Wednesday, September 07, 2005


Last night I turned into one of THOSE girls. You know, the ones who see a bug or a mouse and start shrieking and woe-is-me-ing while standing on a chair. The only things that have ever caused me to do that in the past are bees (HELLO they can sting you) and bats (because of several traumatic events, one of which no one else believes ever happened).

I brought some stuff in from my outdoor storage unit yesterday because there's some stuff I want to put on eBay, and even more stuff I just want to throw away or take to Goodwill. I'm assuming IT got in when I brought in all those boxes because I don't know where else IT came from.

IT was a giant, jumping . . . cricket. OK! I know! A cricket isn't scary! Aren't they like good luck or something? I don't know what it was about this cricket, though, but I could tell it was EVIL. Maybe it was the way it hopped straight at me, maybe it was the fact that it was hiding under a stuffed animal, or maybe it was because The Cat immediately went after it because she sensed the evil as well.

Whatever it was, it had me actually COWERING on the sofa. I mean I was standing up with my back as close to the wall as it would go, hands covering my mouth like I was Scarlett O'Hara about to pass out (unfortunately, no Rhett would have been around to catch me and I'd probably have passed out on the cricket and have been scarred for life). The Cat, on the other hand, was busy swatting at IT with her paws. Every now and then she'd look at me like "what is wrong with you?" until I shrieked, "PHOEBE STOP LOOKING AT ME AND KILL THAT THING," and then she'd go back to stalking IT.

I watched Phoebe chase this thing around the apartment for about 15 minutes. If she moved rooms I'd carefully follow her and jump on the highest point of furniture in the room. Finally, when it stopped moving and what I think was one of its legs was lying on the floor in the hallway, I assumed IT was dead. But Phoebe wasn't done with it. To my ABSOLUTE HORROR she started picking IT up with her mouth and THROWING IT AROUND. She'd fling it up in the air and then jump after it and since she was standing in my bedroom doorway, I was afraid to leave the room in case she threw IT at me and IT TOUCHED ME.

When pieces of it started flying about, though, I'd had enough. I was starting to get nauseous and I didn't feel like cleaning vomit off of the carpet as well as cricket guts. I got a piece of paper and tried to scoop the remains onto it when IT came back to life and HOPPED STRAIGHT AT ME. I, again, screamed and ran away, then realized I was acting like a complete fucktard, picked up my piece of paper, scooped IT up, ran to the kitchen and threw IT into the sink and washed IT down the garbage disposal. Because what is a garbage disposal for if not for Evil Cricket Exorcisms?

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