Got Bugs? Stay Away From Me, Please.

Spring and I...we just don't get along.

I mean, it's not even *technically* Spring yet, and I already hate it. Urgh.

To know why I hate Spring so much, you have to know two things about me -

1. Deathly afraid of anything that could be classified as a bug.

2. Allergic to pollen.

I think it's safe to say that Spring is somewhat close to hell for me.

You know, I am starting to believe that nature can actually SENSE this hatred. And, the way that they get back at me for so actively hating on it...

Is to see how many bugs/pollen it can shove into my personal bubble at one time.

Take this morning for instance -

I walked outside to a LOVELY morning, not a cloud in the bright blue sky, birds chirping...a total Snow White moment, if you will.

That was until I decided to take a deep breath full of fresh air, and got a mouth full of moist pollen.

Mmmm. Breakfast. (But that's a story for another time!)

Two seconds later, I was chased from my porch by a very volatile bumblebee. Oh.Em.Gee, do I hate bumblebees.

This wasn't the first time that I knew it was getting dangerously close to Spring, though. Oh, no. That would be a few mornings ago. You see, my dad has this terribly strange obsession with leaving our back door WIDE open, as if to invite nature just to come right on into our house and have a seat.

...and it does.

However, on this particular morning, said nature item was a fly. A very annoying fly...a NINJA FLY!

Now, I know that you think I'm just crazy, but hear me out here...it was most definitely some kind of ninja fly on a mission from it's leader or something.

First, it kept getting tangled in my hair while I was trying to sleep. I was finally made aware of this, by the incessant "buzzing" noise that was going off in my ear. After a few swats, he managed to get out of there. (I would have thought it would have been death by hairspray inhalation, but...y'know.) I thought he was gone for good. So, I tried to go back to sleep.

OF COURSE NOT!

He was crawling up my leg, puttering across my face, inspecting my ears...just all around being a nuisance. Finally, in a fit of rage, I was forced to just give it up and wake up. I have a strict personal rule - do NOT wake me up unless you are going to feed me or take me shopping. Since I have a feeling that this fly had no intention of doing either, it was certain death for the creature.

Oh well, rules is rules.

Last year, there were two particular bugs that were out to get me.

One was the stealth-bomber beetle (some strange, exotic kind) that lived under my porch, and the other was a sneaky Black Widow that lived in my mailbox.

For some reason, the stupid beetle started thinking that my porch was his property. I don't even remember him signing a lease, and I sure as hell wasn't getting any rent, so I continued to use the stairs as normal.

WRONG!

So WRONG!

As soon as my foot hit the first step, the beetle was out from under the porch, and chasing me around the yard. At first, I didn't know that it was a beetle. I thought it was an angry bird.

...that should let you know the proportions of this "beetle."

The last straw was when it wouldn't let me go up the steps at all. Every time I got close to my porch, it would chase me away. I was left outside for a very long time. Finally, I resorted to jumping up and down in front of the kitchen window and waving my arms. Hoping, by chance, someone would notice me and send for help.

It didn't help too much, mostly just attracted the dogs' attention, and they were content just to sit there and watch me dance around the yard, trying to get someone to notice me.

An exterminator finally pointed us in the direction of some sort of foaming spray insecticide that coated them with a crust of goo, or something. I really don't know what it did...but it got rid of that beetle!

It was also useful for pest #2 - sneaky Black Widow in the mailbox. This one taught me that no  matter where I am...there is a creepy crawly waiting to pounce on me. This time - it just so happened to be in my mailbox. Thankfully, it didn't get to touch me, or I would have been certain that I was dying of spider poisoning.

It did however scare the pants off of me, and almost cause me to take a running dive into oncoming traffic. So, you know...death either way.

No one initially wanted to believe that it was a Black Widow. However, I happen to know that "red hourglass on the butt" is not just the hot new look for spiders this Spring.

I was able to get rid of him with my super-strength foamy goo spray, as well. It works almost as good as hairspray!

I was, however, scarred for life from that point, though. I now have a habit of checking the mail with an oven mitt and a pair of tongs.

Ok. Just kidding.

...about the oven mitt.

I'm Better Than You...No...Really.

"Anything you can do, I can do better."

It's true...just ask my fiance.

Everything that I have is always better than what he has - even right down to my food.

I guess I should be thankful - I know that whatever I am eating, I will only get half of it, and, therefore, only half of the calories.

But, sometimes, it's just plain perturbing. I mean, it's my food! Get your own, buddy! I mean, call me crazy...but I would at least like to take ONE bite before someone else starts pawing at it.

I know that when we are out eating, and he claims to "not be hungry," that he already has plans for the food that I haven't even ordered yet. I have tried everything to get him to just order his own food...even right down to offering to pick his food out for him. He uses the same excuse every time -

"You never eat it all, anyways."

Well, how the HELL would he know? I'm never given the chance! Maybe I would, if I had time to eat it. Right now, it's just a race to see how many bites I can get in before he finishes it.

I'll never forget the time that my mom was taking us to the movies. We made the obligatory stop by "Wal-Mart" so that we could stuff our purses with cheap candy. (Movie-snack prices are outrageous, come ON!)
She told him to pick out WHATEVER candy he wanted, and she would buy it for him. Who turns down free candy? No one, right??

RIGHT???

Wrong.

My wonderful fiance, the KING of all candy lovers...

Turned down free candy.

Him - "I don't want any candy."

*insert silent alarm going off here*

Me - "What do you mean, you don't want any candy? That's ridiculous. You love candy. Just get some candy and let's go."
Him - "I'm not hungry. I don't want any."

Me - "Well, you will want candy when the movie starts...just get something, oh my God."

Him - "I SAID I DON'T WANT ANY CANDY!!"

Me - "Look, I'm getting peanut butter Whoppers. Do you want a box of those?"
Him - "NO. CANDY."

...

okay?

*five minutes into the movie*

Him - "Where are those Whoppers."

*insert sound of me opening a can of whoop-ass here*

See what I mean?

It's always been like that. I mean, I've had friends before that were like this (girls), but never a man...sheesh!

Oh, and don't think that it's only when he doesn't have his own that he wants mine. He's perfectly fine with eating his portion and the customary half of mine, as well.

There are times when I have put my foot down, though.

Here in the deep fried South, we have a heavenly place known as "Zaxby's." They are a chicken and wings restaurant...but they have the most wonderful appetizers. Such awesome things as fried pickles, french fries, homemade tater chips, fried mushrooms, and my favorite...

Fried white cheddar cheese bites.

*faints at the thought*

We decided to get our lunch from there, one day. *I* decided to lay down the law from the start -

"If you are hungry - I suggest that you get your own food, because this is Zaxby's and I don't share! when I start eating - I would definitely keep all fingers away from my plate unless you are wanting to lose it."

But, of course...he wasn't hungry.

*rolls eyes*

Oh well, suit yourself, dude.
So, imagine me having to spend the next 20 minutes or so defending my food. I mean, I probably was burning off calories as fast as I was eating them. There were hands coming at me from all directions - I was having to duck and dodge like crazy.

However, I was determined that *I* was going to consume ALL of MY cheese bites, if it was the last thing I did.

...and I succeeded.

And I was so stinkin' full that I couldn't eat for almost three days.

Sometimes, victory can make you nauseous.