Spider-Killing

You may be wondering why I have not posted recently. Yes, I know what you're thinking. What could an ex-English student possibly be doing these days -- other than attending job training sessions, writing NCIS fan fiction, and baking delectable cornbread and not-so-delectable shoo-fly pie?

Ha ha! I shall tell you. I have been...

*must insert NCIS dialogue here*

Abby: "Can I at least get a drum roll?"
Gibbs: "Ta dah."
Abby: "Pathetic."

*ahem*

So anyway, I have been, drum roll please...Spider-Killing!

Yes, indeed, ladies and gentleman, the faithful two (or maybe three, my dear Hattie/Laura?) who read this blog, 'tis the season. It is hot and humid, and the spiders have all come out.

In case you didn't know, I am highly arachnophobic. Just ask Clair, lol.

Last night I looked up as I was brushing my teeth and saw a slender nondescript spider hanging upside down from its web on the ceiling.

"Spider...must...die!" I growled, finishing my tooth-brushing and deliberately laying the toothbrush on the sink.

I reached for the room spray. "Muahahahahahaha!"

A blast of chlorofluorocarbons (OK, I lie! The spray is from SC Johnson, a Family Company! They don't use chlorofluorocarbons!) and Fresh Ocean Mist scent assailed the spider, which afterward clung to its web for dear life and looked very wet and dazed.

"It's still moving? Grrrrrrr! More room spray!"

The spider dangled limply for a moment, then struggled feebly.

"It's STILL moving? Impossible!"

I looked around for something else to do battle with, and my vindictive eye fell upon the large red can of hair volumiser.

"Ha! Take that, Demon Spawn!" (That is my favourite name for spiders. Appropriate, yes?)

A fine white foam began to collect on the spider and its delicate web. However, it was still moving. Ah, the tenacity! The temerity! I was almost tempted to let it live.

*evil grin*

NOT!!!!!!!!!

"Hairspray!" I exclaimed, grabbing the metallic aerosol can and pressing the button, directing a spray of extreme stickiness at the spider, which was still wallowing in the white foam. The strong freeze-style action that holds so well in my hair immobilised the struggling arachnid after a few moments.

I imitated a 'roo and bounced around in a victory dance. OK, again I lie. I grimly stalked out to the kitchen and got the broom, sweeping the spider off the wall and then plucking it off the broom bristles with a crumpled-up piece of toilet paper.

Dropping the distasteful sodden wad of paper into the loo, I pressed the handle and flushed, with a high amount of satisfaction.

"Have a nice trip, Child of Satan!" (Another favourite term.)

And then today on the doorframe I saw one of those hideously built furry greyish spiders, the kind with eyes that see in every direction and a wholly repulsive way of scooting both forward and backward with equally unbelievable rapidity.

I grinned smugly, reaching for a paper towel. I learned a long time ago how to outsmart these brutes.

Tapping the fingers of my left hand on the doorframe in front of the spider to keep its attention, I used my right to sneak up behind the spider and nab it with the paper towel. Just as I struck, it lurched forward, but too late.

That one, too, took a prolonged voyage down the loo, otherwise known as the Spiders' Tunnel of Fun or the Insects' Waterslide. Kind of like the rides my family and I used to go on at Water Country.

One major difference, though -- the participants of these little games just happen to be dead. Or, if I'm feeling particularly sadistic, almost dead. It's great fun to toss a wildly struggling spider, wasp, or ant into the water, flush quickly, and exclaim in falsely saccharine tones, "Have a nice vacation, honey! Enjoy the water park!"

And no, before you ask, I feel absolutely no remorse. No guilt-trips whatsoever can induce me to feel pity for any of those loathsome vile creatures -- particularly the eight-legged ones. So don't even try.

Some lists for you...

Things I want to do before I die!

1. Go to Australia...for as long as possible. Until the money runs out. (Heh. What money?)
2. Own and wear a pair of Doc Martens boots. Just because.
3. Become a knowledgeable herbalist. (Clair! Can we go to that herb camp in...oh, where did you say it was? Vermont? Oh pleeeeease?)
4. Get involved in forensics somehow. Ancient, modern, it doesn't matter. (Hey, I know, I could go work with Ducky or Abby at NCIS. That would be fun!)
5. Read every book by Rafael Sabatini -- again, just because. I like some a lot more than others, but I have yet to complete my collection.

Oh! That reminds me. Before I continue with that list, I must give you another list -- a list of very good books I have read recently, after which I shall give you a list of good movies I have seen. Ready?

First on the list: the book I still haven't finished yet, a book by Sir H. Rider Haggard called The Lady of the Heavens. It's about a beautiful young lady named Rachel Dove, the daughter of missionaries to Africa. She becomes sort of like a deity to the local Zulu tribe, who call her the Inkosazana-y-Zoola, or the Lady of the Heavens. But while most young ladies would be honoured to hold her position and perhaps abuse the power that came with the job, Rachel hates it and wishes she could leave. A man named Ishmael, who lives with the Zulus, tries to court her, but her heart is set on one Richard Darrien, whom she knew as a child. I've just gotten to the part in the book where they get back together again.

Second on the list: Howl's Moving Castle, by Diana Wynne Jones. It's not what I would call high-quality literature but it's a cute story. And I must say that while I am NOT a fan of anime, I did enjoy the movie very much. We watched it in film class one night and I have to say it's the first time I lost my heart to an animated hero, LOL. However, there is one disclaimer I must issue here: I do not as a rule like books that contain magic and spells. It really seems like a cop-out to me, you know? I'm not trying to rag on Harry Potter, but I mean, why teach kids that if they say a spell they'll escape getting chewed to bits by a giant three-headed dog?? It just doesn't make sense.

Third: I have just finished The Belles of Lordsburg series by Stephen Bly. Stephen Bly is one of the very best Christian authors I know. He presents the characters' relationship to the Lord in such a way as to avoid making it overdone, pushy, and showy (like many Christian writers), but at the same time, after reading the books one is left in no doubt as to the strength of the characters' Christianity and the depth of their faith in the Lord. His use of internal monologue to indicate the characters' thoughts and silent prayers is something I've never seen any other writer do. Bly's writing is amusing, compassionate, and surprising by turns. And best of all, he is a Real Live Cowboy as well as a pastor (and, obviously, a writer). I've never read a book of his I didn't immediately love. Visit www.blybooks.com to find out more about him!

Fourth (and keep in mind that these are in no particular order): Far Traveler by Rebecca Tingle. I know it's a young adult book, but it was surprisingly good. In a nutshell, after her mother dies, a young girl named Aelfwyn cuts her hair and dons boys' clothing to become a scop (travelling entertainer, or kind of like a busker). She ends up becoming a success and falls in love with the Northumbrian king, Wilfrid. A good happy-ending story, if you like those.

Fifth: The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne. This was, typically, a little slow to begin with, but quite exciting once I got into it. A party of **cough cough MISGUIDED cough cough** Union sympathisers get stranded on an island and must make do as best they can. Though they all seem to fancy themselves huge admirers/fans of Lincoln, they are otherwise in good mental health -- good enough, anyway, to figure out how to keep themselves alive and create a very nice environment on the island. Eventually, of course, they encounter some trouble with pirate-like beings who invade their island; however, they are saved from the trouble by an unseen and very generous benefactor who has provided them with assistance whenever they are in dire straits. This benefactor turns out to be -- and as I was reading this I couldn't restrain a yelp of surprise -- none other than Captain Nemo of the Nautilus, first seen in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! I totally didn't see that coming! Though in 20,000 Leagues Captain Nemo is a heartless and selfish wretch, IMHO, here he is disillusioned but kind. Bit of a switch. Oh well.

Sixth: Kotuku by Deborah Savage. A very, very interesting look into Maori culture. I have to say that I liked it a lot, but there were a few things I definitely took issue with. It's not one I could recommend to everyone. But it was a fascinating story interwoven with finely crafted characters. Since I was confused by parts of the plot (typical for me), I won't attempt to give you a synopsis. And I have to say that the bloke on the cover of the book does not look Maori at all. But I was chuffed that I understood all of the strine in the book!! xD Yay!

Seventh: There is a Season by Gilbert Morris and Lynn Morris. It's the third book in their Cheney and Shiloh: The Inheritance series, which of course is a sequel series to their Cheney Duvall, M.D. series. This book was kind of like a historical CSI or something -- very compelling! It constantly surprises me that this father/daughter team can keep writing new books about the main characters in these two series, the majority of whom have been present since the first Cheney Duvall, M.D. book, and still have each one be completely different and -- yes, I'll use the word again -- surprising. Nicely done. I'm looking forward to reading it again, which I will probably do very soon. :)

Hmmm. I think there were a few more, but I can't remember. On to the movies. Instead of giving a detailed synopsis, I'll just briefly describe them.

1. Firewall. I said I was going to tell y'all about that one a long time ago, but I got distracted. It was really good -- a few language issues, but still good. I mean, come on, people, it's Paul Bettany! Oh yeah, and Harrison Ford, too. LOL! Also, Virginia Madsen was in this, which brings me to...

2. ...Crossfire Trail, which Ms. Madsen was in as well. IMO, you can't miss when you dramatise a Louis L'Amour book, whether in the form of audio or video. And this one was made all the more attractive by the casting of Tom Selleck, Christian Kane, Rex Linn, and...be still my heart...Mark Harmon! Heheheh. It was fun to see him as a baddie instead of a federal agent.

3. The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer. Shirley Temple, Myrna Loy, and Cary Grant. I know, I know, Cary Grant. Well, I will say this, whoever and whatever he chose to be offscreen, he was absolutely hilarious onscreen. I was laughing so hard at this one and I'm sure 1947 audiences did the same.

4. Eight Below. It was a cute movie and, I thought, quite good. It was sad, but...oh gosh, I never thought I'd have cause to use this word...heartwarming. Eugh, *shudder* that makes it sound like Chicken Soup for the Frostbitten Dogsled Driver's Soul, but really, it was better than that. I promise. And besides, it starred Moon Bloodgood and Paul Walker. ;)

5. Speaking of Paul Walker, I have one word for you...TIMELINE!!! Wow, what an awesome movie. Gerard Butler plus time travel! What a combination -- I love it! I have always sworn that if someone were to invent a time machine, I'd be the first in line to get in it. However, after seeing this movie I don't think I'd choose to go back to this time period. I wouldn't last two minutes! Crikey!

6. I have to put in a word for Into the West. If you have not seen this miniseries, get yourself to a video rental store, put the first DVD into your player, and make sure you stockpile some food and water next to you because you will not want to move until you have finished the final disc of the series. Please, I am begging you. This is history you have to see, if you want to know the real story of the American West. It's not always pretty, but it's the truth.

OK, one final thing to mention before I go. Because I was mentioning series so often in this blog, I was reminded of another series you simply have to check out of your library: The Warriors by Erin Hunter (right, Hattie/Laura?). Don't make a judgment until you have finished the first book -- then you come on back here and just try to tell me it's not a fantastic series (and go ahead and try to keep yourself from reaching for the next one, and the next one, and the next!). Yes, they are for young adults -- but they are some of the most gripping, excellently crafted books I have read in a long time. I promise you will not be disappointed with the quality of the writing. Just take my advice and go read.

Whew. I'm done now, on my honour! Gotta leave for work...

:D

WARNING: I am officially...

...grouchy.

Heh. Just to let you know.

Recently the theme of my life has been adults asking me, "So what are you up to now, dear?"

"Oh," I'll reply, "I just graduated college -- "

"Congratulations! That must be so exciting!"

"Yes, definitely. And now I'm looking for a job -- "

"AHA!! *evil chuckle and smirk* Welcome to the REAL WORLD, kiddo! Ha, ha, ha -- now you'll have to be a nine-to-fiver like the REST of us! NOW you'll see what the world is REALLY like!"

Why must people do this? Why is it necessary to make my already low spirits plummet even lower?

I am simply asking.

Oh well...*sigh*...such is life. Ain't it grand.

:D

Inconsistency

Yes, yes, I hear your snickering, SFL. This post is not about why it seems as if I can't make up my mind if I live in the Northeastern US or in Victoria, Australia. Or why it seems as if I can't make up my mind if I am single with no prospects, thank you very much, or married to a cute Aussie bloke named Danny. Or why it seems as if I can't make up my mind whether my name is Jess or Mary (or Taeli, or Sara, or Cari, or India, or any of my other online aliases). Or...

OK, I'll stop now. *smiles sweetly* I love being annoying.

No, what this post is really about is the fact that I discovered some inconsistency within my own thought patterns today, inconsistency that has nothing to do with any of the abovementioned topics.

A/N (that's Author's Note for those of you who don't read fan fiction): There's inconsistency, there's schizophrenia, and then there's fantasy. Very different things.

Anyway. I was sitting in my summer class today and we were talking about the ethics of smoking. Long story short, we somehow arrived at a discussion of Native Americans and casinos and cigarette taxes. The convo disintegrated alarmingly, in my view, from there, and if you had been there you probably could have almost seen the smoke (ha, ha, ha, a pun!!!) pouring from my ears. I bit my lip hard to keep from chiming in.

But I HAD to chime in when a bloke in front of me spoke up. "Well, they have *so* much money now, with all the casinos they run. They can afford to pay cigarette taxes. It wouldn't hurt them. They're rich."

"No, they're not!" I blurted out. "That money belongs only to a select few. Many of them have *nothing*. They are not rich!"

Rather than say any more, I shall post a link. Go explore this site. http://anelder.org/ If and when I secure a job, part of my pay will go to these people. I am very excited to think that I can make a difference in their lives!

But on to the inconsistency. The girl in front of me, who happened to be African American, said a moment later, "Giving them leeway with the cigarette tax and stuff like that is the least we can do since we stole their land."

I felt like getting up and cheering. "Exactly!" I wanted to say. I wanted to bring up the Trail of Tears, the Wounded Knee Massacre, Columbus' abuse of the Native people, the Sand Creek Massacre, any of the injustices brought upon the Native American people.

But just then a thought rocketed through my tiny little brain. Why is it, my conscience asked me, that you think the Native Americans deserve reparation for past injustices and injuries...but the descendants of African Americans who suffered through slavery do not warrant that same reparation?

I have no answer, really. I guess I need to make up my mind one way or the other. Do both groups deserve reparation, apologies, and preferential treatment -- or do neither of the groups deserve it? Let's drop the issue of deserving; no one deserves anything good. All good things are blessings from Christ.

But *should* either of the groups receive anything from society? Should reparation be given when all these terrible things happened in the past? There is no denying that the past has impacted the present and, probably, the future. If the effects of the past are still in play, then why should we scoff and say, "Ah, get over it; that happened 150 years ago. It doesn't affect anybody anymore. We should just forget what happened and all try our best to get along."

Imagine a husband and wife getting into a fight over something. They each say things that hurt the other deeply. After an uneasy truce, they go back to "regular" life. Should that happen without either of them admitting to fault, asking for forgiveness, and doing their best to make things right?

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," I've heard people say. Bunk. Love means being the first to say you're sorry.

But what do y'all think? Should it be over and done with, or should something happen to repair the damage that's undeniably been done?

Yeah, yeah, I realise I'm always way behind, always just dabbling in issues that the rest of the world has already discussed and pretended to settle. One of my professors accused me of reinventing the wheel; true, alas.

I mean, here I was an English major and I had gone to college without ever having read any of the "classics!" Well, except for The Scarlet Letter and Cat in the Rain. And I did read a lot of Poe, but I didn't really absorb it, with the exception of The Gold-Bug. That one was cool.

I was really selective in my reading. Aside from schoolwork, I read only what interested me before I went to college. Books by George Barr McCutcheon, Anthony Hope, Rafael Sabatini, Jules Verne, and Sir H. Rider Haggard dominated my bookshelf. Oh, and can't forget Swiss Family Robinson by Johan(n) Wyss. I read that thing over and over again. Now *that* is a classic if there ever was one!

SFR is responsible for the fact that I know some people used to call rubber "caoutchouc." And that cochineal yields a lovely red dye. And that rat skins may be used to make felt. And that sharks' skin, polished, makes wonderful isinglass. And that one may make a very effective and protective dog collar from wildcat skin and nails (not that I would EVER do that!). And that wine and birdlime can effectively despatch a troupe of marauding monkeys. And that one can subdue an onager by biting through its ear (not that I would ever do THAT either!!). And that ostriches can be ridden if one but makes an appropriate bridle with open-and-shut blinders made from the joints of a beached whale. And that portable soup may be easily mistaken for glue. And that karatas fibers may be used to make candle wicks (and that cotton fibers will not do very well; "The mother had prepared some cotton wicks...which she declared would beat mine all hollow. [But they] emitted such a feeble light as to be nearly useless. At length even the mother had to admit that they would never do." Or something like that. I'm quoting from memory, which means it's not quite right). And that the air inside caves, even crystal caves, may be very poisonous; one should set off rockets to purify the air. And that clay may be found in marshy areas, which *could* possibly be so dangerous that one might have to grab onto one's dog's tail to be pulled from the marsh.

"Well, mother," says one of the boys (Jack, I think),"I can only tell you that I should not in all my days have found the clay if I had not slipped and fallen in it."

His mother replies, "This morning one would have thought your clay the result of a very arduous search indeed!"

Ha, ha. I loved that part. But again, I'm quoting from memory, so it's far from perfect. But you get the idea.

Hmm. I need to go read that again.

...

Wow...I *really* got off topic, didn't I? How do I *do* that? My mind wanders so easily these days, I tell you. *clears throat* Well, I'm signing off before I ramble any more.

*scowls at readers, who are clapping and cheering enthusiastically because the rambling is finally coming to an end*

Ha ha!

Spotted on a sign in our town, indicating festivities for Memorial Day:

ORGAN RECTALS

I think it's missing something, ay.

Just had to share.