I've expressed my displeasure with spiders. Yes, they are neato critters really. Alien and robotic. Graceful. Clever. Evil...
Yes, spiders are really interesting. I like watching shows about them, but even then I get really uncomfortable, fidgety, sweaty, when the spider is shown so close on tv.
This picture actually makes me kind of ill...and I feel the need to flee.
I like fictional spiders (Charlotte!) and toy spiders and itsy bitsy spiders, but I just can't handle real ones bigger than about a half inch. I'd rather be in a room with a 1000 snakes than with a dozen large spiders.
I can admire one making its web from a few feet away ---but only if it is locate absolutely nowhere near my home so that I can escape it afterward.
By the way, I just found an image of the new Charlotte for the live-action "Charlotte's Web," and I'm declaring her a freaking monster. She looks too much like a real spider for me to ever ever watch this movie. Well, that and the fact that this story makes me cry. At least now I can blame my tears on spider horror.
That's not MY Charlotte!!!
Life experience relevant to my latest spider rant:
The other night I was reading in bed when I saw something black buzz around overhead; thought it was a fly. I waved my hand, and it seemed to go away and come right back. I looked up, and it was a freaking black spider lowering itself on a web straight down to my face. AAARGH!!
I ducked off the bed as low and fast as I could without running into the dangler. I swatted at him with my book, and he disappeared. Oh yeah, that's my favorite: NO BODY. NO WAY TO BE SURE I'M SAFE.
Is anyone ever really safe with this thing out there somewhere?
Well, the spider wasn't that big. Just above the size limit for cute and harmless, though. At least he was off his web and away from the bed, so I probably wouldn't see him again any time soon.
I went back to reading, and about 10 minutes later I saw something black scurry down from my shoulder. By the time I could fathom this was actually the spider, he was running down my chest and across my stomache. I could feel him through my t-shirt. I screamed "F*&cking Sh*T!!!!!" or something equally classy as I waved my arms around 100mph and jumped off the bed.
There he was on the bed, having fallen off of me. I picked up a magazine and swatted him. NO BODY. I looked at the magazine. NO BODY. The floor, nothing. Grrrr....
Ok, I was sure at this point the spider was injured, possibly dead, and he at least knew I meant business. So went back to reading.
Oh, but about ten minutes later THAT FREAKING SPIDER CAME DOWN ON A WEB RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE AGAIN.
I scream, ducked out from under it and lunged off the bed. I took the magazine and slapped at the spider very carefully this time. But, no, are you kidding me? NO BODY AGAIN.
Now I was just mad, not scared. How dare he do that THREE times? Doesn't he have anything better to do???
I kept reading then, no problem, for about an hour. The chances of running into this spider had now become astronomical, or some other big word that properly applies here.
When I was done reading I got up and smoothed the covers back. I found the spider's body curled up in a small fold there, right where I'd been. I actually felt bad then, realizing that I'd managed to take down this relentless little fellow after all. I didn't want it to happen BY ANY MEANS, but it's almost like he deserved to get a bite in for all his trouble.