when i said it on tv, i meant it

dear mom,
thank you for instilling in me a completely irrational yet nonetheless terrifying fear of spiders. they are different than other bugs and all, with their extra 2 legs and creepy disposition. i'm sure i'll enjoy clutching onto my trusty bug spray for the duration of my stay in my new apartment.
always twitching,
dana

early tuesday, 2AM: a rustling from the corner of my eye. i look down to spy a spider darting across the camoflauge of a brown and gray carpet.
2:05 i unsuccessfully throw my caboodle at it. even the johnny k sticker on its bottom can't help me now.
2:08 i contemplate waking the boys... marc is sick and has work in a few hours, zach has class and has trouble sleeping as it is.
2:10 i contemplate getting a shoe, but realize that no sweat shop flip flop can take on this job.
2:11 i remember the bug spray in the kitchen
2:12 i whine to myself, tiptoeing about, recognizing the ludicrous behavior i am exhibiting, and yet i'm completely unable to stop it.
2:15 i finally resolve that if i leave the room quickly enough, it will still be there when i return. i dart to the kitchen, and successfully return with both the spray and an opaque plastic cup
2:16 i move my desk chair just above where the spider lies. if it darts, i don't want it to touch me. hold about 12" from surface being sprayed, says the trusty red can
2:17 i take aim, finger trembling at the trigger. i want to turn away, but no, it's too dangerous. one slip up and he could get away, free to lurk in the shadows of the night. suddenly i squeeze. rushes of repellent shoot from the little red can. forceful and ridden with poisons they fall upon my now helpless aquantance. i cover him with the plastic cup as to spare him the humiliation of recoiling in shame before my eyes.

and so it is morning. alisson has come to visit and we're enjoying some lovely pancakes while discussing religion, feminism and various other fabulous brunch subjects.
enter bryan, jumping through the back door and strolling over to our modest table. he wears girl's jeans and flips his hair relentlessly, but still i ask. bryan, can you try and do something manly for me? i ask out of both sexism and desperation.

alisson and i guide him to the scene of the crime. he eagerly lifts the cup to find that the intruder has indeed passed in the night. he reaches down and tosses him playfully from side to side.

suddenly, the spider is in bryan's palm. i attempt to retreat to the bathroom, spying the eyes of a mad man. bryan anticipates this move, however, and lunges for the door, storming in behind me. there is no light, and there are no sounds other than my screaming as bryan pretends to have thrown the spider in my hair. alisson tries to get in, yelling for him to stop but i am pressed against the door, flailing about relentlessly as bryan cackles above me.

3 things:
-i will be doing extensive vacuuming tomorrow
-raid bug killer is my bitch tonight, kids.
-and as for bryan? he's simply a bitch.