Friday, September 23, 2005


I want to move. Desperately. Not because the house is going to be too small when I have the new baby in April...although that was the main reason until about 5:30 this morning.

So I was sound asleep having a bizarre dream. This girl Raymi, whose blog I read, was on Oprah because she has an incredible amount of people read her blog. I mean really quite the following. And I, pathetically, am one of them. Her site is truly addicting. At any rate, Oprah was all...Oh Raymi..I love you! I wear your t-shirts! I give your mugs as presents to my guests! I can't stop checking your site to see what you're up to....blah blah blah. Everyone in the audience were her fans...Raymi's, not Oprah's. Oprah was practically drooling. It was weird. Even weirder because I don't have cable and never think about Oprah.

ANYWAY...back to my rude awakening. So, at 5:30 this morning, Rob comes bursting into the bedroom and says "Cher! I just got bit by a spider!" I sit straight up and say "Where?!!!" and he says "ON MY BALLS!!" I'm like "WHAT???!!!! TURN THE LIGHT ON!!" So he does and sure enough, there's a red spot on his balls where he did indeed get bitten! He said it hurt really bad and that it felt like they got caught in a zipper. Apparently he was drying off after showering and it must have been on his towel. SO...he was on his way to work and I called him and said "I think you should come home and get the spider and go to the hospital." He calls his Seargent and tells him the deal, comes home, gets the spider and I notice he looks puffy. He said his throat felt weird too. So off he goes to the hospital where they tell him there's not much they can do. He has no respitory problems and the swelling isn't that bad. They send him off with an antihistamine and he leaves. He calls me and says he's on his way to work! Because apparently the Canadian Military will crumble if he's not there today. So he takes the pill because he's afraid to swell more...and is now operating heavy machinery. I'm sooooo freakin mad. This kind of stuff only happens with THIS particular Seargent. He's a dick. I told Rob that I was going to call him and tear a strip off him. He does NOT want to deal with pregnant me, that's for sure. Rob convinces me not to, but assures me he'll let him know how mad I am. I told him to make sure he mentions the rediculously large law suite that will be filed if he hurts even one hair on his head today because of cloudy thinking. So it's not the best pic of the culprit because my camera sucks, but you get the idea. Big and thick and black and redish. It seems like the same one that was in my jogging pants a couple weeks ago. I hate spiders. HATE THEM! We live around so many trees it's unavoidable. SO, now I want to move.