Um.
Well, I had a website, but I got tired of it because I felt like I had to keep things organized. And keeping things organized is not exactly something I'm good at. So after trying and failing multiple times to keep it updated, I decided it would just be much simpler to start a blog, because this way I can post whatever I feel like on any given day. Hopefully it will be creative and inspiring (but no promises). Now I don't HAVE to draw a picture, or design something, or write a silly poem. I can be...duh duh duhhhh....CREATIVE! :D
So yeah. I hope you like my new logo. As a graphic design fanatic I was completely over-excited about it and jumped up and down for a full five minutes, until I realized it's probably not as awesome as I think it is. Oh well. But it still makes me happy!
Now, I am going to write a story (with illustrations! yippee!) because I think it might be cool. So here goes.
One of my worst fears is spiders. I absolutely hate them. I know, you don't have to tell me it's completely irrational. Believe me, I am fully aware that I am bigger than them, and that they should instead be afraid of me and my giant, killing shoes. But it doesn't work. My brain can't seem to grasp that concept, and over and over again I am reduced to a screaming, cowering, sometimes crying mess when confronted with the hideous things.
I'm pretty sure my fear has something to do with their legs, and they way they move. When a spider is still, it is scary. When it starts moving, it is terrifying. Remember this point, because it will be important later.
When I was ten, after years of hearing "DAD! QUICK! COME KILL THIS SPIDER! IT'S GOING TO EAT ME ALIIIIIVEEEEE!!!" my parents decided it was time for a "growth opportunity" (never a good phrase to hear) and attempted to make me kill a spider they had found on the wall of their bedroom. I think we battled it out for a full half hour (sorry mom!) while I screamed and cried and sat on the ground, refusing to kill the thing. After all, I was sure it was the last thing I would ever do. I could see it clearly - I would take my tissue, hesitate, brace myself, then go in for the kill. But too slowly. The all powerful, intuitive spider would sense the threat and would leap, not only out of harm's way, but onto my outstretched hand. It would run up my arm, across my face and into my screaming mouth, where it would find itself trapped and would slowly eat it's way out of me to escape. Biting is the only thing spiders are good for, and because this particular one was so small, it would most likely take a year to get out, while I helplessly would suffer and be eaten alive from the inside out.
Okay. So that was kind of dramatic. I didn't actually think that would happen. But that's the level of fear that I was experiencing - totally irrational. But I didn't care! My parents were trying to put my life on the line, all for some stupid growth opportunity.
Eventually, they won out and I squished the spider and flushed it down the toilet, sobbing while I did so. I was so sure I was going to miss and that would be the end of my life as I knew it, but somehow I managed to kill the thing and get rid of it for good. (Thank you to the person who invented the toilet.)
Fast forward a couple years, to about two months ago. I am still terrified of spiders, but (much to my loathing) I am now better at killing them because of that "growth opportunity". Unless they happen to outsmart me.
Let me introduce you to the two spiders that currently live in my shower, Charlotte and Peter.
I drew them cute like that on purpose, because otherwise I would be scared of my own blog and might risk not being able to post anything ever again.
Anyways, at first it was just Charlotte. She was very small two months ago, so my fear on a scale of 1 to 10 was about a four. I was taking a shower, and as usual I checked the window above me to see if there were any threats to my safety. Sure enough, yet ANOTHER spider had decided to set up camp right above my head. I didn't want to get out of the warm shower for tissue. It was only a four spider, and five more minutes probably wasn't going to kill me. I hoped. However, I keep jerking my head up to make sure it didn't move, particularly towards me. It was very difficult to close my eyes when I was rinsing my hair, so I tried to do it as quickly as possible, and ended up not getting all the shampoo out.
I finished my shower and got out to dry off, discovered that my hair was still full of both shampoo and conditioner, and spent the next ten minutes with my head in the sink, trying to fix it. Which made me forget all about the little spider in the shower I had intended to kill once I was dry.
The next day, I was taking a shower when I glanced up, jumping when I saw the forgotten spider. But this time, instead of being out in the open where I could kill it, the stupid thing was under the window ledge where it would be much more difficult to reach. Furious, I grabbed a wad of tissue and attempted to slay the beast. Of course, I missed, and it scuttled further under the ledge, making it impossible for me to get it. I finished my shower with my eyes locked on the place where it had disappeared.
The next several showers were awful. The spider would NOT MOVE. It stayed just out of reach, right where I could see it and fear it, but not kill it. It was maddening. I now had to keep an eye on it, and could not enjoy my shower at all.
Apparently this was one smart spider, because over the course of several weeks I never saw it change positions. And the weird thing was that I was actually becoming used to observing the spider whenever I showered. I decided it was a girl, and I promptly named her Charlotte. So original, I know. But it helped my fear, giving her a name.
One day I was watching Charlotte, as had become my showering routine, and as I stared, a pincher bug scurried along the wall and into her web. If there is one thing I hate almost as much as spiders, it is pincher bugs. I therefore did nothing to save the creature, I just watched in morbid fascination. Charlotte then moved for the first time in a month, proceeding to wrap the bug securely by scurrying around and around it with silk. (Yes, in my fascination, I completely lost the opportunity to kill her when she was exposed.)
I won't go into the details of what happened next, because they are quite gruesome. But I ran myself out of hot water while I watched Charlotte eat the pincher bug. It was gross, but kind of cool at the same time. I wasn't sure I was rooting for the spider the whole time, because I hate both spiders and pincher bugs, but it was like an epic battle of two monsters. Eventually, Charlotte was won and she returned to her usual position, completely bloated.
After losing my chance to kill Charlotte, I decided maybe she was useful after all. She did save me from having to deal with an evil pincher bug. (are they also called earwigs? I forget.) So I kindly decided to let her abide in the shower a while longer. Of course, I sort of had to, because she liked her unmoving position of safety.
I guess I can show you her clever little setup, while I introduce you to Peter.
Another month passed, and Charlotte got bigger. A lot bigger. I guess more bugs invade my bathroom than I know of, because she had to be eating a lot.
Then one day, lo and behold, a spider had joined her. He (I knew instantly it was a he, he had come to marry Charlotte and populate the world with more evil) was even bigger, and unlike quiet, unassuming Charlotte, he liked to MOVE.
Remember when I said it's the movement of spiders that freaks me out?? Well, this new spider was freaking me out. After two months I was finally able to handle Charlotte, but this addition gave me the creeps.
However, I still felt sort of bad for the newcomer. I had made a pact with Charlotte not to kill her, provided that she do her part and eat the bugs when I wasn't there, and leave me alone when I showered. It would be mean to kill her husband, without giving him a chance first. So I named him Peter, after Spider Man. What I didn't know is that he would take on the full meaning of his name, and become virtually invincible!
Charlotte must have told him about the powers of the ledge, because while Peter likes to move, he makes sure he only moves UNDER THE LEDGE. I still can't reach either of them, and I now have to be more alert when I shower, because Peter hasn't proven that he isn't going to kill me yet.
This has become a really long story, and I apologize. I guess it really doesn't have a proper ending either, because both Charlotte and Peter are still there, waiting in the shower.
But I'm thinking Peter has to go. And then maybe Charlotte will die of grief. And all my problems will be solved! Maybe I can write a sequel, if they ever die.
Until next time,
~Melody
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