Thursday, July 21, 2005

If you're hoppy and you know it...

Greetings, Tracey's loyal readers. I am usually among you, but today I address you. You may have seen my name (and noticed it, for it is unusual) in some of her posts and in many of her comments. I'm Sally-Anne, a former coworker of Tracey's and erstwhile Monday matinee companion.

While I always appreciate Tracey's insights and random musings, one thing in particular she said once struck me today. I paraphrase, but she said that sometimes the harder life gets -- the more "heavy" things she has to deal with -- the lighter/more frivolous her posts get. Currently I am enduring serious family illnesses, a wreck of a love life, financial woes and a huge unstudied-for exam coming up in the next week that is going to kick my tooshie, so I have chosen as my guest-post topic: bugs.

I am a pretty strong, independent person, but I CANNOT ABIDE INSECTS and turn into a squealing ninny around them. When I took my cat, Mr. Kitty (whom Tracey had the unfortunate experience of meeting only once when she [Mr. Kitty -- yes, she is a female] was at her worst), into my home, I did so with the strict caveat that she would be responsible for bug-killing. Or at least, bug-maiming such that I could finish the job without fear said bug would jump or crawl all over me. I know bugs are God's creatures, and it is perhaps ironic that I am so extreme an animal lover that I'm a vegetarian/near-vegan and non-leather-purchaser yet I slaughter insects by any means necessary, but there you have it.

This time of year where I live, I am plagued (admitted hyperbole -- I see maybe two or three a week) by what I call "hoppy bugs." I guess they're some sort of grasshopper, but I had never seen these before until moving to this area a little over a year ago. Mr. Kitty likes to bop them when they're moving around, but if they stand still, as they tend to do when they know that either I or Mr. Kitty is hovering, Mr. Kitty loses interest. One of these hoppy bugs was the reason I was late to work this morning. I threw heavy books at it but missed, and it hopped around but remained alive and in my way such that I could not get ready and out the door in an expedient manner. Mr. Kitty, growing ever more lax about her ONE JOB AROUND THE HOUSE, just sat.

A rather disappointing coda to this story is that this morning's hoppy bug hopped somewhere I couldn't see him, so he is still around. If I go home tonight to find him belly-up, Mr. Kitty will get a treat. More likely, I'll just encounter him again sometime soon and go through the whole squealing/object-throwing-and-missing routine anew.

Whew! Sorry I went on so long in my guest-blogging debut, but I feel better having shared this admittedly trivial yet personally haunting experience.



Sarah said...

Squealing ninny... hahaha, that pretty much describes me in the presence of bugs too. My biggest bug fear? Flying roaches. AAACCCKKKKKKkkkk!

Anonymous said...

Perish the thought! I've heard of such hideous beings but have never encountered them, nor do I ever desire to. I did, however, have not one but TWO softball-sized spiders in my BEDROOM this spring. Unacceptable.


tracey said...

Ah, the flying roaches. HATE them!

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