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Jett Superior laid this on you on || September 23, 2004 || 10:13 am

It’s Kristin again. You may remember me from my initial guest post here on 09/16. If not, that’s okay, too.

Let’s do this.

I shall regale you with the tale of my very first date! I was in 7th grade at the time, and living in Yuma, AZ. Yuma is about 10 minutes from Mexico, and 20 minutes from California. As southwest as you could possibly get without being made of turquoise and silver. This date was a movie date, with a boy named Scott, who was in my Spanish class. Although I forget now what movie we attended, Scott spent the whole time alternately playing some portable, electronic “video” game, and throwing Haribo gummi bears at the people in front of us. No hand-holding, no sneaky Pete yawn-into-arm-around-shoulder move. Scott wasn’t what you would call suave. Granted, I didn’t exactly pine for his affections after he started in with the gelatinous projectiles, but still.

The only other “date” I had in junior high school was to a (ohmygod!) high shool football game, while I was in 8th grade. During 7th, I was in the same English class as a few 8th graders, and one was a boy, Andy, that I “like” liked, and he lived in my neighborhood. He had the most endearing lisp, and was very tall. I used to bike past his house during that summer, before he started high school, and I started 8th grade, in the hopes he would be home and outside. I didn’t really have a contingency plan for the possibility that I actually had to talk to him, but somehow it worked out that he invited me to go to one of his high school’s football game. I was so excited. I was going. On a date. With a 15-year-old 9th grader! Hello, whosa lady now? He left me an envelope in my mailbox, with a ticket inside and a note saying to root for his school, namely The Criminals. I arrived at the game, and he was there with his girlfriend. Thanks for the ticket, Andy, but you SUCK! Come to think of it, we actually went to a movie together later on, or perhaps prior to the game incident. He had his learner’s permit (got held back in elementary school), so he drove, with his mom in the car, and me in the back seat. We saw “Tremors”. And that’s all there really is to tell.

My junior high dateboys were utterly lacking in gumption.

It occurs to me I went on more 1-on-1 dates during junior high, than I have in the past two years. HAHAHAHAHA!

In more recent news, I have had several spider encounters over the past few weeks. One resulted in screaming, one resulted in smashing, one resulted in choosing a name. (Note: all spider measurements are legs-inclusive)

Screamer: I worked at a catering job, and we were getting tables out of a storage shed. As I lifted one end of the table, I saw, on the table right near my hand, a brown spider, approximately 3″ in diameter. I let go, and screamed for my friend to put down the table, there was a huge spider, then I ran out of the shed and screamed again, “oooheeeeemeeeeeeee!” while doing the shake-the-water-off gesture with my hands. My friend, still holding the table, got it angled so she could see the spider. Upon catching a glimpse, she immediately dropped the table *BLAM*, and launched out of the shed sideways, in sort of a loose cannonball position.

Smasher: While downstairs in my basement, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a black spider, maybe the size of a half-dollar. When I was hovering over him (at a safe distance), he curled up into a ball. I know a cunning motherfucker when I see a cunning motherfucker, so I went and retrieved an old copy of Martha Stewart Living, rolled it up, and *THWAP*, peace out.

Namer: I named the spider that lives in my car. He’s called Marty. He’s quarter-sized, golden-colored, and I’ve seen him on 3 separate occasions. This is not normally the type of spider I would kill, but I don’t want him to GET ME while I’m driving, or just be generally distracting, causing me to smash my car all to hell. I have tried to kill him with the lit end of my cigarette and attempted scooting him out the driver’s side window. He always gets away. Now, when I see him flitting around, I just flick my ash out the window, and continue talking on my cell phone.

Another spider-related sidenote: I figured out just the other day that spiders are part of Halloween decorations not ONLY because they’re spooky, but also because during the Fall, which is also a part of the general Halloween decoration motif, pumkins, etc., spiders come out in full force to spin webs and get up all in your face. *forehead slap* Duh.

Yay Fall, you started yesterday! *AIRHORN* Gourds!

5 worked it out »

  1. Coelecanth 9.23.2004

    My first junior high date ended with her saying “I guess anticipation is the best part.” I’m not sure I’ve ever really recovered from that.

    I once chased a Wolf spider around my mother’s house with an oar. Yup, no whimpy-assed magazine for me, 10 feet of solid oak is the way to go.

     
  2. Beth 9.23.2004

    I never got the Halloween/spider connection either. Duh.

     
  3. Kat 9.27.2004

    Spiders are my mortal enemies. I hate them and want them far away. I cannot kill them myself because they make a sound, kind of a crunchy squish. And they curl up. Ugh. I cannot think about it anymore.

     
  4. red clay 9.27.2004

    you’re doing good, honey.

     
  5. Kathleen 9.28.2004

    I was innocently standing in front of my mirror yesterday morning putting on my make-up when I felt something on my shoulder. I looked up and saw the ugliest bloody spider ever crawling around my neck. I didn’t scream or do the shake-water-from-the hands-gesture, but I was well and truly spooked. Somehow I got it onto the floor and promptly stepped on it. I’m so glad I had put my shoes on before this. I still get the shivers thinking about it. Damn thing apparently forgot our little agreement. All spiders that stay out of reach are safe to live with me. Landing on me is a good way to get your spidery little self killed.

     

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