, I scheduled some grooming services prior to a brief visit to Los Angeles. I'd read that having one's eyebrow's threaded allows for more precision and is 'healthier.' Someone also told me that it was less painful than waxing.

Not true! Even though I'm happy that the threading person only cleaned up what my favorite L. A. brow lady does so well, I'm not happy about how I paid someone to torture me. It felt like a thousand very sharp fingernails pinching into my skin in rapid succession. Next time Sally Hansen and I will get by just fine on our own, thank you very much.