The scream probably woke our downstairs neighbors. I was sitting lengthwise on the couch a few days ago, minding my own business, surfing the net and just generally relaxing. Steve was across the living room on his couch watching TV. I had this odd sense that I was being watched. I happened to glance up and over and there I saw it ...

One of those damned "Palmetto bugs" was nonchalantly sitting on the top of the couch, about six inches from my face, STARING. RIGHT. AT. ME.

I'm not normally all girly about stuff like that. I'll kill my own spiders and beetles and such. But we've had a rash of those things lately and they skeeve me out because they're bigger than my damn finger and they fly. No shit, I walked into the living room one night and the thing flew all the way across the room from the kitchen to the couch. And they're fast too so we've been chasing them around the room, catching them under cups and everything.

But that night took the cake because it was so close and thoughts of it crawling down under the blanket that covered my lap just freaked me out. I'm lucky my laptop didn't end up on the damn floor as I jumped up and did my girly, skeeved out bounce across the room.

Just as I screamed though, that thing turned around skittered behind the couch, as if it knew it had been caught. Steve headed to the kitchen to get a cup and I took a deep breath and went into defense mode.

I pulled the couch away from the wall as he held the cup high. The thing scampered across the floor, heading towards the bedroom. I'm screaming "Get it, get it!" as Steve is falling over everything to try and catch up with it.

We finally slam the cup down over it and the thing is so damn big, it's literally moving the cup as it scurries around in circles on the inside. We both sort of stare at each other with a "Now what do we do?" look on our face and Steve finally turns around, grabs a thin piece of cardboard, slides it under the cup and carries the whole contraption to the freezer.

We've tried stomping them, hitting them with something, traps and nothing works. We even tried boric acid but they just swim around in it like it's vacation.

The freezer came about because we were both unnerved at how fast they were and wanted to slow them down. My theory is that you'd be able to freeze them whole and thaw them out and they'd still be alive. That's how indestructible I've heard these damn things are. Besides, they've been around for millions of years, what's a night in the freeze going to do.

Apparently, a lot because as we experimented, a night in the freezer and a day of thawing out does not a reincarnated Palmetto Bug make. Regardless, down the disposal they go, just in case.

I know they're somewhat of a local mascot and I know if I call the landlord to spray, they'll laugh at me. I know they're not attracted to filth, like the rest of their kind, and that's it more the rain and the pine straw beds that constitute pretty much our whole front lawn that draws them out. We even figured that they're probably getting in through our fireplace, which happens to sit right behind the couch I was sitting on the other night.

I know all this. I try to explain it to Steve. I was the calm one in the situation for awhile. Now, I'm just as skeeved and grossed out as he is because it was so. damn. close.

It's time for drastic measures. Time to board up the fireplace and all the windows. Time to clear a special spot in the freezer. Time to go dig up all the pine straw.

Time for something because now I have all these thoughts of waking up with one in my face. Or having it crawl over my shoulder as I'm reading or get in my hair as I'm in the kitchen getting or drink or something.

Ths ain't Joe's Apartment. You're not welcome here, Palmetto Bugs! Get out or get froze out!

Sometimes I feel guilty about the fact that I missed out on the bulk of 9/11. Everyone you talk to has their own stories and memories. They were on their way to work or school. They were at home getting their children ready. They were somewhere, anywhere but they all heard it or saw it.

I was sleeping. To this day, I feel guilty for that. I feel guilty because I didn't initially participate in the reaction. I didn't see things unfold. I didn't hear things as they were happening. Most people had already has a chance to begin processing it a bit.

I was supposed to have a 8:30 am class that day. If I had gotten up on time and gotten to class, I still wouldn't have made it because fifteen minutes later the news broke. I don't even remember why I didn't go, so maybe it wasn't a good enough reason.

I woke up around 10:30am and got myself ready to drive into the city, about twenty minutes away. I didn't turn on the TV or the radio or anything because I needed to be out the door and on the road for the afternoon classes. It wasn't until I was in the car that I started hearing snippets and I still couldn't piece together what was going on.

All I heard initially was that the city of Philadelphia was shut down, essentially. All the government buildings, all the subways, the schools, the stores, EVERYTHING. And I couldn't begin to fathom what could have been so horrible to shut the entire city down.

I picked up my cell phone, called my mom and asked her what the hell was happening. She said "You don't know? What time did you wake up?"

"Just now," I said, a little shaky because at this point, not knowing was almost worse than knowing.

"Two planes hit the World Trade Centers in New York and both buildings collapsed just a half an hour or so ago"

Even at that point, it still hadn't hit me. I just couldn't understand what was going on. I couldn't comprehend it but I knew I wasn't going anywhere near the city at the moment because I at least felt the fear that anyone located near a major metropolitan area within two miles did: we could be next.

Instead, I went to work, only because at the time, I happened to be working with my mom. And at the time, that was the only place I felt safe.

I called Steve to make sure he was ok and he was a bit reserved and laid back as usual. He's always been more calm and capable of handling things than me and he managed to calm me down a bit.

When I got to work, everyone was crowded around the TV, just watching. No one wanted to go back upstairs, no one wanted to work, no one wanted to do anything but stay near each other and the TV.

At that point, I figured I was there and might as well work, but nobody worked. When we finally went upstairs, we switched from the TV to news sites and feeds and spent the afternoon calling out updates and places to find information.

The next few weeks would be ripe with tension, especially for us, as there was significant possibility my dad would be called up. We were nervous and proud all at the same time. Thankfully, almost selfishly, he didn't have to go anywhere and we were grateful. We got lucky.

Five years later, I still feel a bit removed from the situation and I think it's because I never started out in it. Don't get me wrong - I understand the magnamity of it. It does not make me less sympathetic, less patriotic or less compassionate. I am thankful everyday for the men and women who are brave enough to go and fight for this country and for me and work everyday to keep us safe.

But even now, I think a part of me is unable to process it as emotionally as I want to because I never got to process it initially. There's parts that's not ready to face it, there's parts that are. There's parts that feel the need just to move on and parts that want to dwell because I feel that by missing out on it, I missed out on a piece of the mourning that everyone else felt.

I think I'm still all over the place at times. And as guilty as I feel about it, I sometimes feel lucky that I didn't see it immediately. Sometimes the easiest way to deal with things is to push them at arm's length and keep them there. And by sheer luck, sleeping late that morning helped me keep this at arm's length.

I'm sorry if this entry seems all over the place. I wanted to write something but what I had in my mind might not have come out as clear as I wanted or needed it to.

All I can say is that I'm proud of the men and women who serve our country and I feel for the families who have lost since this whole thing started. Five years later, it's still fresh in everyone's mind, even if some of us don't memories as clear as others. Sometimes I'd rather be lucky than guilty. Sometimes, it's only right to be guilty.