AaaaaAaaaaRrrrrGgggghhhh!!!!!

Anyone who reads this blog on a fairly regular basis will know that I've been harping on about how great the weather is at the moment.

I'm so over that.

You know why? Because when the weather is nice I have to have all the windows open day and night, and when the windows are open insects, specifically spiders, see it as an open invitation to invade my personal space.

And I HATE spiders.

Right now, gentle reader, I am typing to you from the safety of my bedroom ... because there is a big, bloody, bastard of a spider in the living room.

And no, that's not a picture of it. If the spider in the living room looked like that I wouldn't be bothered at all, I might tell it to see a dentist and give it some style tips (Horizontal stripes? So unflattering on rounder shapes! And green and orange? Please! That's so 80's!) but it wouldn't scare me. The spider in the living room IS scary.

And please don't laugh and say "A little spider won't hurt you!" (people who say that are the only thing I hate more than spiders) I KNOW it won't hurt me, that's not the issue, the issue is that I have a phobia about spiders. And yes I KNOW it's irrational, but that's phobia's "thing". Right now, my phobia is nodding it's head and agreeing with me, saying, "Yup! I'm all about the irrational, baby".

And you haven't seen the spider in question.

It's BIG!

Well OK, not big compared to some; I have friends and relations in Australia who regularly get a kick out of sending me e-mails with titles like "Cute baby pics" and "Dogs do the funniest things!" ... except that when I open them I'm confronted with a picture of a goat sized spider chewing on a live chicken. At which point I scream, swear long and loud, delete the poxy e-mail and then fire off an angry reply to the bastard who sent it to me, severing all ties of blood or friendship forthwith. My cousin got married 2 years ago and I still haven't seen the wedding photos for precisely that reason. (You don't fool me with your "Gorgeous Wedding Pics!" title, missus!)

So I admit, compared to it's freakishly humongous Aussie cousins, the spider in the living room perhaps isn't much to write home about.

But it's big enough to freak me out.

Big enough for me to be able to see the vindictive glint in its eyes and the hairs on its legs ... it's probably in there right now, using my GHD straighteners, singing a chorus of "I Feel Pretty" to itself.

The next question is ... how to get rid of it?

I tried to get my mum to come round and get rid of it for me, but she refused!

(Tsk! 9.30pm isn't THAT late!)

I suggested that she would if she REALLY loved me, which she countered with the fact that she hasn't really loved me since 1996 when I stayed out all night, without permission, or telling her where I was, and since when she has had to regularly dye her hair.

Hmmm. There's some things you can't argue with.

So then I tried my best friend. I tried to lure her round with the promise of a chick-flick and a semi-decent bottle of wine, I was even cute enough not to mention my real motive. But not only did she refuse:

Friend: (suspiciously) What are you up to?

Me: (Adopting my most angelic, nun-like voice) What? I don't know what you mean! It would just be lovely to see you!

Friend: I saw you at lunchtime

Me: Well, I miss you already! I thought we could spend some quality time together!

Friend: You said at lunchtime that you were sick of the sight of me and that you hoped I fell down a hole (now in my defence, she was nagging me about the dating thing again at the time, she wants me to double date with her and her husband and some guy he works with. Bleh!)

Me: (pause, while I consider my options) And I feel just awful about it! Come round and let me make it up to you (clearly going for the suck-up option)

Friend: Bullsh*t! Tell me what you're up to and I'll think about it

Me: (all sulky 'n sh*t) Oh, fine! There's a big effin' spider in my front room and I want it removed before "Pushing Daisies" starts

Friend: (very long, incredulous pause) I don't believe you!

Me: What? You know I don't like spiders! And it's the last ever episode of Daisies!!!!

Friend: Er ... newsflash! Neither do I!

Me: Since when?

Friend: Since forever!!!!

Me: Send Alan over

Friend: Get your own man! Now if you went on that date ...

Me: (feigning sudden static on the line and a dodgy Chinese accent) Oh, sorry ... what's that? ... I can barely hear you ... aw, I better go, bye! Love you!

So back to the drawing board.

And "Pushing Daisies" is on in 20 minutes! Arghh!


Wait a minute! ... I have a cat! Cat's eat spiders. Right?

OK ... wait right here a minute.


(10 minutes pass)


FFS!

I'm back. And the spider is still in the living room. And I hate my cat.

I finally found her, she was sleeping under the bed. OK, she wasn't too happy to be woken up and dragged out and then pushed into the living room. When I peeped in a minute later she was just sitting in the middle of the floor, licking her bum. She tried to make a dash for the door when I opened it but I caught her and set her firmly back in the room.

Me: Get the spider! Lily, get the spider!

Cat: (look that said "You muppet!")

Me: Get it, Lily! Mmmm, nice tasty spider for Lillums!

Cat: (look that said "Lillums? God, how I despise you, you feeble minded dimwit!")

She didn't even seem to have seen the spider on the ceiling, so I moved nearer to it, pointing gingerly up at it to show the cat it's location (and yes, I know, how was the cat supposed to get the spider when it was on the ceiling, blah, blah ... my plan was to get the cat interested, knock the spider down with a stick and then let the cat catch it and eat it. Duh!)

Me: Look, Lily! Big, fat spider! Yummm!

The cat finally looked up, saw the spider, looked at me,

Cat: (look that said "What did your last slave die of? Exhaustion? Kill it yourself. I have a bowl of gently broiled Coley in the kitchen, your spider doesn't tempt me, foolish human")

At this point I lost it.

I ranted at the cat. I told it I'd had enough of it's superior, snooty behaviour, I was tired of it's constant mockery, not to mention it's total lack of contribution to the household! All I wanted it to do was kill a goddamned spider, but noooooo ... it wouldn't even do that! Effin' freeloading, fuzzy-butted, bitch-cat!

Cat: (look that said "Hahahahahaha")

I decided enough was enough. That spider was going down, my friends.

Right down the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner.

Except that by time I got it out of the cupboard, plugged it in, found the tubey, attachment thingy ... the spider was gone!

You know what the only thing more terrifying than having a big, eff-off spider in your living room is? It's having a big, eff-off spider in your living room and having absolutely zero clue where it actually is.

Yes. I got the hell out of there.

(I'm still in a cold sweat at the thought of it)

I may never use my living room again.

I might never feed the poxy, ingrate of a cat again.

I'm now having to watch the last ever episode of Daisies on the crappy little bedroom TV instead of the lovely, big widescreen in the living room.

And I've missed the first 20 minutes of it.

Sometimes life, spiders and cats are a bitch!