8-Legged Freaks

Part the First

I had an unfortunate encounter with a spider. I had to make a card for my old roommate's wedding. I got out some patterned paper and started working. I looked up when something caught my eye. A spider ready to pounce and eat my face off. Well I wasn't about to have any of that! So I took a conveniently located plastic container with a lid and flicked the spider into it and shut the lid. No sooner had I done this than the spider started convulsing. I was the very definition of disgustingly fascinated. I had a lot to do that night...instead I spent the next 45 minutes watching this spider molt. You read correctly. The bugger shamelessly molted right in front of me. All 8 of his nasty legs gathered together in the air and then he slowly and gruesomely shed his old skin. There are no words to even describe this. Google a video of it or something. I refuse to watch it again so I'm not going to do that work for you. After 45 minutes of watching I left for my roommate's reception. When I got back later that night my spider had finally made it out of his old skin. He wasn't a whole spider anymore though. He had lost two of his legs to his old skin and now was merely a 6-legged freak. I flushed him down the toilet regardless of his leg count...goodness knows if I can't learn to love an 8-legged freak I could never learn to love a 6-legged one.

That last thought was a joke. I will never love a spider no matter how many legs he has.

Part the Second

3 days later I took a bathroom break at work. Somehow the toilet paper got rolled in on itself so I had to wrap it back up to get it out. When the last square of paper finally rolled properly...a living, breathing spider came with it. Ready to eat my face off. They tend to do that you know. I was utterly exposed and in one of the most vulnerable positions ever. I may have squealed a little bit. Then I came to my senses and grabbed a wad of toilet paper and smashed him. Please don't hate me for killing a spider. I normally don't. I make other people do it. Anyway, he died, my near-death experience was averted, and I was able to get back to work with my face fully intact.

Strays

Here are 5 of my 6 pairs of sunglasses. No, I am not obsessed. No, I don't collect. No, I do not wear them all. 4 of them wandered into my car and decided to stay. Seriously. The white pair and the red pair are mine. I own them. The three black pair could belong to anybody who has ever ridden in my car. There is a 4th pair that were in the car when I bought it. I don't know why but lonely pairs of sunglasses are attracted to me.

If anybody needs a new pair of sunglasses just let me know! I've got a couple I'm willing to give away...

A Story

I don't even know where to begin. A fair warning: this story has no end. In fact, I fear it has many more tragic chapters. Here are chapters 1 and 2.

Chapter 1-

There is only one place to start, and that is at the beginning. However, I don't quite know where the beginning is. So lets just say the beginning was when I was born.

Clothes have never been my thing. I like feeling free and unrestricted. Clothes do not allow this to happen. So: whenever the opportunity to be unrestricted arises I seize it. This does not mean I get naked. Lets not be vulgar. This means I wear a sun dress or a pair of loose pajama pants and a tank top.

We will start on a Sunday. I was getting ready for church. I put a slip on but decided to leave my skirt off until right before I walked out the door. Bad idea. I finished getting ready for church, but by this time I was running late. I ran into my room, threw on my shirt and shoes, grabbed my purse and ran out the door. I got across the street and past the neighbor's house before I realized how breezy it was. I looked down to see myself in: a slip. I totally spaced putting on my skirt. Slips do NOT replace skirts. You can often see through a slip. Yup, I could see right through it. I bolted (faster than I've ever bolted) back to the house and put on my skirt. You are probably wondering how I could forget something as important as the bottom half of my outfit. My answer is this: I have no idea.

Chapter 2 (this one is a doozy!)-

This chapter does not include one specific incident. It includes several, unfortunately. One time about a year ago I was getting ready for class one morning. I threw on my favorite shirt and headed off to class. Class was fine. The class after that was fine, too. After my second class I was done with school for the day. I headed out the door that led to where my car was parked. I headed down the stairs only to stop mid-stair and realize I had forgotten to put my bra on that morning. I quickly folded my arms in utter humiliation and smoothly made my way to my car. The End.

Except for this happens all the time. I've called my mom from work asking her to bring me a bra. Not a joke.

I average once a week of putting my shirt on before I realize I need a bra. Sorry world, that's just the way I roll.

Anyone with me on this? Please say yes!

Money

All of my spending money:

The good news in all of this? I actually have spending money.

The Rest

This story is getting old to me and I lived it. I can only imagine what it is doing to you folks! So I'll limit the words and finish up with pictures.

Kites on the beach:

The marble game I never conquered:

Mom's favorite treat ever in the world:

A lighthouse:

Our beach treasures:

Tillamook Cheese Factory! What a blessed day!

The cheese line with all different kinds of cheeses:

BORING drive home:

Jump!

Oregon: Food

My wish in Oregon was to eat seafood by the...sea. I finally got my wish the night before we left. We went to Mo's which is right on the beach. Here was the view from our table:

Here is Mom eating clam chowder for the second time in 1 day. Clam chowder on the coast is the bomb.

Dad and Alyssa enjoying their food:

Yum, yum, yum!

Sunsets in Oregon

I am sick of going day-to-day. Now I shall go by category. This category is: Sunsets in Oregon.

Lovers on the beach:

Check out them clouds!

This is a favorite:

As is this:

Next category will be: food.