pho·bi·a n.
A persistent, irrational, intense fear of a specific object, activity or situation (the phobic stimulus), fear that is recognised as being excessive or unreasonable by the individual himself.
A lot of people claim to have arachnophobia. And yeah, I don't think many people are really into the thought of having lots of little creepy-crawlies all over their bodies or anything. But I used to have a really big problem with spiders. A phobia, one might say. A paralyzing fear. I read far too many articles in Readers Digest at one point, I think.
There was one night, I forget the circumstances of why I got up in the middle of the night -- needed a drink or the bathroom or something. I never would have normally turned on the light in the hall to go downstairs, but on this particular night I did for some reason. On the stairs was a huge spider... maybe a little smaller than a half-dollar, but that's pretty big for someone who is scared of them. I simply could not make myself go down the stairs... and I certainly couldn't get close enough to kill it. If I remember correctly, I went and dialed our own phone number so that it would ring downstairs. I woke my mom up with that, and she came up and got the spider so I could go down.
I was forced to get over this problem when I lived in the woods of Michigan. They were just unavoidable. The only ones I really hated were those jumping hairy ones. I still hate them.
I say all of the above to preface the tale of my experience from last night.
I walked up to my door... and there on the step was the largest spider I have ever seen in real life. I am absolutely not kidding when I say that it was the size of my palm with its legs. The abdomen or "butt" or whatever you want to call it was the size of a blow-pop. My only thought was "Must Kill". I certainly could not step on it and risk missing and having it climb up my leg or anything. So I took the grass to get to the door, went inside, threw my stuff down, and went to get the bug spray. By the time I returned, it had galloped off. As of this moment, he is still at large... though I sprayed the foundation of the house in hopes he was hiding in a crevice somewhere.
These are two articles I really didn't just need to read: Brown Recluse in Tennessee and Between brown recluse and black widow, tiny arachnids can cause not-so-itsy-bitsy problems
I'm moving.
Song for the Day:
Where the River Runs Deep - Cissy Etheridge
This is a great song... soon everyone will know it. This chick is really awesome, and I can't wait until she has some of her music on CD for purchase.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I decided over the weekend that I am going to singlehandedly try to bring back usage of the word "malarkey".
ma·lar·key n. Slang
Exaggerated or foolish talk, usually intended to deceive: “snookered by a lot of malarkey” (New Republic).
A persistent, irrational, intense fear of a specific object, activity or situation (the phobic stimulus), fear that is recognised as being excessive or unreasonable by the individual himself.
A lot of people claim to have arachnophobia. And yeah, I don't think many people are really into the thought of having lots of little creepy-crawlies all over their bodies or anything. But I used to have a really big problem with spiders. A phobia, one might say. A paralyzing fear. I read far too many articles in Readers Digest at one point, I think.
There was one night, I forget the circumstances of why I got up in the middle of the night -- needed a drink or the bathroom or something. I never would have normally turned on the light in the hall to go downstairs, but on this particular night I did for some reason. On the stairs was a huge spider... maybe a little smaller than a half-dollar, but that's pretty big for someone who is scared of them. I simply could not make myself go down the stairs... and I certainly couldn't get close enough to kill it. If I remember correctly, I went and dialed our own phone number so that it would ring downstairs. I woke my mom up with that, and she came up and got the spider so I could go down.
I was forced to get over this problem when I lived in the woods of Michigan. They were just unavoidable. The only ones I really hated were those jumping hairy ones. I still hate them.
I say all of the above to preface the tale of my experience from last night.
I walked up to my door... and there on the step was the largest spider I have ever seen in real life. I am absolutely not kidding when I say that it was the size of my palm with its legs. The abdomen or "butt" or whatever you want to call it was the size of a blow-pop. My only thought was "Must Kill". I certainly could not step on it and risk missing and having it climb up my leg or anything. So I took the grass to get to the door, went inside, threw my stuff down, and went to get the bug spray. By the time I returned, it had galloped off. As of this moment, he is still at large... though I sprayed the foundation of the house in hopes he was hiding in a crevice somewhere.
These are two articles I really didn't just need to read: Brown Recluse in Tennessee and Between brown recluse and black widow, tiny arachnids can cause not-so-itsy-bitsy problems
I'm moving.
Song for the Day:
Where the River Runs Deep - Cissy Etheridge
This is a great song... soon everyone will know it. This chick is really awesome, and I can't wait until she has some of her music on CD for purchase.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I decided over the weekend that I am going to singlehandedly try to bring back usage of the word "malarkey".
ma·lar·key n. Slang
Exaggerated or foolish talk, usually intended to deceive: “snookered by a lot of malarkey” (New Republic).
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