So the other day I found myself standing outside in the rain watching a flying spider
That probably needs some explanation.
I was standing outside of St Bride’s church about a week ago contemplating on how crazy my life has gotten. Everything is completely freeform, and there are times when I look around in alarm and think, “Wait, what? How did I get here? It’s great, but I totally don’t get this.” On top of that, I also do a lot of “what am I doing? what am I going to do? And how come I’m always asking these questions?” I’m having to develop all kinds of faith and perserverance, and without degenerating into my usual grouchy “what on earth is HAPPENING to me?” ramble, it’s not a comfortable process. As a matter of fact, it’s an incredibly uncomfortable process because I have lived most of my life as a total control freak. By seeing that things are alright without me riding herd on everything Cruella DeVille style, I’m basically getting confirmation that a)I was wrong as hell to live that way and b)boy did I ever waste a lot of time thinking that that was going to get me anywhere.
Still, at the risk of being a little Gideon-esque, I’m always asking for confirmation that this is *really* the right thing. Or the right way. Or that I’m not somewhere sleeping on a park bench and any minute now I’ll get a rude awakening and realize that I’m still completely broke down back in D-Town. So I’m always pinching myself, for one, and asking for signs that I’m doing the right thing, for another.
This is where the spider comes in. Have I mentioned that I don’t like spiders? They provoke a completely irrational response from me, one that usually involves lot of screaming and running away. Basically, if you want to discover where the quickest exit is from a room that I’m in, put a spider in it too and follow the trail of destruction caused by me fleeing in the opposite direction. You can follow the high-pitched screaming sound, too, if that’s easier for you.
Still, for some reason, I’m standing outside of the church, in the rain, feeling completely miserable because boo-hoo, poor me, I’ve managed not to get my way in something again. Then I look up and see a great big brown spider, apparently crawling around unassisted in mid-air. Nothing holding it up. It’s just walking around on nothing, about eight inches above my face near the back gate.
Oooooo-kay. So I don’t scream, I don’t run. I give myself a precautionary pinch and blink a couple of times. Then I take a closer look and discover, hey! That spider isn’t walking in space, it’s really building a massive web between two pieces of the back gate. And that web is so thin and delicate and stretches over so much space that nobody can see it…but it’s there. It might look weird to passers-by to see a arachnid seemingly walking around in thin air, but does it care? No. It just keeps building. Who cares if nobody sees it? For that matter, who cares if everybody sees it? The web is still there.
Now there might be a little lesson contained in that picture, some thinly inspirational metaphor that pertains to faith or something like that, but I couldn’t really tell you what it is. This is because at about this point I realized that there was a GREAT BIG SPIDER dangling EIGHT INCHES from MY FREAKING FACE and ran back inside trying not to shriek like a little girl. Anything deep was instantly submerged under 26 years of extreme arachnophobia.
I did feel better, though.
**Gack, urgh, ack. I was going to post a picture of a spider on a web here, but I couldn’t stop shuddering and gagging long enough to actually post it. Y’all have the internet. Use google.com if you really want a visual.**
Two other things, then I’ll get off the internet.
One; I wish I was better with computers. I’m getting really tired of seeing this everytime I turn the electric dream machine on:
Two; am I the only person who remembers how much cooler Gwen Stefani was back in the No Doubt days?