Spiders to me are like casual acquaintences

Spiders are like the people that you know, you say hi to. You might bump into them at the party of a mutual acquaintence. You don't hate them. You actually appreciate their individuality and what they have to offer the world. But you don't have their number in your cell phone. You've never slept on their floor. You wouldn't get drunk with them, because you wouldn't want them to see something of you that you didn't intend to show. And you would be downright livid if they asked you to help them move or give them a ride to the airport at 5:30 a.m.

When I meet them (spiders or casual acquaintences), on their turf, in places where they belong, I don't think about them too much. I can even appreciate the beauty of dew on a spiderweb or a when a particularly large and colorful one lands on me while I hike, I will not avoid that spot on the way back.

However, when they come into my house uninvited, they are likely to get shooed outside. Or if one seems particularly agressive, it'll probably get squashed. (Now, I assume that squashing only applies to spiders, but I am not altogether certain what I would do if I were reasonably convinced that one of my casual aqcuaintences would bite me if I allowed them to get too close.)When they decide to congregate in the stairwell of my workplace and spawn their offspring there, that is going waaay beyond what I am comfortable with. I mean, come on...There are plenty of bushes and dark damp spots right outside of this building in which you are most welcome to hang your egg sacs and spin your shiny sticky webs where they will not get all over my face and in my hair. All over my face and in my hair...I think I'm going to be ill.

So, this is not an unreasonable fear of small arachnids. It is a desire to keep certain things and people at a comfortable distance or in scenarios that are acceptable to me. The little buggers have overstepped my boundaries. And there are too many of them to shoo or squish. If you know of a good exterminator in the Wheaton area, please let me know so I can refer their services to the landlord here.

Stupid Elevator.

We have successfully moved into our new apartment in the Wheaton towers. It is beginning to feel more like home the more we get things into place. The view from our balcony is awesome. I anticipate watching the leaves change from there. Free air conditioning is a definite plus. Not because I particularly like having the place at 60 degrees, but because we don't feel a financial burden when Richard decides he likes it that way. There are yoga classes included in my gym membership in the building that we live in. There's also a dry cleaner downstairs, though I don't make a habit of buying anything that needs to be ironed, much less dry cleaned, so that's a moot point.

The one thing I am having major difficulty with is the elevator. I am not particularly afraid of heights or of small spaces, so the occasional strange noise doesn't phase me. What I am concerned with, however, is elevator etiquette. This elevator has already physically trapped me in a number of awkward social situations. First of all are the general questions of etiquette: "Should I talk to this person or pretend that she's not here?", "Should I reach over this person and press my floor button or break the silence and ask them to press it for me?", and "How do I respond to drunk guy who wants to shake my hand and is thoroughly confused that both my friend and I have been given the same name?" Oh, wait, that last one was not general. And then there is the little old lady who has on 4 separate elevator rides asked if we have water in our apartment. I have considered a preemptive strike when I see her: "I am so glad that the flood on the 7th floor did not affect us."

I have succesfully mastered the socially acceptable "Morning Elevator Conversation". This mostly involves some comment about coffee or not having had coffee or a caffeine iv drip and if someone responds with, "I don't drink coffee." or is too chipper, abruptly ending the conversation and staring sullenly into the corner. I also can handle the "Conversation with Little Boy who is Going to Fight the Monsters Outside". Duh. No brainer. What kind of monsters? Where are they hiding? Do you know any kung fu moves to fight them with? (His mom loved me after that one as I headed the opposite direction and he started flailing wildly.)

Now all I have to do is figure out the rest of the scenarios.