Travel Shaming.

It's the season of holidays, which means it's the season of travelling all over this great state. To Birmingham, to Tuscaloosa, to Auburn, to Wetumpka, and back to Huntsville after each trip. I hate driving, but because boys don't want anything to do with me and I will likely be alone forever, I have to drive on every one of these trips. I just wanna get married so someone else can drive. Is that so wrong?

This is supposed to be a depiction of Alabama, and the places within Alabama  to which I have been/will be travelling to within November and December. It's beautiful, I know.

But I must drive myself, and so I do. And all this driving around makes me think about some of the wonderful trips on which I have been. I like to see things I have never seen before. I like to learn about the things that have happened in those places, and the notable people who have been there. I enjoy experiencing the unique culture of each place. But even though I have been to many, many different places, I have fallen prey to what I like to call Travel Shaming. 

We have all experienced Travel Shaming. Either we have been the Travel Shamed or the Travel Shamers. I have visited approximately 13 states in the United States apart from my home state of Alabama (I am going to state the word state as many times as I can possible state the word state in this sentence). I have been to multiple cities in many of those states, and have visited or lived all over Alabama. I have not been out of the country, which is the biggest source of my travel shame. 

I have been to a variety of camps. I have visited other places for mission work. I have taken many wonderful vacations. I have seen a lot. I have really been blessed in my travels. Which is why travel shaming is so terrible.

I have been the travel shamed. When people post those things online showing where all they have traveled to within the United States, I am always travel shamed. Why? Because people who have only been to 13 states, all in the eastern half of the country, never post those. Only people who have been to at least half of the country post those. Now, I don't think it's because they are trying to rub it in my face, or anyone else's face. They're probably just eager to show that they have been blessed to be able to do and see a lot. 

The reasons people travel are broad, and sometimes complicated. Some have been able to travel for work (which is not always fun), and some have been blessed to travel just for fun. Sometimes, they go for mission work, temporary or long-term. Sometimes these mission trips are really just vacations disguised as mission trips (not the topic of today's post), and sometimes these mission trips are truly to perform real work for the Lord. Regardless of the many reasons people travel, they have been travelling far away and have consequently seen much, much more of the world than I have. 

I am very glad that these people get to travel, and have the means and opportunities to travel. I want people to be able to travel. Travelling can be really good. It is not that people get to travel that makes me feel travel shamed. It is the people who unconsciously brag. Many, but not all, people don't just talk about their adventures and what they saw, and post pictures for other people to enjoy. They don't just relate the details of their trip to people. It becomes travel shaming when they present themselves as better because they travel. They're always restless and never content until they can hop on an airplane again and zoom off to their next destination. It's not about their personal satisfaction at what they've experienced; it's about their personal satisfaction at making sure they are perceived as well-traveled. And that makes me feel travel shamed, because I have only been able to see 13 states all within one country. 

But then, I have also been the travel shamer, which is a sad thing to be once you realize you have been it. You see, many people within this country of plenty don't travel. At all. Travel is expensive. Even though this country is wealthy, and those here living in poverty can receive help more easily than those living in some of the poorest places in this world, that doesn't mean that they have much opportunity for luxury. And travel is a luxury that many, many people cannot afford, even people who are not living in poverty. Think of it this way: I might talk about a weekend trip to Alabama's beach, which I typically get to visit annually, and then find out that the other person in the conversation has never been to the beach. And that they actually haven't been out of town in years. Not because they like to stay close to home. But because gas is expensive, and hotels are expensive, and eating out is expensive, and paying to park your car in public parking is expensive. Leaving town is expensive.

And in that moment, I have travel shamed them. I have flaunted my ability to travel and what I have been able to do in this world as if it were no big thing. I might have "only" been to 13 states, but I have still travel shamed people. I might not can buy a plane ticket to Europe and spend 2 weeks there, but I have still travel shamed people. I might always be ready to forget that I have been blessed in my travels, and be ready to present myself as someone who longs to go to more and different places (and truly I would love to vacation or complete missions in many more places than I have been able to so far). But I hope that I can remember the difference between the blessing of travelling and travel shaming. 

Also, I never fully proofread these things, so sorry if some of the sentences don't make sense. 

Moon Mountain

I've been sick for the past few days. And it really was not very fun. I thought I was experiencing an allergic reaction on Monday, causing me to sneeze and feel congested. But by Monday evening, I figured I was sick. And sick I was. I ended up having to stay home from work on Tuesday and Wednesday with a fever, congestion, and all that fun stuff. And Thursdays are my off day, so I stayed home from work today and finished recovering.

That's supposed to be a tissue. Not just a blob or a booger.

And so for the past few days, I have become a nearly permanent fixture on my couch, watching hours, HOURS, of television shows and movies. I read a little, but that took more energy, so I would soon return to mindless staring at a show. I didn't do anything. I went a whole day without even looking outside. On the first night of being sick, I went to the drugstore and bought a thermometer, soup, children's cold medicine (yes, I still take children's cold medicine), and chocolate. The cashier wished me to feel well soon. I initially wanted to respond with something along the lines of, "how do you even know that this is for me?" But then I remembered that I looked like I was a sleepwalking monster-girl and that she had every reason to assume it was for me.

She also probably thought I was a moron because as I was looking for a basket in which to carry around my merchandise while shopping, I found a stack of them. The first few looked gross. There was a hairball in one. A hairball. So I took off the top few to find a cleaner one, and she walked up to me to make sure everything was alright. And I told her in the most awkward, congested way possible that there was a hairball in one and I had been looking for a clean one, and then pretty much just walked away from the area. I was sick, okay. I didn't care about acting like a functional human being. 

Anyway, I really appreciated her wishing me to feel well. We all get sick. I have been blessed enough to live a comparatively healthy life so far. That could change in an instant, I know. But so far, most of my illnesses have comprised of stuffy noses and fevers that clear after a few days. Headaches that go away. I remember throwing up in class in the 4th grade, right on the carpet, and you could see my breakfast in it. Super gross. And I'm sure my parents remember much more vomiting, runny noses, headaches, and fevers in their little girl as grew. But I see people every day who are younger and older than myself struggling with illness and despair, and I know that my little sickness was nothing compared to that. It does make me appreciate what I have, because I know health can change in a moment.

And today I have felt so much better. I have hardly been congested, have been able to breath through my nose, don't feel dizzy when I stand, and can talk without sounding like a scary villain dude in a movie. So tonight I finally felt well enough to rejoin the rest of the world, and I actually saw people. As I was driving, I saw that the moon was rising, and oh my goodness, I remembered how beautiful the world can be.

I have been so isolated in my little sick world, I truly forgot what it was like outside. What I mean is this: I knew what was outside, but I had forgotten what it was like. I had forgotten that it could be so lovely. God really is an artist.

As I was driving, the moon came into view straight ahead of me. It was still early in the night, and the sky was not fully darkened. The moon was enormous, and it was sitting on the top of the mountain in front of me. Just perched right on top of it. And I know that it was not the biggest moon that has ever been seen, and I know that the mountains here are not the biggest mountains in the world. But to see that big moon just resting on top was mesmerizing. 

I don't have a photograph to post. I was driving. That's just a bad idea.

Moon Mountain tonight (I just gave it that name, believe it or not)

I mean, it was really lovely. And that big moon gave off a lot of light. So much light that I didn't really get to see the meteor shower that is supposed to be going on tonight. But I didn't really look for any shooting stars, because I couldn't think about anything outside except that moon sitting on that mountain. It was saying, "welcome back to the world."

Recalling memories about something that doesn't even apply to me yet.

AHA! I have lured to this blog post, which you didn't know was going to be about weddings! I was spending some time thinking of memories I have of being a kid. And I came across one memory that just makes me laugh, which I will detail below. 

So I think that little kids sometimes just know what's important. I absolutely believe that children need guidance, good role models, teachers, and a fabulous support system. But somewhere deep down, kids just put things into serious perspective. For example: weddings.

I was a kid once. I was totally adorable. I grew up, which is unfortunate. But once upon a time, I was totally adorable. And back then, in my preschool days, I attended a fabulous daycare. I had a bunch of great friends with great imaginations, and we totally understood what life was all about. One of our favorite games to play on the playground was what I like to call "Hey, You Two, Get Married"

So we would all gather around the playground jungle gym, and two people would get married. 

Young Carolyn Kate on her wedding day.

The rest of us were just the guests, and it was quite an event. The playground was the type that had small, smooth pebbles on the ground as some sort of odd, rocky cushion for when a child fell down. Those pebbles were the perfect prop for us, the guests. Because we were spectators, we needed popcorn. And so we would use the bottoms of our shirts as bowls to carry little pebbles in, and would pretend to eat them as the ceremony was performed. After the ceremony was completed, we all celebrated by running around and playing games. 

Basically, back in those good old days, this was all that was needed to get married: two willing people, loved ones to rejoice for them, and a venue. Of course, those marriages were just pretend, and in no way valid or real. But the simplicity and fun of those weddings would be a great thing for our society. 

Now, I am not married. I want to get married, but to the right person. I'm not in a hurry to get married. I'm in my mid-twenties. To some people, that is old. To some people, that is young. To me, it doesn't matter how old I am because I am what I am and I am not what I am not. I'm not planning my future wedding, and I'm not obsessed with wedding things. 

But I do desire to get married one day and I do desire to have a nice wedding. I want a white dress, flowers, and bridesmaids. I want a cake and lovely ceremony. But these days, where weddings on average cost tens of thousands of dollars in the United States, and the ceremony and reception have become about entertaining other people rather than about the commitment between a man and woman and God, those of us who have yet to get married could learn a little bit from those kids on the playground. I have had some friends get married or who are getting married who I do believe have their priorities in a good order, and they have made me really respect them because of that. 

First: two willing people.

How to motivate men to take up running as a form of exercise.

This part, in general, is pretty well adhered to in the United States in a general sense. It is a general rule that people who get married are willing to get married. But I want to take the point even further than that, to the point where the bride and groom are two people who are willing to abide by the vows they made before God. I understand that there are things which happen in life that make this difficult or even impossible, and I have no judgmental thoughts toward those situations. However, it seems as though many people get married without understanding what a vow is, or what the vows they are making mean. As someone who desires a marriage that honors God one day, it makes me sad and even scared to see how lightly marriage is taken by many people. 

Second: loved ones to rejoice for them. Why do weddings always seem to be about impressing those people who aren't entering into a covenant that day? Now, don't get me wrong. I love beautiful ceremonies and exciting receptions as much as anyone else. However, when I watch these wedding shows or see girls I know become stressed about what such and such looks like, or by such and such entertainment for the guests, then it makes me stressed. Why is it such a big deal? Why is it so expensive? Are the guests also getting married that day? No, they are probably not. So the wedding is not about the guests. However, the guests that are there should be people who rejoice for the couple, whether they are actually bored or not. It's a group of witnesses, who love them and encourage them (who also have given them presents, probably). And it is good for them to be entertained (like I said above, we always had popcorn at the playground), but it is not the point of the day.

Third: a venue. So venues have become a big and expensive deal for weddings. Having a beautiful venue for a wedding is understandably important. And because of that, venues are in demand and expensive. And if a person can afford those venues, then I think that is wonderful and I will enjoy their marriage in those venues. However, I know many people cannot afford those venues, and who might feel shamed for their plain wedding, or go into debt to have a more extravagant event. That has got to stop. It's senseless. People who get married are just as married as every other married person, whether their wedding was in a backyard or in a grand ballroom. In fact, God made the most beautiful (and the most affordable) venue in the universe: the great outdoors. You don't even have to decorate it; it is already grand. 

Now, I know I am not married and I might not have a perfect understanding of the wedding process. I hope to one day have a perfect understanding of it as I do hope to get married in the future. And as I said before, I do want a nice wedding. I want it to be fun and I want it to have those very wedding-y qualities. 

However, my grandmother and granddaddy were married many years ago at her family's home. They didn't have much money and couldn't afford anything else. They loved each other and they loved the Lord, and they wanted to get married. But instead of staying apart and saving their hard-earned money for a long time, only to spend their savings on a fancy event to entertain other people, they just got married, She didn't even have a fancy white dress. It didn't make them any less married. And pretty much a million years later, they were married until death parted them. 

A million years, people. Not because they had a wedding. But because they had a marriage.

It's midnight again...

It was close to midnight here, so I decided it was the perfect time to update this blog. That's just the way I am. Of course, I should probably be different since I have work in the morning, but tell that to my brain. Or don't. I can tell you right now that my brain isn't going to listen.

I'm pretty wide awake because I was panicking earlier that I probably ruined my life forever and ever because I spilled water on the laminate floor in the laundry room of my apartment and didn't discover it for about 30 minutes. That is one convoluted sentence. But anyway, I found the water and dried it up, but noticed that the laminate was bubbling. So I did what any normal person would do: assume I had ruined the entire building and called emergency maintenance in case they wanted to come out at 10 pm and save the world. Once I explained the situation (that there was no leak and it was merely water I had spilled) they were pretty much like, "lady, go to sleep."

Except now going to bed is impossible. I am up. I am awake. I had nearly fallen off the edge of the earth and barely escaped. I am not exaggerating at all.

But anyway, that is just exactly why I decided to update y'all on my life. I use y'all exactly as it is intended to be used: you all. Because it always makes me happy to look at the blog's statistics and see that people from all over the world have looked at this. Places I've never been to but would love to visit. Of course, most of the blog's visitors probably accidentally clicked on the link from a search for something else, but I still totally love that. So thanks, y'all.

I have been living in this new city for nearly two months, and it is the most beautiful place I have ever lived. Now, I have only lived in 5 cities, and all are in Alabama. However, Alabama is a very diverse state, which has everything from a coast to mountains. And the latter is precisely my new location.

I have never lived in the mountains. My hometown is fairly hilly, but there aren't mountains there. It's a crater, which is totally cool and nerdy. But now I live in the mountains. There are people who would scoff at Alabama's mountains. They're not as big or grand as some mountains. But they're still mountains. I can tell you that when I drive in the valley to work in the mornings and can see walls of tree-filled earth rising up in front of me, shrouded by mist and early sunlight, it is a big and grand sight. That when I am walking to my car from a restaurant and can look in every direction and see a mountain, it is a big and grand sight. That when I can stand at the top of a mountain and see the tops of houses and valleys full of trees, it is a big and grand sight.

And it is a big and grand idea that God had to create so many beautiful things. I cannot comprehend how many beautiful things there are in this world. I can name some generic things: there are mountains, rivers, oceans, and forests all throughout this world. But the Appalachian mountains are different from the Himalayan mountains. And the Coosa River is different from the Colorado River. And the Atlantic Ocean is different from the Pacific Ocean. And the Redwood forests are different from the Amazon rainforest.

How absolutely amazing an idea. How absolutely artistic and beautiful. And, well, creative. Is not the diversity of this world a testament to God's power, skill, and creativity? It amazes me that every single thing differs on so minute a level that we cannot see it with our naked eyes, but also manifests itself in ways that are so big that we cannot see it all at once. And even with all those differences, everything blends together to function as one world.

How beautiful.

P.S. - My old computer finally decided that after 6 years, it really and truly was not able to function. I have a new computer, so now I don't have to copy and paste "m" while typing. I have never appreciated keyboards so much until now.
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That is great.

Oh no, not another one! And this one is a little all over the place.

So anyways, the last blog from like three months ago was all about stargazing, which was excellent foreshadowing to the next adventure in my life. I was so smart that I didn't even know that I was foreshadowing it (uh, or something like that). But yeah, a lot of stuff has happened between then and now.

On a side note, the "m" key on my computer quit working at some point this summer, so each "m" you carelessly read in this post was painstakingly pasted in with great care and frustration. 

But back to the topic at hand: what I've been up to. Which really doesn't matter all that much, except I feel the need to explain everything that has gone on during my absence (though this really is a stupid blog that is sporadically, at best, updated).

It's been an eventful summer. Early in my last semester of graduate school, I started applying for jobs. I graduated, and moved home to become a full-time job-seeker. Applications were sent out to a minimum of a billion jobs in a billion states, and some of those actually called back for an interview. But every single one of those seemed to be fated in the favor of other candidates. Former interns, internal transfers, and going against huge numbers of other interviewers... for months, I always seemed to have enough fortune to nearly get hired, but to always have something intervene. Which is fine, and is probably similar to the fortune of most other new grads. It just gets discouraging after a while, to feel like you worked so hard in graduate school only to never get hired. 

But then my family went on vacation to Savannah, Georgia in late June. That vacation really marked a change in the trajectory of my summer. Savannah is a beautiful, beautiful place. Driving in that city is terrible, but walking there is wonderful. We got to eat in an old pirate-y tavern, and go into Flannery O'Connor's childhood house. It was great. But on our way back home, we got terrible news. 

Christine, my beautiful grandmother who I love, was very sick. She had been sick for years, but this was even worse. So of course we rushed home, to the see the truth for ourselves and to do what we could. It's impossible in this silly post to honor her to the extent that she deserves to be honored, so I won't write much now on the time that we spent with her in her suffering. 

But from that point forward, things seemed to happen at a rate that had seemed impossible only a few weeks earlier. I interviewed for five jobs in a matter of about seven days. And then, in the span of another week, I got two job offers, both good opportunities with good companies. I accepted one of them. But even then, my happiness was bittersweet, because I did not want to leave my family and Grandmother when I did not know what was going to happen.

It became evident soon, though, what would happen. We knew that very soon, Grandmother was going to be freed from her tired and sick earthly body, and would be able to worship the Lord in new and great ways with that freedom that brought her joy and peace, but brought us grief. She had been placed on hospice, and it was only a matter of time. I was blessed to be able to schedule with my new employer to have a start date that would allow me to stay with and help care for Grandmother during that last little while. 

During that time, I was telling a close friend, a sister in Christ, about how frustrating the summer had been, with searching so hard for a job only to have to leave for one soon after the passing of someone I dearly loved. And then she mentioned that perhaps the Lord had not opened the door until that specific time so that I could be with Grandmother and my family. 

And there it was. It was true. God closed and opened doors. It's such a clear idea, that I feel foolish even now for not realizing it. I took it as coincidence. Perhaps there was coincidence involved, but how much coincidence is there truly in this world? How often do we comfort ourselves with the idea that God opens and closes doors at the right time and according to His will, but we neglect to give Him glory when He actually does open and close doors? How could I be so silly to have thought it was a coincidence, to have been running down a hallway of nothing but locked doors to good jobs, only to find unlocked doors to good jobs on the other side of the events of this summer? 

And finally reaching those unlocked doors, after such a summer, are what led me back to stargazing. Since then, I have moved to Huntsville, arguably one of the most stargazing-est cities in the country. I started my new job today, and I think it will be great. I think God opened the door for this job specifically. I have felt uncomfortable leaving home and moving to a new city after my family heartbreak, couldn't sleep last night, broke my sunglasses this morning, sat through an all-day orientation, and then someone hit my car on the way home from work (I'm okay, and my car mostly is). But when I think about it, I still feel good. Because God works things together for good for those who love Him, and are called according to His purpose. And I know I have been called to His purpose. God has something for me to do, and He is going to reveal it.

Also, I really don't stargaze much at all. But I'm probably in a great place to see that meteor shower now.

Stargazing (but not very well)

So meteor showers are truly awesome. I dare you to argue with that. They're spectacular, and seem dangerous and beautiful at the same time. Dangerous because it's orbiting material hurtling at a terrifying speed, lighting up the sky in its burning wake. Anyone else remember February 15, 2013?

But they're also beautiful. The stars in the great expanse of space that we can see on any given night are absolutely stunning. Though stars look like glistening specks in the sky, stargazing can really make you feel like just a little speck, but in a lovely way. They make you feel like a speck that has been given the privilege to witness the glory of the Lord and the power He expresses in His creation. A speck that can live in and see and experience what billions of other specks have lived in and seen and experienced. A speck that can look up at those stars and know that we have mastered the ability to travel in space, but the Master of the universe has power beyond that, which we cannot achieve.

And then on top of all of that, we get to see that already magnificent night scene perform a cosmic ballet, or jazz routine, or interpretive dance, or whatever you fancy. During these meteor showers, we become mere spectators of a galactic migration.

Let's see how many space words I can use in this post.

So I grew up seeing the occasional shooting star, as everyone does. But I remember the first real meteor shower that I watched. It was when I was in high school, and I was out in the country at a bonfire that my friend was having for his birthday one December. There weren't many of us there, just some of his close pals. And then we noticed that there were shooting stars flying through the sky overhead. It was like magic; we were all mesmerized. All of a sudden our bonfire was forgotten, and we all were just standing there, our heads tilted back, mouths open, only talking to exclaim, "I just saw another one!"

This is essentially the most nerdy and the most awesome I've ever felt at a birthday party.

The next experience I had with a meteor shower was in college. I had caught the meteor shower fever at that completely awesome birthday party, and I wasn't going to rest until I could see another meteor shower. Okay, that's not true; I rested like every single night. But that's neither here nor there, really. 

So one year in college, I stumbled across information telling when the next meteor shower would be. A group of girls that I lived with loaded up in the car and were on a mission: to find somewhere in town that was not lit up bright and that was simultaneously not scary. No easy feat when you're a complete scaredy cat. Also, the sky was just like really bright. So we ended up seeing about one meteor, which was a bummer. But I did get to spend time with some precious friends on a totally awesome adventure. They write about that kind of stuff in sappy novels that get turned into movie adaptations, you know. 

Our view of the lone meteor we saw from the parking lot in which we finally stopped to stargaze.

And over the years, I have been a very poor stargazer. I have either not been aware when a meteor shower has taken place, or it has been too cloudy or bright outside to view the meteor shower when I have actually tried to view a meteor shower. I don't know tons of crazy facts about meteors, and I don't have fancy stargazing equipment. I'm actually probably the worst meteor shower semi-enthusiast to ever exist. 

But recently I have been kind of longing to see another meteor shower. I few times this past year I would look up when the next one would be, but still haven't managed to make one. And then my desire to see another one was confirmed when one night in Tuscaloosa, when I was driving back to my apartment, a bright flash of light zoomed through the sky. It was so quick, but so bright , that I can only assume it was a meteor. That, or aliens. Probably aliens. No? Okay, whatever.

So when I heard that there was going to be a meteor shower on this night, the night spanning between May 23 and May 24, I knew that I had to try and see it. So I stood outside in the driveway of my family's home in the country tonight, straining my eyes for the tiniest flash of a star streaking across the sky. Nothing. It was still too early. My dad came outside for a bit, and looked with me, before going back inside (and kindly making sure the carport light was turned off for me to stargaze with more precision). It was just me and my dog, whose black fur blended into that darkness that the woods radiates at night, and probably some bugs and some bats (but I don't want to think about that part). And I just stood there, with my sweet dog stretched out at my feet while I looked up at the Alabama sky for way too long, even though it was still too early to actually see any meteors.

But let's be serious, a girl can only do that for so long. After a while of that, and seeing nothing but a very, very faint streak of light at one point (which was probably not a real meteor and was probably just the product of my wish to see a meteor), I went inside to prepare for bed. I took a shower and brushed my teeth, took out my contacts, and crawled into bed. I pulled out my laptop and looked up more information about the times that the meteor shower was supposed to peak, and what areas are the best areas for viewing the meteor shower. I started to write on this blog. And then at 1:04 am, I went to the window and opened the blinds, and tried really, really hard to see a shooting star.

I didn't see one. It was still a little early for it. But hey, a girl has got to sleep.

Spiders

Alright, I have had some truly terrifying spider adventures in my current apartment. My apartment complex is wonderful, and I have loved living here for the couple of years I have had a lease. Well, except for the fact that giant monster spiders sometimes find their way into my apartment.

My apartment is not nasty. I keep it clean and pretty well maintained. The apartment complex is a little older, but is nice and has received excellent maintenance. In fact, there is supposedly even a wait list for people to get into this apartment complex. So I'm not really sure where the spiders come from, but every couple of months I will find a giant wolf spider just casually sharing my living space, that are like the size of my palm. I can't figure out if it is because my apartment complex is near the woods and river, or through what space they are entering my apartment. It also does not happen too terribly often. However, it is still a terrible problem to have.

A semi-accurate depiction of the size of a regular spider as compared to the size of the spiders found in my apartment.

I really do not find them often, but when I do find one I panic. I truly don't handle it well. But throughout my experiences, I have learned how to be totally courageous. Brave. Valiant. 

One of the worst experiences I have had with one of these creatures happened late one night. I had arrived home after hanging out with some friends, and in the dim light I had turned on when entering my apartment, I could see a spot on the carpet in my hallway. I went to investigate, and discovered that it was in fact a giant spider. Probably the size of my palm. But no, not just a regular giant spider. A mommy giant wolf spider. 

That's right. She was covered in her own live young. Which meant I couldn't step on her, since then the millions and billions of baby spiders clinging to her body would spread out across my carpet like a tiny sea of terror. I decided to trap her under a bowl, slide a folder under it, and then throw the whole thing outside. Except that when I approached her to trap her, her mommy senses took note of the impending danger, and she tried to escape.

That's right. She was moving. Now the only thing more terrifying than a giant spider that is running is a giant spider that is hopping. And the only thing more terrifying than a hopping giant spider is a giant spider who spills piles of baby spiders on your carpet with each hop it makes.

That's right. Now I have baby spiders all over my hallway carpet, despite my brilliant plan. I slam the bowl on top of mommy spider and commence to handling the new situation. I squish every baby I see moving, which was like a billion of them. And then I pull out the vacuum, and vacuum my apartment for about 45 minutes. After the carpet was as clean as it was on the day in which it was installed, I devised my plan for mommy spider, who somehow still had tons of babies still on her. I couldn't stomp on her, because not only was she a clearly one tough mom, but I also felt guilty about  what happened to all her spider babies. So my plan mostly consisted of taking the plastic bowl in which she was trapped outside to a tree that was not next to my apartment, and throwing the whole bowl against the tree, so that I did not have to be anywhere near her when she was released.

I didn't litter. I ended up picking up the bowl. But I did throw it in the dumpster. I didn't particularly want to use it again. I also called my dad as it was all happening to make sure that I was going to be okay. That's part of a daddy's job. But I mostly think he thought it was hilarious.

My second most terrifying experience happened much more recently. I saw a giant wolf spider in my entry hallway, and quickly stepped on it before he could escape, and I thought it was dead. When I came back a few minutes later to clean it up, its body was gone. I was confused, of course, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. It just wasn't there anymore. 

So I just continued to exist, doing whatever work I had been doing or watching some tv, probably. And then I decided to take a shower and get ready for bed. After I had gotten clean, I hopped out of the shower and what was right there, blocking my exit from the bathroom, but a giant wolf spider. And there I was, trapped in the bathroom, shoe-less, and very nervous. 

See, I was only able to draw two conclusions from my situation: either there were multiple giant wolf spiders in my apartment, or the spider was intelligent enough to pretend to be dead in order to escape and hunt me down later. Both thoughts are really quite terrifying.

The view between me and my hallway. Also, my bathroom is really not that ugly.

So I pretty much dealt with the situation like a superhero, by hurdling over the spider and racing to get a shoe, and then swiftly bringing to an end the potential danger imposed upon me by that spider. 

Really, I feel really bad whenever I have to stomp on one of those spiders. My guilty conscience roars to life, and I wonder if they had little spider families or spider career plans. And I know that spiders like wolf spiders are not bad spiders, and that they are important to have in our ecosystem. But ultimately, I just can't share my living space with a big, hairy spider. I feel like most of you understand.