June 07, 2003 :: 12:39 a.m.
episode #931, in which I defeat Flyzilla
For the last few weeks, a fly has been terrorizing my room. It was a big fly. A really, really big fly. Like Flyzilla Attacks Tokyo big. It scared me quite a lot, because it was a) an insect, and b) prone to dive-bombing my head at random intervals, possibly in hopes of making me jump out of my chair and run away like a woman. It worked. And that fact that I actually am a woman makes it no less humiliating. I hate bugs, with the flying and the buzzing and the trying to tunnel into my ears and lay their wriggling larvae. And this thing wouldn't leave, or stay still long enough for me to end its annoying little life. I thought about sleeping downstairs on the couch several times, just to avoid being in the same room with it. As it was, I slept with the covers pulled over my head so that it couldn't do its thing. See above re: larvae.
Well, tonight I triumphed. It landed on my monitor, which immediately sent me into a panicked state of hopping from foot to foot and searching for something to shoo it away with. My weapon of choice had thus far been a t-shirt, which is a mightily effective shooing tool. It doesn't do much in the way of killing, though, so this time I grabbed a magazine. A thick, heavy copy of Wired, handed down from Adam, meant to be cut apart and used to decoupage things. After positioning myself in such a way that I could hit it without knocking anything off the desk, I made my move. One swift swing of a periodical was all it took to smush that little fuckers guts all over the screen - gross, admittedly, but also very satisfying. We all know how much I love my violence, after all. And besides, it was pissing me off. It kept interrupting my Buffy, which is a federal offense in and of itself. Punishable by capitol mean, I'm pretty sure.
I didn't leave the fly innards on the monitor. I'm something of a slob, granted, but even I wouldn't leave a flattened corpse just lying around. Also, I was afraid that it would regenerate itself and attack me with renewed vigor. So I flushed the remains, said goodbye (read: "so long, flying imp of satan"), and came back upstairs to write in my dear online diary. Exciting, no?
In non-smashed guts news, it was gorgeous out today. A "hey, let's pack up some food and have a picnic in the park because it's just SO DAMN NICE OUT" kind of day. I didn't have a picnic, but Adam and I did make dinner for his mom. We made pasta and garlic bread and vegetables and peach crisp. It was yummy delicious, not to mention the only real meal I've has since... Mother's Day. Although I don't think that even counts, since we went to the Outback Steakhouse and I ended up with a bowl of steamed veggies and some mashed potatoes while everyone else worked through mountains of chicken and steak. But suffice it to say that it's been a very long time since I've eaten a proper meal, with an entr�e and side dishes and dessert. It was nice.
After dinner, we decided to take Buddy for a walk by the river. As we were driving back to my house to pick up the furry beast, I saw someone walking a black dog down Front Street. "Hey," I said, "that looks like my dog." To which Adam responded: "Isn't that your mom?" And it was, so we parked the car on Edward Street and ran to catch up with her. We walked for a while, which was nice save for Buddy's complete lack of manners. Say it with me now - obedience school.
"Obedience" is a strange word. Say it out loud a few times. Oh. Bead. E. Ens. It's very peculiar.
We rented Scotland, PA after our dog-walking adventure, and as we watched it we ate lemon pie with Cool Whip. The movie was pretty good, as a movie with a guy getting fried to death and someone cutting their own hand off and Christopher Walken as a vegetarian detective logically would be. It's a remake of Macbeth, and the person who cuts their own hand off is "Lady Macbeth," as it were. "Out, damn spot," indeed. I recommend it. While we were at Blockbuster, I saw a Hello Kitty purse that I need to get my hands on next time I have some cash. It's smallish and plasticky and it has fruits on it! Fruits! I love fruit motifs.
I also wanted to rent Gacy, which is (duh) about John Wayne Gacy and his serial killing madness. I really do have this sick fascination with serial killers, and I have to wonder what exactly that says about me. Seriously. Someone out there should analyze me.
Anyway, Buffy calls. Also the bathroom. Cheers.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005