Friday, March 18, 2011

The One Where I Fight A Spider

I had the worlds WORST dreams last night. OK, maybe not the worst, but they were highly disturbing.

In the first one, I kept falling asleep at the wheel and spinning out of control on the highway. I was with Justin and some other guy that I've known forever, but I have honestly NEVER hung out with him and neither one offered to drive.

So after sliding off the road 3 times, we get pulled over. It's a lady policeman officer and she's like "Are you OK? We have witnesses that say you've been knocking people off the road." and then approximately 3 cars filled with angry Asian teens pull up beside the police car and start yelling at me in Chinese. (Because teenagers are the gold standard by which we all should drive?)

I get taken to a small police station in the middle of nowhere and the cop lady levels with me. "I won't lock you up, I'll even make it to where you don't have to go to court. You just have to pay this ticket before you can go."

"How much is the ticket?"

"It's only $500.00"

"But I don't have that much on my debit card!"

And it was 2am, and I didn't want my parents to know, so I was stuck in an ethical pickle, Roy. I mean, I was FREAKING OUT.

And then I woke up.

Second dream, one of my ex boyfriends reappeared to try and win me back. He'd been on a "Year-long pilgrimage of cool" and had rediscovered himself as a hipster artist. (Therefore cool enough to date me? Huh?) In reality, he just looked like a insane, not at all funny version of Bill Hader with crazy hair, Buddy Holly glasses, skinny jeans, a cut off sweatshirt and paint splatters all over him.

I woke up faster from that one, praise the Lord.

All in all, when I got up, I felt relieved that the ticket was false and my record was still clean, and I was just generally grossed out by the boyfriend dream. So grossed out that I needed a shower...immediately.

I turned on the water, and I was brushing all the nastiness out of my hair in preparation for shower time when I glanced at the floor and saw it.

Can you spot what might have possibly disturbed my otherwise calm pre-shower rituals?

Yep. We had a code nine arachnid situation, folks.

Now, see, back in my younger years, I used to catch bugs in the house and return them to there natural habitat of "not inside my house". I'd been known to do this for some spiders, too. Mostly jumping spiders. They were obviously lost, poor things. It wasn't their fault that their internal GPS had mistakenly led them inside my humble abode. I would find a cup, scoop them inside, place a kleenex buffer over the top of the cup (in case they were in a bitey mood), go out on the back deck and SET THEM FREEEEEE!!!

Upon closer inspection, I realized this little guy was halfway gone anyway. Poor thing.

I severely underestimated him.

He was not a kind little lost jumping spider.

This guy was pure evil. He wanted a fight. I could sense it. The force was strong with this one. (Too much?)

Who knew that spiders could be different nationalities?

Fortunately for me, I happened to have a pair of boots in my bathroom. (Don't judge me.) I can't remember exactly WHY they were in my bathroom, but this was clearly the hand of Providence.

Unfortunately for me, they were boots with a very round toe. Not optimal for killing a spider as there are lots of points of escape, but I had no time to be picky.

I missed. Apparently, I am as good at killing spiders as I am at golfing.

He sped up.

"That's it. You're going DOWN, you cocky little French spider, you!!!" I said, quite confident of myself.

And then that statement of confidence was followed by an "ARE YOU FOR REAL?!?!?!" as I missed AGAIN.

Oh. It was on. Like Donkey Kong. By the hammer of Thor, I was going to MUTILATE this thing.

I raised my "shoe hand" (the other one was holding my towel up, therefore it was called "towel hand") and with the look of a crazed, homicidal maniac, I brought the pain.

I hit my mark this time. And by hit, I mean "spewed steaming spider guts all over the floor".

A huge smile came over my face as I flushed his disgusting little carcass down the toilet.



  2. I don't know why, but the sisisterness (TOTALLY a word) just translated better in French. Maybe it was the cockiness factor. Who knows.

  3. This is the best post I've ever read in ever.

  4. BAHAHA, Libby!!! I'm glad you found it amusing.