Which, yes, is not an utterly groundbreaking statement, but I'm a flower-carrying zen-blooded hippie child who rescues worms off sidewalks after it rains and used to worry about eating carrots and breathing because vegetables and microbes are ALIVE!
However, I have a line, and that line is drawn at ANTS. OMG WTF EEEK ANTS!! I have crazeh deadly fear of ants. This one time, Target had this line of patio accessories that included foot-long ant statues and I literally had to bury my face in the back of Gira's shirt and have her lead me blindly out of the aisle to keep from passing out on the floor (and then being forced to be IN THE PRESENCE OF FAKE ANTS even longer!). If my future children hate me, they will bring home ant farms.
So you can imagine my utter joy to discover REAL LIVE ACTUAL ANTS in my bedroom. And sister's bedroom. They appear to have migrated in on a recent batch of CareFresh, and it is all together NOT. OKAY.
As the Rules of Engagement demand, I gave the ants a warning to Leave Peaceably And You Will Not Be Harmed. I have no problem with ants outside. They're all together reasonable insects (unlike, say, flying ants, which NO ecologists will EVER be able to convince me need to exist). One of the hippier of my parents' hippie friends swears by this mind-meld method of pest control, but I haven't been able to master it, perhaps because I never had a near-death experience while touring with the Greatful Dead, I don't know.
Sane people, like my sister, reccomend things like dropping by the Safeway and picking up ant traps and waiting for them to die off, during which time ANTS WILL STILL BE ON THE LOOSE. In the meantime, I have been twitching around my room all panicked and disinfecting my walls (the existance of ants makes me feel the need to sterilize EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER TOUCHED) and shooting ants with Fantastik.
Consider this just the opening volley, ants. All zen reservations are off.