This morning, I left for work, and I was looking snappy. I may or may not have forced Ned and some other friends to watch The Way We Were last night, and Barbra Streisand's red-and-black outfit inspired me.
So today I slapped on my black-and-white peplum top that kind of looks like I'm wearing a furnace filter with its hexagonal design but I got it at Anthropologie so shut up, and my usual black-and-fur pants, and some fancy spectator pumps. With red earrings. I kind of can't get enough of myself. In fact, above is a photo of me, not B Streisand.
I was leaving my house, with my pumps and my fur and my purse and the requisite coffee because I am an addict, and as I came down my porch steps, I felt a little…flimy. Yes, that was it. Filmy. Why–
"ACCCCCCCCKKKKKK!" I said, as I noted I was covered in spiderweb, and not just a little. I kind of looked like Sade in her No Ordinary Love video, where she's running around in a long wedding veil. Except for the part where I lacked dignity and loveliness because
"AAACCKKKK! ACK ACCCCCKKKK!" I added, splaying my arms this way and that, coffee flying, red earrings everywhere, my purse's guts all over the ground. Because at this point I SAW the spider on me, I saw it, and it was big. And it was RED. Which went great with my outfit but that's beside the point.
"EEEEEKKKK!" I shrieked, and I desperately wanted that giant red spider off me, but of course was too afraid to touch it. I figured it was one of those red black widows we've heard so much about, or maybe a red brown recluse. A maroon recluse.
"ACCCKKK!" I said, for a change, and got my purse off the ground and kind of…shoved the spider off me. I think. Which is the worst thing ever, because
I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT WENT.
I searched all over myself, hither and yon, and looked under my purse, and shook my fine spectators, and finally made my way to my car, slapping at myself constantly because I was having Vietnam flashbacks.
As I unlocked my car door and slapped myself a few more times just in case, I noticed the door open across the street, at the dead lady's house. Some young guy finally bought her home, and I've been wanting to go introduce myself, and there was his front door open, with some small dog watching me cynically behind the screen door.
Naturally I phoned Ned immediately, at work, and one wonders at this point how many screamy phone calls I have made to Ned while he sits at his desk like a grownup. He kept having to ask me to repeat myself, because I keep screeching the details, and finally I said, "And what's awful is I think my new neighbor saw me, the young guy."
Ned paused for a minute. "If that guy just saw you, his whole day has gotten good. He's over there thinking, 'Wow. It won't be so bad, living across from her. This won't be bad at all.'"
I'm going to assume that was a compliment.
I have to go slap myself some more.