Megan – 79; Arachnids – 0
18 Jul 2006 Leave a Comment
in Animals Tags: courage, Lysol, spiders
In the meanwhile, the arachnoid attack has begun once again. I have been fortunate enough not to have been directly approached by any unwanted little creeps. However, I have noticed an unusually high number of them and their webbed homes in the corners of the rooms, under window sills, and (I shudder to think) between the leaves of my beloved houseplants.
Under normal circumstances, I would command one of my housemates to dispose of the unwanted eight-leggers so that I would not have to deal with the possibility of retaliation. But seeing as how the house is in my sole custody until the end of the month, I must cope with the intruders alone.
It is generally known that I am far too terrified to draw near enough for proper skooshing. Once upon a time, I did attempt an offensive attack with the long handle of a broom on a medium-sized, spindly, weak-looking spider that had taken up residence behind our downstairs toilet. The rotten little bugger avoided the pressure of the broom handle by jumping aside at the last moment. Much to my horror, it then proceeded to scuttle down the length of the handle towards my hand. I prompty flung the broom into the bathroom, slammed the door and fled the house.
The problem with that scenario was that I gave my foe a solid means by which to cross enemy lines. I have since learned from that tactical error and have evolved my method of attack. Now, when I spot an unwanted intruder on the premises, I no longer reach for a long device with which to poke. I now reach for an aerosol can. I have avoided keeping Raid and other insecticides in the house, because they kill my plants and, quite frankly, I can’t stand the smell. However, I have discovered that a good spray of Lysol Spring Waterfall Disinfectant Spray not only allows me to eliminate my enemies from a distance, but leaves a fresh, clean scent worthy of my grandmother’s approval.
How bad has the invasion gotten, you ask? Let’s just say that my house smells really clean.
Boys are silly
19 Sep 2005 Leave a Comment
in Childlike Tags: breast, courage, giggling, mannequin, Victoria's Secret
During our latest trip to the mall for a romantic dinner at the local Friendly’s, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a gaggle of slightly prepubescent boys mingling in the entrance to Victoria’s Secret. I’m fairly certain that their mothers were shopping inside the store, as they seemed to be just a tad bit too young to be interested in women’s undergarments the way a teenaged boy would be. However, they were old enough to know that their mothers were in a very girly store, so they ventured only three feet inside, ready to bolt into the hallway the minute they were given the okay.
The boys were giggling a little too loudly, which aroused my suspicions that mischief was afoot. They were also looking at something just inside the store, so I followed their gazes.
Naturally, there were three mannequins posed provocatively in the entrance of the store, dressed only in lacy lingerie. Unnaturally, something was attached to the right breast of the center mannequin. That something was the hand of one of the boys, who was giggling just as furiously as (if not more than) his companions. He wasn’t fondling the mannequin; I believe his friends simply dared him to touch a representation of the female form in a forbidden place.
I’m really quite surprised that a store clerk didn’t chastise them, as the clerks in Vicky’s are particularly watchful about that sort of behavior. But that brave little kid had his hand on that plastic boob for the entire duration of our slow stroll past the store. Kudos to him.
The bravest little bug I have ever known
16 Aug 2005 Leave a Comment
in Animals, Nomadic Tags: courage, driving, insect, windshield
On my way to the library from work yesterday, I noticed a little green bug on my windshield wiper. It was a cute little bug: maybe an inch or two long, green, with teeny slits for eyes and teardrop-shaped wings that folded over its back like a tent. (Unfortunately, my attempts at discovering the proper name, and therefore a photograph, of this little bug were so far unsuccessful, so you’ll just have to use your imagination.)
The bug had fixated itself upon a particular spot on the right winshield wiper. Maybe it smelled nice. Who knows? However, in the presence of a such a puny little pest, my megalomaniacal human tendencies got the better of me, and I spent the next mile or so trying my best to forcibly detatch the bug from my windshield wiper. I depressed the accelerator, I turned the wipers on (slow, then fast), and I even turned on the wiper fluid, drenching the bug.
Much to my surprise, this tenacious little guy had a death grip on that windshield wiper. His wings were folded back, and like a canoe into a strong gale he turned himself so as to reduce the wind resistance. Although the wind picked up greatly as I increased speed, causing his body to shake and toss from side to side, he held on with all of his might. Despite all the trauma through which I had put him, this steadfast bug held on with a fortitude that impressed upon me a sense of pride, hope, and guilt. At this point, I couldn’t stop the car, as I was out of the city and on a fairly major road with no place to turn off. Two thoughts ran through my mind: I wondered how long he would be able to hang on, and I wondered why the hell he didn’t let go while he still had a chance to survive being whipped over the car? After a while, I found myself rooting for him, hoping that he could hold on until I was able to stop the car and set him free.
The bravest little bug I have ever known stayed attached to my right windshield wiper for a good four miles, through 40-mph winds and a slight drizzle. He finally released his hold from that sweet-smelling spot at the corner of US Route 206 and Darrah Lane. I had to proceed the last half-mile to the library alone, wondering whatever became of him. I hope he lived to tell of his adventure.
Charlotte is going down
08 Aug 2005 Leave a Comment
in Animals Tags: arachnophobia, courage, kamikaze, spiders
I seem to be under attack by hostile, eight-legged militants. In the past 48 hours I have skooshed no fewer than nine not-so-little kamikaze arachnids, three of them shortly after their emergence from seemingly the same point of origin under my bed, and one which happened to be skulking right towards me on my bed not 30 seconds ago.
I fear spiders. I fear them more than anything else on the planet, so much so that my skin crawls at even the sight of one captured forever in a photograph. Forget watching an arachno-mentary on the Discovery Channel. I am shocked at my own courage to boast that I have sat through Arachnophobia not once, but at least five times through in its entirety.
I believe that sneak attacks in the shower (such as the one I experienced this morning) warrant immediant skooshing, as do invasions into my sleeping space. Some may argue that skooshing is cruel, but my fear is so great that I would not be able to rest with the notion of little legs scuttling across my sleeping body (something to which I have woken up before…quite unsettling, to say the least) running through my mind.
What worries me the most is the attitude of these evil little soldiers. First of all, I think that they have coordinated their assaults with the schedules of the humans in this household. Specifically, I have only been attacked when alone in the house. I think they can sense my fear, and know that it takes an incredibly exhausting boost of courage on my part to approach my assailants, drawing near enough to counter-attack. (I have been known to stand for a good half-hour in a staring contest with the enemy, trying to determine whether it is really worth risking my life to skoosh it. Half of the time it isn’t.)
Secondly, and perhaps more worrisome, is the behavior of the spiders themselves when confronted. Most of the time, when I can muster enough nerve to retaliate, my nemesis will attempt to flee to a dark corner, where it will bide its time until I let my guard down. These Trenton spiders, however, seem to have taken on the demeanor of their human counterparts from this city. They do not flee, but rather stand their grounds, raising their front legs and bearing their fangs, obviously ready to fight me to the death.
Thank goodness for large, heavy books.
say what?