Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Arachnophobia!
Not two years ago, if I found a spider in the bathroom I’d scream like a banshee. Just ask my wife.
“Karen! A spider!”
“So?”
“Do something, anything!”
Yes, those were the days. A time of peace and tranquility, when I didn’t share my bedroom with forty tarantulas. Yeah, you heard me.
It wasn’t always this way. As a kid, I used to catch flies and throw them into spider webs. And before you ask, no, I didn’t wet the bed, set fires, or torture small animals (except by feeding flies to spiders, of course).
I’m not sure when spiders began creeping me out, or why. I do know that I got over it fairly quickly. Nothing like constant exposure to take you past your fears.
Once Karen started collecting, oh boy did she start collecting. She says it’s a chick thing.
Think about it. Tarantulas could be feminist mascots. The females are bigger, faster, smarter, and longer-lived than males. They control the sexual encounter, not the boys. For every time a male eats a female, it goes the other way 1000 times. Nor does the female always eat the male after sex. If she has a good time, she’s free to keep him around for future flings.
But back to the main focus of this blog: me. I mean, arachnophobia. I still won’t let the tarantulas crawl on me, but I help Karen out from time to time. Lifting cages, for example — I’m good at that. And pointing things out. “Oooh, Karen, look at the fat ass on that one.”
For the arachnophobes in my audience, I’m going to give you a gradual introduction to spiders. Desensitization therapy: that’s the name of the game. We’ll begin with the new image for Karen’s blog (over there on the right somewhere). Isn’t she cute? And so yummy, too. Is there anything better than candy corn fangs?
D.
I’ll admit that – thanks to you – I don’t freak as loudly as I used to when confronted by a spider, and I can now cope with pictures* – but when a spider gets too close it becomes DEAD very quickly.
(* small pictures please, Doug ;o))
What? Debi – I thought my out-of-focus shot of the cutie living under my deck would have made you a lover of spiders for sure.
Spiders bad. Very bad. If I find one I scream like a girl and beg my husband to get rid of it. I have good reason to be scared. I’ve had them on me, in my bed etc. It’s no good.
Forty. Tarantulas.
Right, I’m not especially arachnophobic, but…
Forty.
You should see the size of my goosebumps right now. Seriously.
At least those tarantulas are sorta fluffy. Our spiders are Just. Ugly. And end up in the vacuum cleaner.
BTW Your sidebar with the edible spider pic has vanished to the bottom. I think you’ll have to make the pic of Debi smaller, it screws with the settings (it was the reason I picked a different template, the first one didn’t like my pics).
Well, it’s a very, very thoughtful thing to do, and I thank you. Don’t be surprised, though, when it never works. At least not on me.
I love candy corn.