Creepy Crawlers

This is an untold story from my time in Zimbabwe that I am sharing for my friend who recently had a near heart attack from a spider in her car. So, miss Aylin, this story is dedicated to you.

When I first arrived in Zimbabwe I was pleasantly surprised by my cozy little room where I would stay for the majority of my time there. Although it was well-kept and clean, as I walked through the small lodge I noticed that there were spiders...everywhere. Big black spiders, many easily the size of my fist when taking into account their long legs. During the evenings I would sit in the common area and out of boredom would count the spiders hanging on the walls. One evening I counted 17 in the one small room. Like I said, they were everywhere.

Immediately Tecla told me, "Do not kill the spiders. They are not dangerous, and they kill other things that are dangerous." I am not really creeped out by creepy crawlers, and if I was I had more important things to worry about, such as centipedes, scorpions, and snakes which also seemed to greet me on a regular basis.

So, I trusted Tecla, went a month ignoring the spiders, and they seemed to ignore me. That is, until one evening as I settled into bed I spotted a humongous spider on the wall, right by where I laid my head to sleep. I had been pretty accommodating, but this spider, my friends, was pushing the limits. I grabbed my shoe and took a quick swipe at him. I kid you not he lunged toward me before I even knew what was happening.

That is the point that the predator became the prey, and I discovered the spider was out for my life.

As he chased me around the room, one shoe on and the other in my hand (leaving my other barefoot vulnerable) I jumped and dodged from the bed to the chair and back again, apparently shrieking and squealing with each close call. In a few short moments the night guard, Dumisani, was knocking at my door. (Dumisani deserves an entire post of his own...he was my protector, prayer warrior and friend. Shortly after I left he passed away, but I am so happy and blessed that I had the opportunity to know him).

Dumisani helped me corner the little sucker and together we escorted him to creepy crawler heaven. I went to bed and slept peacefully, but awoke to find that during the night one of the spider's friends sought revenge on me for their fallen comrade. Tecla was right, the spiders weren't seriously dangerous, but I was left with a pesky little bite that had me doped up on Benadryl for the entire day.

After the bite I realized that these were not your average spiders. These spiders had sent me a message. They would allow me to stay peacefully if I did the same for them. I am pretty sure it was no coincidence that the only bite that I got was the same night of my only spider killing.

Message received.

I continued living with the spiders almost peacefully. There was some tension during the weeks that I stayed in another home with a thatched roof, sleeping with a sheet over my head so no spiders (or other creepy crawlers) would fall from the roof and into my mouth in the middle of the night (which I am happy to say was a strategy that proved successful). And then, of course, there was the spider in the shower incident, but I will leave that to your imagination. For the most part, though, we continued on in our peaceful truce.

That is until my mom came to visit.

As my mom and the visiting ministry team walked through the lodge someone commented on the spiders. I warned them, as Tecla did for me, not to kill the spiders. In addition I added an additional caution that if you leave them alone they'll do the same for you, but if you try to kill them they will attack. I heard a few giggles, restated my concern -this time with more urgency, heard full on laughter, and decided to leave them to their fate.

I kid you not it was that very evening as I was walking down that hall that I heard shrieks and squeals coming from my bedroom. I opened the door to find my mom on the run, shoe in hand, in full-on escape mode. 

Funniest moment ever. I was laughing so hard that all I could say to was, "I told you so."

I believe that evening Dumisani once again came running to the rescue, but this time both spider and human somehow managed to survive unharmed.

And that is how memories are made.

So, my friends, a word of wisdom: If you ever visit Zimbabwe, let the spiders be. 

My Dating Profile, an Update

So, some of you may remember my post from a few months back, My Dating Profile.

Well, I must have struck a chord with someone somewhere, because it has become my most viewed post ever. In fact, I've recieved a lot of comments on this post that I have not published, because sadly they were not exactly appropriate for my nice little blog.

Then last week, because of this single post, I was offered a (paid) position as a relationship (expert) and coach.

Ha. If that isn't crazy, I don't know what is.

Unless clients want to pay for advice about how to run into a cactus and bleed profusely while on a date, attract a man pursuing a career in mind reading, or scare their date away in 3.8 seconds flat, I'm afraid they will be greatly disappointed.

So, dear masses, I must apologize because I will not be able to sell you any of my expert advice.

But, my friends, don't despair. I will leave you with a couple tid-bits for free.

* If you run into a cactus on a date, don't try to brush it off like nothing happened. If you do it will be hard to explain the blood all over your shirt a few minutes later.

* If your date tells you to look into his eyes and think of a color, and is still trying to guess the color (which was red) ten minutes later, it's time to walk away.

* If you want the date to last more than 3.8 seconds, don't talk about things like getting kicked out of a country, pitbulls, eating termites, or your love for Bangladesh. Apparently that freaks people out.

* And last, but not least, always be yourself. If you do decide to make an online dating profile, don't try to come off as more cool or collected than you really are. The true you should shine through, especially in your profile picture.

Happy dating,

My Dating Profile

As I inch closer to 30, it seems like people are getting more and more determined to get me married off.

Currently I am incredibly content in my singleness. I just wish everyone else was.

As you have noticed, dating is not really a topic I share about online, although there really is not much to share. But I will say that through the collaboration of several experiences, I have come to the conclusion that dating is pure evil.

For the most part, the first couple dates are interviews where we try to come off as the most qualified candidate with the most polished answers. Which is useless, because it's all fake. And, personally, I have a hard time following through this stage to see what is on the other side because it is like suffering a slow and awkward death.

I think the first few dates should reveal all the weird, eccentric, possible deal-breaker stuff. Cause really, you've gotta be cool with all that stuff to get anywhere.

With that said, I do not currently have a dating profile online of elsewhere (and don't plan to), but if I did, it would go something like this:

My name is Rebecca, and I am 29 years old (until Friday, anyways). I have brown hair that is being over taken by uncontrollable frizzy grays. I have a pitbull that is my baby, who will bark and growl at you and probably scare the crap out of you the first time you meet him. But if you make it through that, he will love you for life. Did I mention he sleeps in my bed? I talk to him pretty much all the time, and if he is not around I talk to myself.

I love to laugh, and usually the things I think are really funny no one else finds amusing...at all. When I laugh really hard I snort, but usually this only happens in really inappropriate places, like the library. Or church.

I believe in bigfoot, pop my knuckles, have a major thing for Robert Downey Jr. (who I call Bobby), shave my legs as little as possible, and I love (I mean LOVE) to argue. I am really frugal and will not throw out a pair of good comfy pants until wearing them walks the line of indecent exposure. If I wear an outfit I feel good in on Saturday, most likely you will see me in it on Sunday. And maybe even on Monday.

I can sleep anywhere, and atleast one day a week you can find me napping at the park on my break. I love So You Think You Can Dance, and watching it makes me think I can dance. But believe me, I can't. Ask my dog.

I work with special needs kids, and I will be telling you lots of kid stories. Many of them will include bodily functions and fluids, and I will expect you to listen to them all. And maybe even enjoy it.

Turn-ons include: foreign men in capri pants, an appreciation of children and recognition of their brilliance, a great sense of adventure, humility, wackiness.

Turn-offs include: ignorance, perfectionism, rude driving, materialism, laziness, fear of getting dirty.

Oh, and by the way, at the drop of the dime, if God says, "Go," I will pick up and go to any desolate, impoverished, or dangerous place He may send me.

Still interested? Drop me line. (But don't really, this isn't real, kay?)

True Story

Today I went to Target. As I walked in the store I realized I wasn't sure what exactly I was there for.

Naturally I bought some fresh popped popcorn and left.

I came home and looked in the mirror and my shirt is on inside out.

And I still don't remember what I needed at Target.

That One Time When You Realized How Weird I Really Am

So I have to admit that sometimes living in California is just plain sucky.

Exhibit A:

But then there are the things that make up for it.

Like this practically being in my back yard:

Then there are things like the occasional brush with fame. Usually those kinds of things don't tickle my fancy quite so much, but I have to say that on Sunday, my fancy was tickled but none other than the crew of:

Some of you remember that awhile back I briefly mentioned a slight obsession with Bigfoot (and the intrigue and excitement of discovering its possible existence).

So, you can imagine my excitement when I discovered that this very distinguished crew of trackers and researchers was looking for Bigfoot in none other than my very own back yard.

Whenever we go hiking I always tell my friends to keep a look-out for Bigfoot clues, and they mock. So you can imagine how hard it was for me not to burst as I sat on the plane with the Finding Bigfoot people, wanting to text all my friends a big fat "I told you so."

They finished filming today, and we will not know their findings until the episode airs. But, my friends, I must confess, I believe.

Do you?

On a side note: I wonder if bear attack deterrent is sasquatch effective.

Confessions part 5

*Today one of my students told me to stop being so weird. Excuse me, but let's use the word quirky from now on, kay?

*The Neverending Story scares the crap out of me (thanks for reminding me, Cat).

*I sneak Target popcorn into the movies (let me clarify: $3 movies), usually as well as a vanilla coke from Sonic, assuming it's happy hour. I'm a rebel at heart. And cheap.

*Turning 30 in a few months is messing with my mind.

*I eat my hamburgers from the outside in (in a circular pattern).

*I like canned sardines with ritz crackers, and I eat avocados with salt and a spoon.

*One time as I was flirting I tried to smoothly glide on top of a picnic table and I fell between the bench and table. And I was wearing a dress.

*In 8th grade I wore black lipstick. In 9th grade I grew up and wore silver (but only on special occasions).

*I left my heart in the 90's. With long haired men, flannel, holey jeans, and anything grunge. It's a happier place.

*Last week on American Idol they followed a contestant who lives in a tent in the middle of the woods...and part of me was jealous.

Okay, now I'm going go look for something I've lost, and shortly after try to remember what I am looking for. And that's my life.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

My roomate is in the kitchen making cookies, and just realized we are out of baking soda. I promptly turned to ask.com to find if there is, in fact, a substitution for baking soda. I found a possible answer, but being as helpful as ask.com is, they didn't stop there. They oh so kindly offered me a "similar" search to help me out...

How to make crack.

After much deliberation we decided to stick to the snickerdoodles. But thanks anyways, ask.com.

What a wonderful age of technology we live in with the world at our fingertips.

On another note...

Today I went hiking with a friend and my dog. And yes, I remembered my "Bear Attack Deterrent". When I came home and checked out the pictures I discovered that I had walked around all day with Punky Brewster hair. Oh, and yes, I went to church like this too:

This would actually be a really cute picture if I was six...and it was 1988.

Anyhoo...hope your Sunday was as lovely as mine.

Bears Beware

I spent Thanksgiving day with my dad.

The last time I saw my dad was shortly after the great bear adventure of 2011.

Naturally, as soon as I walked through the door on Thanksgiving day, my dad handed me a magazine and this (holster included):

The magazine was opened to a four page article about a man who had been attacked by a bear in California.

I read the article and accepted the gift graciously, and understood that in "dad language" he was saying,

"I love you and I do not want you to be mauled to death by a bear."

He also suggested I keep it with me, even in town, as it works on humans just as well.

So, I would like to say a big thank you to my dad in taking a proactive stand in me not being eaten by a bear.

And to all the bears out there:

Beware. It's locked and loaded.

Confessions part 3

*The movie Signs scarred me for life. To this day, sometimes when I walk downstairs at night to get a drink of water, I swear I'll catch a glimpe of an alien through the sliding glass door.

*I use to be boy crazy. One time I ran into a sign and got a black eye 'cause I was, well, distracted. By a boy. Yep, very very boy crazy. Now I'm just crazy.

*That reminds me. I got my first black eye while chasing a snowflake...right into a pole. Sometimes I run into things. Which is why my dad's nickname for me growing up was Lumpy.

*Sometimes I use a fork to scratch my back. But only when I'm really really desperate. And I almost never put it back in the drawer. (Mark, that one was for you.)

*The Wizard of Oz always has and always will give me nightmares. Tornadoes and flying monkeys...it's a lose lose situation.

*I have probably burned more calories in my life dancing to Tubthumping by Chumbawamba than by all my other workouts combined. Yes, I know it is a horrible song. That's what makes it a confession.

*On a more serious note, this girl has been on my mind constantly lately. I was even praying about finding another job so I could afford/qualify to adopt her myself. Then I realized that to adopt from her country, you have to be married. So, Bob, if you're out there....

P.S. If you haven't read the Bob saga, you really should. It's good stuff.

Confessions part 2

*One weekend about four years ago I was housesitting and had the rare treat of cable television. There was a bigfoot marathon on, and I watched it for 24 hours straight (this is one of the reasons why I should never and will never have cable :) Thus, I am now obsessed with bigfoot (and tornadoes, but that's a whole 'nother cable marathon experience).

*I add water to things like liquid soap, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, ect. to make them last longer.

*I almost always write ect. instead of etc.

*The circus scares me.

*My summer pajamas are a pair of boxer shorts that I bought from Old Navy in 1997. They are plaid. They have a hole on the right side that is so big I stick my leg through it while putting them on about 59% of the time. I think it's time to let them go...but I just.can't.do.it.

*I like fried spam sandwiches and biscuits with chocolate gravy.

A Day in the Life

Today I...

Lectured a student about not peeing outside (atleast not at school) until I was blue in the face...and for good reason.

Witnessed a sweet eight-year-old girl with autism comfort an upset classmate (which is huge, by the way). She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and hugged their cheeks together and just held him- and he didn't pull away. After sitting like this for a few moments she turned to him and oh-so-gently began cleaning out his ear with her finger. Oh well. It was sweet while it lasted.

Climbed to the top of the jungle gym to help one of our students. When I started to go back down a little boy (who is not in our class) held my arm and asked me if he could help me down. He walked just in front of me and guided me down step by step- because apparently I am too elderly and frail nowadays to get my senile self off the jungle gym ;)

I live the sweet life.

Pop a Squat

I'm sorry for the lack of depth my posts have had lately, but I have spent the last day catching up on life and the internet, and this is one of those things that just needs to be said.

Since when is squatting cool?

Incase you haven't seen this yet, the new "thing to do" is owling.

Basically owling is squatting and posing like an owl, and posting the pictures online. The sillier places you squat, the "cooler" you are.

This is a real thing people. I read about it in the Washington Post for crying outloud. It is the new planking, which I didn't understand either, but this is getting out of control.

I am all for doing crazy weird things, but I am 97% sure that there is a person whose goal in life is to make people look as stupid as possible, and thus came up with a way to get them to squat in public for no apparently good reason.

Source

Should this photo be called

Owling

or

How to Use a Squatty Potty

???

I just don't get it. If you do, please explain. Maybe everyone is losing their mind. Maybe people spend so much time in front of the computer that they don't know there are actual fun and cool things to do in the world. Or maybe I'm just getting old.

I should stop there, but with all that said, I must say that for some unexplainable reason, I think this guy is cool.

Source

Maybe he started it all and everyone wants to be like him. I don't know. I'm just so confused.

Good ol' Google

I just checked my stats and discovered that people have been coming to my blog through a google search of

Jerry Springer that baby aint mine....

I just searched it and my blog came up numero uno.

Is it weird that this makes me happy?

Why You Should Wear Your Glasses...Especially in the Woods

First I must say that this story is likely one of those "you had to be there" stories, but I thought I should share it anyways. If not for a laugh, then for your safety.

One of my favorite things to do is hiking. I grew up camping and fishing and running around barefoot and dirty in the woods, so it really is a place that feels like home.

Last weekend my friend Mary Ann and I went up the mountain to hike to the top of a waterfall. It was a beautiful day and we were ready for some adventure.

We had no idea what we were in for.

We started on our trail, and a few minutes later as we turned a corner Mary Ann grabbed my arm and whispered that there was a bear to our right.

Fact. Bears eat beets. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

I look up ahead to the right, and I see it there, the large brown bear by the trail that my friend was assumably talking about. 

I start to back up from the big scary bear when she points out the bear that she is actually talking about, which is to our immediate right, way too close for comfort.

Then I see the bear cubs that are now closely to the back of us.

We are going to die.

She starts to pull me forward, but frantically I tell her to stop because she obviously is blind and doesn't see the other huge, gigantic, massive bear to the front of us. We are surrounded.

We can't go back without getting closer to the cubs, we can't move forward because of the huge bear that waits for us at the next corner, and if we stay there we will die by the sharp teeth of an angry momma. So we go to the left, up the mountain, around the mamma and babies, and finally around the other bear that my friend still doesn't see....

We get a safe distance and stop to breathe and to take some pictures.

After a few moments my eyes focus on the other bear, and realize why she didn't see it...

Because it was a log.

Yes, I almost died of a heart attack and made my friend climb up the side of the mountain to safely get around a huge log.

Blind. Old. Lady.

Long story short, we survived the real bears, and the stupid log bear, and we made it to the top of the falls.

On our way back down the hill we laughed hysterically about that stupid log that I was freaking out about, and I made note that a lot of logs really do look like bears.

We decided that on the way back we should stop by the bear log and take a picture so we could look back at it and laugh.  

But then, as we neared the log, we saw this...

Needless to say,

we got the heck out of the bear haven, 

Mary Ann's husband will never let her go hiking with me again, 

and you should always wear your glasses in the woods.  

Confessions

You know how people make comments on facebook and twitter followed by a #andmorewords. I don't know what that means.

I am blind but I don't wear my glasses. I am even required to wear them when I drive, but they make me feel like I am hovering. Not sure thats safer.

When I leave comments on other blogs I almost always forget to click "subscribe to comments"...so I spend a good amount of time trying to remember what comments I made so I can check back and see if they replied...because if their reply requires my reply I don't want to be rude.

My world is spinning way too fast and I have accepted the fact that I am not going to catch up with everything that has happened over the last month with all my bloggy friends. So if there was something important, just tell me.

When I read or write posts with links and the links do not open in a new window it drives me nuts. Anyone know how to make it do that?

And last but not least, school starts next week, and that makes me want to curl up and cry. For the first time ever I am not excited and or ready for the first day. I haven't had time to rest and refuel. My patience is at a low, and in my job patience is the number one job requirement. Help.

Oh, Yeah. And I haven't worked out at all this week (other than swimming) because I washed my tennis shoes four days ago, and I have been too lazy to lace them.

 

Oh, Dear

Today, I came home from work feeling super motivated. This whole eating crazy healthy thing has inspired me to live healthier all around, which has helped me feel better even though my body is still completely out of whack.

I decided to do my favorite new workout. I went upstairs and changed, and came down to realize I had forgotten my shoes. I went back upstairs and got my shoes. Came downstairs to realize I forgot my weights. Went back upstairs and did who knows what and came back downstairs...without the weights. Lets just make a long story short here and say that getting ready for my workout was as much of a workout as the actual workout.

To redeem myself, I decided to make some tea. I was victorious and remembered to turn the stove off before the water boiled dry. Ha, take that.

Just in case anyone is keeping track, the score is now

Me: 1           Hormones: 587

Lately...

Less than two years ago I was doing this:

Last week I climbed up the jungle gym to show one of my students how to slide down the pole,

And I chickened out....

Whats happening to me? 

Whats in a Name

I have always been one to make up nicknames for people.

I myself have always loved when people give me nicknames (for the most part ;). They are a special little link to someone else.

Growing up my dad called me "Lumpy" because I had ear infections frequently, and would fall or run into things on a regular basis. I would always have bumps and bruises from my clumsiness, therefore making me Lumpy.

I think I got my nicknaming talent from him.

I don't purposefully try to think of a nickname for all the people I know, but a lot of times they come to me, and they stick.

Although most of them don't make sense to other people, they come from special little quirks or events that only we understand.

When I was a group home manager, one of my dearest girls I called Chicken Donut. Chicken donuts are those donuts that are lumpy and a little crisp on the outside, and they are soft and sweet and yummy in the middle. (They are not really called chicken donuts, I call them that cause they look kinda like fried chicken). Anyways, they are my favorite donut, and this girl was one of my favorite girls. Not to mention that she was hard and rough on the outside, but had the sweetest little heart. She will forever be my Chicken Donut. I still have countless little notes from her, always signed "Your one and only Chicken Donut."

And then at other times the names stick for so long, and they are so weird, I don't even remember where they came from.

I have a good friend named Alicia. Naturally, I call her Richard. Yep, don't know why. But I do.

Unfortunately, though, I have recently found that there is a downfall to my nicknaming. 

Sometimes, after calling someone by a nickname for a long time, and then going years without seeing the person, and then getting old person brain, you can actually forget their real name.

And then when you see such a person, and you call out the only name you can think of for them, some people may look at you weird.

Like when you yell out "Hasselhoff!" in a crowded store, and all the middle-aged women get weak in the knees scanning the area for the Baywatch heart throb (puke), only to cause great disappointment for them and humiliation for yourself.

Or when little girls grow up, and they don't like you yelling "Booboo!" out the window when you pick them up from high school.

What's the deal with that?

Anyhoo, I know that I will always love nicknames, and I cherish the ones that others have given me, no matter how absurd the may be.

What about you? Any special, embarassing, or just weird nicknames you have but you love?

Until next time,

Becca
Bek
Becca Boo
Smiley
Cheeks
Cubby
Honey Bee
Shorty
B
Lumpy

Sweet Dreams

The other day I read a study about sleep/dream patterns and what they say about a person.

I have vivid, realistic, and often intense dreams nearly every time I sleep. I wake up and usually can remember several dreams from one night's sleep...or even a 20 minute nap.

Apparently this means that I am more prone to schizophrenia than the average person :/

It also means that I am most likely quirky, off beat, and a bit odd.



Yeah, I am pretty sure they don't know what they're talking about.

Things That Children May Pee In

I have to open this post by saying that I absolutely LOVE my job. I work in special education, and the children I work with really do bring joy to my life.

With that said, some days are days where you have to either laugh or cry. Yesterday was one of those days, and I chose to laugh. One of the many events that took place yesterday inspired this post.

Here are some things, that I know first hand, that children may pee in.

This one I credit to boys being boys.

This one makes sense but doesn't at the same time. It is in the bathroom, but come one, the toilet is so close!

This is the pot that we cook pretend meals in. The pretend soup has been forever tainted.

In defense of the child who peed in the pot (previous picture), it was located here. Hey, I guess the kid was just making himself at home.

I think this one is the funniest, but maybe because it happened to a friend of mine and not me.

And last but not least, we all thought it was so cute when one of the students sat on this therapy tube and said "toilet". We thought it was so creative for him to use his imagination that way, as many autistic children are literal to the core. It wasn't so cute a couple days later when one of the other students, who heard it called "toilet", did take it literally.


So there you go, you have been warned.