This was an article that was in our local Sunday paper and I was reading it and laughing my butt off...I thought I'd share it with everyone!Everything is bigger in Texas ... even the spiders
August 25, 2007 - Posted at 12:00 a.m.
Aprill Brandon: Life Happens
Oh South Texas, you never cease to amaze me. You've introduced this Yankee girl to so many wonderful things, such as tamales, cowboys dancing to hip-hop and a soul-crushing heat and humidity combination.But most importantly, you have introduced me to the fact that there comes a time in the life of a 20-something where you need to grow up and face your fears. See, I don't know if you've noticed this or not, South Texas, but your bugs are approximately the size of Delaware. And unfortunately, I happen to be the world's biggest arachnophobe ever. This combination, as I'm sure you've guessed, is extremely unhealthy, causing me to instantly age five years every time anything remotely feeling like a cobweb touches me.
Now, in the past, I have managed to get over my other phobias, such as Hiltoncinemaphobia (fear of Paris Hilton movies) and fifteenthofeverymonthphobia (fear of opening my credit card bill), rather easily. I simply ignored both of them. But this one is a bit trickier.
Ever since I was little, I've had a fear of spiders. And when I say fear, I mean sprinting to the next town over every time I encounter a daddy-long-leg.
Some might call this fear irrational, but to that I say, who will have the last laugh when spiders finally do all band together to take over the world? Me, who has a bunker and three years worth of food prepared, or you, who thinks spiders are harmless?
Irrational indeed.
They say that the roots of most phobias can be traced back to a traumatic experience in childhood. If that's the case, then I place the blame of my phobia squarely on the shoulders of my older cousin Yolanda, who told me at the age of 4 that spiders crawled into my mouth at night and laid eggs, which would soon spurt forth thousands of baby spiders that would leave via my ears. I still have not forgiven her.
On top of that, I no longer live in a region where spiders are of an acceptable size. I live in the south, where mutated, giant, freak spiders abound. Now trust me when I say I am not exaggerating, but I've seen spiders down here approximately the size of a basketball. Seriously, I once saw one eating a cocker spaniel. Down here, the spiders are so big that if you try to kill it with a shoe, it will wrestle that shoe away from you and hit you in the head with it (true story, it happened to my co-worker's cousin's babysitter's aunt).
Back when I lived in Ohio, I was beginning to come to terms with my phobia. I had even developed a way to kill them without coming into their "attack zone." When I saw a spider, I busted out my bottle of Febreze, which has a spray range of at least three feet, and I would keep spraying the sucker until he drowned. But down in the south, if you try those kinds of shenanigans, all you get is a fresh-smelling and extremely angry giant arachnid.
And so the time has come for me to just suck it up and get over my fear. From what I've heard, the best way to get do that is to expose yourself to the object you fear as much as possible. Of course, that is a bunch of hooey that I will never, ever do. That's just what the spiders want me to do so they can eat my face off. But I think I have come up with a compromise.
I am completely willing to leave the great outdoors to the spiders. They can have it. And should I go outside, I will avoid them at all costs (like running away screaming and arms flailing like a little girl when I see one). In return, the spiders have to stop coming inside. That's my territory. No more hiding out in the shower and only appearing once I have soap in my eye. No more hanging out on the ceiling, backed into a corner where even a broom can't smash them. And absolutely no more of that hiding behind the trashcan and dashing out when I least expect it, causing me to have a mild heart attack.
See, I think a solution like that, using reason with these creatures, is much more rational than actually coming to terms with my fear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the store and stock up my non-perishable food items for my bunker.
Aprill Brandon is a reporter for the Advocate. Contact her at 361-580-6514 or abrandon@vicad.com, or comment on this story
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Michaels room before Mamma overhauled it!! What a Mess!!
Michaels room all cleaned, sorted and picked up!!
