I don't mind spiders for the most part and tend to leave them be when I see them around my house. However, when the spider decides to crawl on me all bets are off. Sunday night I was sitting on the sofa finishing up the white scarf when I felt something tickling my arm. Out of the corner of my eye I saw what appeared to be white fuzz. I went to pick it off my arm and IT CRAWLED ACROSS MY HAND!! I screamed like the chick I am and leapt, yes, leapt off the sofa shaking violently. I then did the Heebie Jeebie dance to brush off any of his fellow spiders who may have had designs on me.
Then, yesterday morning, I'm driving along, singing badly, with the sunroof open when one of those nearly transparent spiders descends from the open roof onto my shifting arm. Thank God for side streets with little traffic, because you should have seen the contortions I performed trying to catch this sucker before he crawled away. I'm pretty spry for a fat chick.
And again, last night, during a pivotal scene in LOST, another dang spider decided it was a good idea to crawl on me. This one was IN MY HAIR. (excuse me while I shudder with a case of the willies).
What is up with the freakin' spiders? I thought parachute season was early fall. Unless these things start spelling out compliments in their webs I'm waging all out war. Stock quotes and movie reviews would also be welcome.
Bugs I will kill on sight:
Cockroaches--out live me, will ya? We'll see about that.
Ants--only inside the house where they invade my cupboard and form the Superhighway from the sink to the window. Outside we have no issues.
Unidentifyable bugs--I'd rather look up a dead bug online than to have it roam free while I figure out what it is.
Potato Bugs--not that I ever see them, but I want to know if they really do scream when you step on them, as I was told at Pete's funeral (see December posts).
Tent Catapillars--although they gave us plenty of entertainment during the May Crowning ceremony when one tried to crawl up Sister Holly's habit, they're kind of gross and the tenting on all the trees is bad.
Those big mosquitos--You know, I think they're the males. We don't see them in LA, but they were the bane of my existence in Pennsyltucky. Harmless, sure, but not very asthetically pleasing.
Cicadas--Thank God they only come around every seven years. Red eyes! 'nuf said.