…with tales of spiders!  Spine chilling!  Riveting!  You can’t turn away!

Not really.  I conquered my fear of spiders a couple of years ago.  It involved a couple hours spent in the company of dozens of tarantulas in an insectarium (is that a word?) in Newfoundland and though it was one of the most horrific experiences of my life, I am pleased to report that it cured me.  Exposure works!  Still and all, if I found a spider on my person I would be most displeased, perhaps to the point of shreiking and flailing, maybe even to regressive crying, but I say let he who is without sin etc., etc.

Here is something actually alarming: I have invited my mom to go to the ballet with me.  We went once when I was very little (The Nutcracker, of course), and I loved it.  And even though I am no longer little I thought it would be nice if we went together, no?  But we’re not really close despite repeated threats to start hanging out more we are virtual strangers (we live about five minutes apart and see each other about four times a year).  How do you feel when you invite a virtual stranger out for the evening?  Imagine, say, a virtual stranger who is also your mother and all the complications this causes (mother = stranger, it is, as Oprah would undoubtedly say, fraught).

Will she say yes?  Will she suggest we invite along my step sister who is a perfectly lovely person and utterly blameless but a source of constant misery to me because my mom spends her free time with her and not me?  Will rampaging hippopotamuses trample us to death during intermission?  (Did you know hippos kill more people each year than any other animal?  It’s true!  I think!)

In other news, my body continues to betray me, which is a real puzzler because what did I ever do to it?  A few years ago I had a suspicious mole removed (and in case you weren’t a reader of mine four years ago, I should tell you the story of that mole because it’s a humdinger!) which turned out to have pre-cancerous cells in it, and when they cut it out they couldn’t get clear margins (because of where it was located, which is also part of the hilarious yet poignant story).  As far as I can tell it hasn’t grown back but! But I have a new mole doing strange things in a new place and when I showed it to my doctor she examined it for about one third of a second before declaring it has to go, and referring me to a dermatologist.  Who will need to inspect my entire person, scalp to toes, for more removables.  Nudity before strangers: Oh the shame!

Also, I am still obnoxious and recently called a garbage man a fucking asshole.  It felt great and he absolutely deserved it and I’m not sorry one bit.