You know what I’m talking about. My most feared and loathed of all creatures. Those eight-legged night-stalkers that wait until you least expect it to pop up in your face and say “Bahaaa!! I’ma getchu sucka!”. They stay lurking in the shadows all day and night until they are certain you’ve forgotten they are there, and there they go again! Stomping on your hopes and trampling all your dreams.

Just yesterday I encountered not one or two, but FOUR of these craptastic fellas in the basement, waiting to hop into my clean laundry pile and hitch a ride upstairs so they can more easily attack me in my sleep.

As most people know, and as you can tell from what I’ve said so far, I have an oddly ludicrous fear and paranoia of these things. I sense them when they are in the room. I see even the tiniest little bugger when other people have to search even after I’ve pointed it out. And yet I’m so incredibly phobic that I cannot even get close enough to kill one, much less clean up the aftermath. It’s bad. And it’s a good thing I don’t live alone.

However, I will say that the one spider I can deal with are daddy long legs. Maybe it’s knowing that they can’t possible hurt me if they wanted to, or the fact that I used to play with them as a kid. But I’m pretty sure it’s due to the fact that I picture them as a lanky, doofy thing with a cartoon smiling face.

All other spiders are fair game. They can be minuscule, and to me they are terrifying. But the fear does grow the larger the spider is. But I imagine all spiders are out to get me. They know I am more afraid of them than anything in this world, and they thrive on the adventure of encroaching on my safe space, my once bug-free house, and semi-normal basement. But the basement to me is now their space. I cannot go down those stairs without the feeling of something watching me, waiting for just the right moment.

I’m quite certain that these beings could withstand the fiery depths of Hell and return to taunt me. Laugh at my uneasiness and feed off of my anxiety.

Next step: Have a spider-free house. Good luck to me on that one. They always know where I am. And they will come for me.

The more I go out in public–at least in this area–the more I am dumbfounded by the things people do, and in no way can I ever begin to understand what their actual thought processes are.

In one day I saw more confusing and frustrating things than I can even describe, but I can sure try.

A lady was leaving the park, in her car, driving insanely slow, partially on the wrong side of the road off and on, almost stopping at a few different points for no reason at all. What..?? Definitely aggravating when you are driving behind her, but seriously, lady, are you drunk? High? Can you just not drive and chose a Sunday afternoon to try and teach yourself? I know most people around here cannot drive in an acceptable manner but she was a bit ridiculous.

When I was waiting to turn out of the neighborhood, a man drove past while giving me a pointer-finger wave. Now this was index–not middle–finger. It was not a friendly, just-for-the-heck-of-it “howdy” wave, because his face was slightly more awkward than “hello”. It was more of a smirk. And the wave appeared to be more of a “tisk, tisk, you’ve done something wrong” one-finger wave. And all I could think was, What did I do? I’m just sitting here, waiting my turn to drive, and this is the response I get? Who are you? And what does it matter to me? It did only take him 2 seconds to drive past me, but yes, I really did have all of these thoughts after that measly occurrence, because I questioned it that much. That man was just that odd to me.

Maybe slightly more odd than the teenagers at the store later that evening, but then again maybe not. These special beings were either just plain weird or maybe they thought they were the next famous comedy act that would never make it past the first show. Either way, they were walking through the store wearing footed pajamas. Nothing else. No shoes required, because HEY, they have built-in shoes! In their pajamas! Pajamas that are now apparently designed for outdoor use. As comfy as they may be, all fleecy and warm, they are not meant for public appearances.

There are plenty of dumb things that happen every day. People just aren’t bright. And I may never be able to make sense out of things they do. Why drive like a moron? Why have three-inch long fingernails? Why act and dress half your age? Why speak in such a way that no regular person can begin to comprehend? Why turn your 1998 Neon into a tricked out racing machine?

Nobody Knows.

Basically, all I learn from observing people (aside from getting irritated) is that people do dumb things because they can. And other people let them. And with enough dumb people doing dumb things, it has basically become a part of accepted society. But really, all it does is make me not want to be in public anymore. I do what I can to avoid people that I don’t know. And sometimes, after spending enough time at the store or gas station or a restaurant, I think that is okay.

So it has come to my attention that I think often about past events, and maybe it might behoove me to take note of some of the more interesting occurrences in my life. Not that all of them are all that entertaining, but maybe at some point in time they were fun for someone, and maybe at some point they may be worth remembering. So I might as well take a shot at it.

High school brought the most memorable moments that I can recall at the moment. The first item that comes to mind is the small group of cheerleaders that formed our special little “clan” to sneak around on the weekends and TP random people. Always people we knew. Not even always people we disliked entirely. It was just fun to do. We cruised around in the station wagon with piles of toilet paper in the back. We tried to avoid the white vans that drove around the town at night seeking out people like us. Trying to destroy our fun. A couple of us mastered the art of unlocking the school’s toilet paper holders with a bobby pin to get the giant rolls. However we could only do this during half-time at the football games when no one was around. And as it turns out, these rolls are only useful on bushes, since throwing them through the air does not end well. There was even a case where tuna came into play. This lucky person was actually a friend of one of the girls. Surprise! But I cannot reveal any of the houses where these events occurred. All I can say is that this is what we cheerleaders resorted to for fun on the weekends when we did not have games. We were not bad kids, we were just occasionally motivated to ruin people’s days. It happens.

At the moment I’ve drawn a blank to any other events. My life has just been that eventful.

I do have to point out, however, that I just witnessed a commercial that stated, “If you are between the ages of 0 and 85, call [insert phone number].” Seriously? Age 0?? That would mean that you either do not exist, or you are still in the womb. And that would definitely be something everyone would be amazed to see. A fetus with a cell phone calling the phone number from the television. Or even a toddler that is over the age of “0″. Why would a child be expected to pick up the phone to call about senior life insurance? Honestly people will do anything with these dang commercials to make everyone feel like it is urgent that they call NOW! When chances are, most people don’t need to call them at all. We would just like to be left alone. To watch our midnight programming. And terrible movies that they allow on television. Got to love terrible scripts mixed with terrible acting. Makes for a good show.