The other day I nearly had an out of body experience while I was in the shower. I was washing the goo off my face when my spidey sense started tingling. I turned around and there was a gigantic spider trying (and failing) to climb up the side of the tub. My initial response was to jump out of my skin and drown him, but then I remembered that I think everyone deserves a second chance so I took a deep breath and opened the window next to me. Then I got a tube of body wash (aka soap) and let the spider crawl onto it.
After the bug was safely ensconced on my tube, I carefully conveyed it to the window where I shook it to the ground. Or the maw of some waiting predator...It occured to me later that the spider could have easily jumped off the tube ( I hate when they do that) and lowered itself on a web. In which case, it could have easily gotten stuck to my wet skin.
If that had happened, I would have run full tilt boogie, stark raving naked out my front door into my front yard, screaming. My neighbor would have called the police and when they showed up, I would have had to explain to the cop what the hell I was doing naked and wet in my front yard with a spider stuck to me. That would have been embarassing. And cold.
Nevertheless, I still believe in second chances. Like this weekend, I was watching football and I actually found myself rooting for Michael Vick. Yeah, the same Michael Vick who tortured dogs and ran a dogfighting kennel. He was convicted and spent a couple of years in prison. I personally think he got off kind of easy, but he did the time he was given and he's out now.
Michael Vick is an athlete and has found himself a job as an NFL quarterback. He's probably getting paid a buttload of cash, but that's what people in his line of work get paid. He shouldn't be given a pass for his horrific crimes and he wasn't. But he should get a second chance. Like my spider.
Here's the deal, though, if that arachnid ever shows his face in my tub again I might have to squash him into a pile of eight legged gunk and wash him down the drain. How will I know its him? Well, spiders are territorial and it takes a lot of spider chow to grow one of them up to the almost tarantula size this bad boy had attained. Odds are good that my spider is the only one of his size in the immediate vicinity. So I'll know if its him.
And if Michael Vick ever gets more agressive with a dog than giving it a belly rub, his football career should be squashed and he should be washed down whatever passes for a drain in the penal system. Maybe he could have to pick the dead, wet spider off me. If that ever happens for real.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Been Around That Block...That One Too!
Last night I was happily sitting on the floor watching TV when the hub said "Your blog is old - you need to write something!" Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, the problem is that I've been just a teeny bit focused on baseball of late what with my beloved Giants becoming WORLD CHAMPIONS and all...Plus, I've been told that my musings might be a bit baseball-centric and I should branch out. So after the next paragraph, I will. I swear.
The hub, daughter unit and I got up early on Wednesday to go to the Giants' victory parade. It was so early, I think heard dawn actually crack. We took BART to the City and, with over 1,000,000 like minded peeps, we yelled, waved and shook stuff at our heroes as they passed by in motorized cable cars. It was cool to see them even though Tim Lincecum was waving out the other side of the car and the freakishly handsome Javier Lopez was in the middle of an interview inside the car when he went by so we couldn't see them. That's OK, they were having fun and we were happy to get the chance to celebrate. Plus we went out to Yank Sing's afterward for some dim sum that was so good I think my socks actually rolled up and down.
I got to thinking on the way home that everybody needs a parade or its equivalent at least once in their life. A few weeks ago, I was watching the Today Show and they celebrated a mom whose kid had cancer. They gave her a special song. That's like a parade. I had a kid with cancer - its hard to watch. The chemo makes them nauseous and they cry a lot. This lady's kid survived, as mine did, but the lady was changed. Me too! I still take Paxil so I don't bust into a cold sweat and start drooling and making grunting noises when I get stuck in traffic.
Once when we were at a Giants' game, there were some people from Donate Life on the field. They got to throw out the first pitch and carry around one of those really cool over sized checks. It was very parade-y. They were promoting organ donation. I know a lot about that since my cancer surviving kid had a heart transplant! Always an over achiever, that one! She couldn't have gone for a downstream organ like a liver or a kidney (she lost one of those during the cancer fiasco...) no - my baby went heart. And she's doing really well now. I'm still on Paxil...
There was also an Awareness Day for dyslexia and ADHD. I totally identified with those parade subjects. That same kid again... Same prescription for me. I gotta say, though, that the dyslexia gave me the opportunity to read some of the books I had skillfully avoided in school. Since she read slowly I got to read some of her texts and literature books to her through high school and college. I don't like to go against all those years of history, but what is the big deal about The Catcher in the Rye? I thought it kind of blew. Also discovered I'm not a big fan of Hemingway. The son unit put it well when he said "He just writes about spoiled rich people who drink too much and think they have problems." Yup. He was kind of a pig. Totally loved Ray Bradbury, though, and Richard Bradford. Maybe its the "Brad" in their names. I like people named Brad. There should be a Brad parade.
Eating disorders are the topic of many parade-ish shows on TV. I have one of those - well, not a diagnosed one, but if you have a mom who always tells you that you need to lose weight - even when you're a sylph-like teenager, you're liable to develop an unhealthy attitude about food. I grew to be a fatty and my mom warned me (almost daily) about the danger to my heart of excess weight. "You could have a stroke or a heart attack" she would say.
So I did. It was an itty bitty heart attack, but a real stroke which knocked me out of commission for a while and ultimately, I think, resulted in me being fired. Actually, I think that my mom made me have the stroke. She passed away seven months before I had it, but I think her spirit continued to roam the earth, unable to complete her journey until she made sure I'd lose weight. I think if you look at the path of the stroke in my brain, it probably resembles my mom's finger (with a red polished nail). I'm skinny now. Thanks Mom. Now I'd look good in one of those awesome red dresses celebrities parade around in for heart health...
Anyway, I think I need a parade. Or a visit to Ellen, who is my favorite celebrity. Or I could throw out a first pitch. To Ellen. Whatever. The person who really deserves the parade is the daughter unit. That cancer surviving, dyslexic, heart transplant survivor. I'd march in it...
The hub, daughter unit and I got up early on Wednesday to go to the Giants' victory parade. It was so early, I think heard dawn actually crack. We took BART to the City and, with over 1,000,000 like minded peeps, we yelled, waved and shook stuff at our heroes as they passed by in motorized cable cars. It was cool to see them even though Tim Lincecum was waving out the other side of the car and the freakishly handsome Javier Lopez was in the middle of an interview inside the car when he went by so we couldn't see them. That's OK, they were having fun and we were happy to get the chance to celebrate. Plus we went out to Yank Sing's afterward for some dim sum that was so good I think my socks actually rolled up and down.
I got to thinking on the way home that everybody needs a parade or its equivalent at least once in their life. A few weeks ago, I was watching the Today Show and they celebrated a mom whose kid had cancer. They gave her a special song. That's like a parade. I had a kid with cancer - its hard to watch. The chemo makes them nauseous and they cry a lot. This lady's kid survived, as mine did, but the lady was changed. Me too! I still take Paxil so I don't bust into a cold sweat and start drooling and making grunting noises when I get stuck in traffic.
Once when we were at a Giants' game, there were some people from Donate Life on the field. They got to throw out the first pitch and carry around one of those really cool over sized checks. It was very parade-y. They were promoting organ donation. I know a lot about that since my cancer surviving kid had a heart transplant! Always an over achiever, that one! She couldn't have gone for a downstream organ like a liver or a kidney (she lost one of those during the cancer fiasco...) no - my baby went heart. And she's doing really well now. I'm still on Paxil...
There was also an Awareness Day for dyslexia and ADHD. I totally identified with those parade subjects. That same kid again... Same prescription for me. I gotta say, though, that the dyslexia gave me the opportunity to read some of the books I had skillfully avoided in school. Since she read slowly I got to read some of her texts and literature books to her through high school and college. I don't like to go against all those years of history, but what is the big deal about The Catcher in the Rye? I thought it kind of blew. Also discovered I'm not a big fan of Hemingway. The son unit put it well when he said "He just writes about spoiled rich people who drink too much and think they have problems." Yup. He was kind of a pig. Totally loved Ray Bradbury, though, and Richard Bradford. Maybe its the "Brad" in their names. I like people named Brad. There should be a Brad parade.
Eating disorders are the topic of many parade-ish shows on TV. I have one of those - well, not a diagnosed one, but if you have a mom who always tells you that you need to lose weight - even when you're a sylph-like teenager, you're liable to develop an unhealthy attitude about food. I grew to be a fatty and my mom warned me (almost daily) about the danger to my heart of excess weight. "You could have a stroke or a heart attack" she would say.
So I did. It was an itty bitty heart attack, but a real stroke which knocked me out of commission for a while and ultimately, I think, resulted in me being fired. Actually, I think that my mom made me have the stroke. She passed away seven months before I had it, but I think her spirit continued to roam the earth, unable to complete her journey until she made sure I'd lose weight. I think if you look at the path of the stroke in my brain, it probably resembles my mom's finger (with a red polished nail). I'm skinny now. Thanks Mom. Now I'd look good in one of those awesome red dresses celebrities parade around in for heart health...
Anyway, I think I need a parade. Or a visit to Ellen, who is my favorite celebrity. Or I could throw out a first pitch. To Ellen. Whatever. The person who really deserves the parade is the daughter unit. That cancer surviving, dyslexic, heart transplant survivor. I'd march in it...
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