Oh, hey there!

I keep meaning to blog and find myself making up excuses about not having anything interesting to write about. Then again, do I usually? And do I let that stop me?

Heck no, techno.

So here I am, and here is the story of  George and Neil. This is a true story, perhaps embellished a smidge for dramatic purposes. In the interest of honesty and all that jazz I'll be sure to let you know when I'm lying bedazzling.

Neil is my Toyota Corolla S. I like to say that the S is for "sexy," but it's probably for "sport" or "super" or something. Neil was named after one of my favorite playwrights whose work always makes me giggle. Neil is a good car. Neil houses me during my lunch at work when I call up the hubbs to chat. Because of our opposite schedules, lunch is sometimes the only time we can chat.

Well, today I was gabbing with hubbs about all sorts of gooey lovey dovey stuff and waxing poetic (lie, I'm not poetic) when I noticed something white moving on my left mirror. I tilted my head to examine the movement further. It was a huge, giant, scary spider with fangs (lie, not very huge, not nearly giant, and no visible fangs)! I mentioned the spider to hubbs and he dismissed it, not knowing the inherent danger I was in (lie, probably some sort of garden spider). As the spider twiddled his legs creepily, I decided to take action and rolled up my window as quickly as I could. Which is pretty much the only speed it rolls up because of the electronics. As the temperature in my car rose higher, I contemplated ways to catch and kill the beast, because on an 80 degree day, a the thought of a breeze is so tantalizing that one might become brave. Anyhow, the white spider with the long legs hid inside my mirror. Hubbs and I finished our conversation and I launched open my car door, rocketed out, and then pushed it shut again with my foot (lie? perhaps slight exaggeration since I was quick, but not that quick). Crisis averted.

Or so I thought.

Apparently Neil and the spider became fast friends and in the remaining hours of my day they decided to hang out more. I got back in my car at 5pm, shut the door, and noticed the spider. Again. Peeking his ugly little head/body out, whispering my name (lie, no whispering unless it was really quiet and I didn't hear it). So I decided to speed through the parking lot in hopes of tossing him to his death. When that didn't work I decided that I had to name my foe. I settled on George because it sounded squashable.

George hung on through the ride to get Costco gas and it was all I could do to act normal in front of the 5 million (lie, maybe twenty) people in line for gas. Again, I did the door slamming routine but to no avail. In fact, as I drove away, George climbed his invisible thread of death (not a lie, it is death for bugs) to my window. I started to panic, but managed to maintain safe driving maneuvers. George hid, cowering (lie? do spiders cower?), while I was on the freeway, but showed his vengeful face once I parked at my home. I chose a spot far from bushes in order to let George know I didn't want him to feel comfy. Then came the drama of The Car Exit.

I'm not proud of this. But the truth must be told.

I climbed over my front seats and middle thingy in a skirts and heels in order to escape out the passenger side of Neil. I just couldn't face George and I didn't see any neighbors so I acted like a ten year old girl. I can only hope that he gets the hint and leaves Neil and I alone. No room for a third passenger with us! Well, actually, we can fit five total, but no spiders allowed usually.

And that is my story. May it please be on the record that not once did I scream.

Happy Monday.

PS I get to see hubbs soon! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!