There was a bug. Now, there is a bloodstain.

I am not particularly squeamish. If i find a spider in my house, i ignore it. When i see silverfish scurrying across my bathroom floor, i let them get on with their day. A moth just flew in my window right now, and i'm chill with that too.

But last night...I met the bug to end all of the bugs. And it was slightly less than chill.

So. Imagine. I have just got off work and walked in the door. It is nearing 1am. I put on an episode of The Girls Next Door and go to the kitchen to pour a glass of Yellow Jersey sauvignon blanc (which by the way, is the best wine evar). All is well, life is good, etc. As I am pouring, I catch a glimpse of something dark scuttling across the kitchen floor. My first reaction is to second guess--no, that can't possibly be anything alive coming for my bare fee..eeeeeet!!!

But it was. It was maybe 3 inches long. 1/2 inch wide. Dark brown. With a BILLION long spindly legs. Like imagine a hot dog spontaneously grows about 30 long skinny legs. That's what this thing looked like. I have never seen anything like it in my life. Its grossness rivaled any bug that my Creepy Crawlers machine ever made.

While i'm busy squealing, it scuttles for cover under the stove. I run to the computer (like a lame-ass) and try to find someone online that will give me moral support. A few minutes of panicked typing later, i look over my shoulder and realize, horrified, that it has somehow migrated to my living room wall. (Considering my living room and kitchen are basically the same thing, this was pretty much inevitable).

I start to shake. And breathe a little too loud. I scurry to the bookshelf and pick up my boyfriend's first year econ textbook. I hold it out in front of me with two hands, trying to find courage for the squish. I take a step. The bug doesn't move. I take another step. It still doesn't move. I shut my eyes tight, make a loud, girly 'ehnnnnnnnnnn' sound and literally RUN towards it.

squuiiiishhhhh.

Bug blood is dripping down the textbook. Left behind on the wall is an exactly imprint of the creepy crawly. But even grosser. All its legs bent in different directions.

Then it starts. I whimper. I flail. I squeal. I stomp my feet. I am having a genuine ANTM cycle 3 Eva-posing-with-tarantula- FREAK OUT. I always thought those girls were overreacting. But now...I understand.

I did manage to regain composure. I drank the wine, which helped. And the carcass is now in the bottom of my garbage can wrapped up in paper towel. But! I have not yet cleaned up the blood from the wall, or the textbook.

I need to keep my guard up. It might have babies.


EDIT: The bug was a house centipede

Rant: Books and Jobs.

Ladies and Gentlemen! Drumroooolllll Please! *brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt*

Tomorrow, I have an interview with Chapters.
This *should* be good news for a English major with way too much free time.
Let's ask Pre-Second Year Me what she thinks about this:

Us: Hey Pre-Second Year Me, what would you say if i told you you had an interview at Chapters tomorrow?
Pre-SY Me: OMG *SQUEEEE* I AM SO IN LOVE WITH LITERATURE IT IS ALMOST PAINFUL!!!!1!!1!!!

Right. So. Great!

But actually, I lied. Because it is really Post-Second Year Me who will be interviewed by the Chapters. And this is how she currently feels about literature.....

*crickets*

I feel like crickets about literature.

The realization came as soon as finals exams finished. I had a whole bookcase full of options...but the only things i wanted to read were webcomics and lolcats. Last summer break i immediately regimented a book-a-week diet, but this summer I felt exhausted just thinking about reading.

THEN, when i FINALLY caved and started re-reading the Harry Potter series as a refresher for DH, I found myself shuddering at Jo's sentence structure.

Let's be honest, now. I got a 70 in Expository Writing. I split my infinitives on a regular basis. And I'm totally chill with that. So what the eff?

So, if you're keeping track, my tuition money has:

1. dampened my passion for literature in general
2. phased my unconditional love of Harry Potter
AND
3. rewarded me with mediocre writing skills

Also:

I have decided the only way to get good marks in English is to a) be a total kiss ass, b) be lucky *mumbles* or, c) care about the material and work really hard *mumble grumbulus*

And:

Don't even get me STARTED on the PAINFULNESS of the job hunt process. Should I play the smart, confident angle? The dumb, cute girl angle? Or the relatively mediocre and non-threatening angle? Do they want a yes-man doormaticus, or an inventive individualus?

It is...all too much.

Wish me luck?

Dear Internets,

It's been awhile. We haven't spoken since melo. The year was 2003. I was an aspiring pin up girl with a septum ring. You were pretty much the same except i don't think facebook existed yet. That would have been a good spot for parallelism, but i'm lazy. Two years of university english allows me to recognize my grammar mistakes, but it doesn't necessarily motivate me to write better.

So, yeah, basically-- i'm back. Now, with less angst and more biting wit. I mean, sarcasm. I probably won't contribute anything of value to your tubes. Buffy fanfic deserves your space more than i do. Mostly i thought i'd say hi because this guy i happen to know think i need a hobby. And blogging is a good hobby because you can do it eating chips and wearing nothing. that time i made a parallel.