Much to my dismay I was called into work this past Saturday for PTA day. Basically, the parents of the students come to the school and observe lessons. This is a big deal for the actual faculty. They spend heaps of time pre-paring, writing memos, and stressing out. For me, all it meant was that I had to go to one class, dress somewhat nice (ie not in jeans) and spend the rest of the day quietly at my desk. So on Saturday morning at 6:30 am I found myself showered, hair dried, lunch packed, and headed to my closet to look for my seersucker pants. I'd decided to wear my seersucker pants to work because they're cute, and they're comfortable as hell. If a pair of Carharts and my favorite sweatpants had a baby, that baby would come in the form of my favorite seersucker pants. I call them my "Train Conductor Pants," although I can't really give you a reason why.
So on Saturday morning unsuspecting Erin in her poka-dot underpants opened her closet and about had a heart attach when she saw the critter hanging out on a pair of Joe's Jeans.
Meet Shelob
I assume all giant spiders are female and feast on flesh because I was the type of kid to read Lord of the Rings, instead of Charlotte's Web.
Now, upon seeing The Fellowship of the Ring in theatres my Mom came home and told me that my small stature, pale skin, appetite, lovably dis-shoveled curly hair, and callused feet (seriously, I could probably walk on coals) had her convinced I was a Hobbit. Awesome.
So, just as Frodo found himself face to face with Shelob deep within the Ephel Duath Mountains that border Mordor, I found myself face to face with a beast of its likeness in my closet. Only unlike Frodo who was armed with Sting (the enchanted sword that glows blue when Orcs are near), all I had was tupperware.
Frodo's Sword vs Erin's Tupperware
So, upon encasing Shelob in an impenetrable fortress of cheap plastic, Erin the Brave and most Literary of all Hobbits (that's me!) ran outside, opened the lid, chucked the beast to the other end of the yard, and upon hearing a loud "thud" ran back into the house and slammed the door.
So ends my tale. After teaching one class on "Subject-Verb-Object-Object" and "Subject-Verb-Object-Complementary" sentence structures I spent the rest of my day reading the His Dark Materials trilogy. At 4:00 I hopped in my car and drove into Oita City to have dinner with my friends, after which we used the timer on my camera to take a picture together in front of a Combini- because it's come to my attention that we don't have many group pictures together.
That night I decided that this Christmas I am going to ask for a sword, for the slaying of man devouring spiders, because I'm not much like other girls.
So today was a Monday like any other. I rolled off my futon at 7 am, did a face plant into my tatami, grunted, and magically found myself at work by 7:55. I taught four classes, visited the official "Star Trek" website, bought some jam that my students made (from fruit they grew themselves!), went jogging, and talked to my brother on Skype. Around 7:00 crazy futuristic Japanese time, it occurred to me that I should probably take a shower. So I opened my I-tunes and started singing a long to "Lisztomania" by Phoenix, which is my new favorite song. Check it out! It will put the happy, dancing, toe-tapping mood I was in into context.
Okay, back to the story. As I opened my shower door I noticed a squeaky noise. My first instinct was to look behind me, because in slasher movies girls headed to the shower are too aloof to look behind them. Not to say that I expected to see a squeaky Japanese version of JASON with a chainsaw, but you never know. After checking for deranged serial killers I decided to look up, thinking that a bird was hanging out around the fan outside. Nope, no bird. Then I looked down, and I saw what I can only describe as a mouse-mole-duck billed platypus. Meet Charlton:
Why did I name him Charlton? Well, Charlton is my new old man name. Before I met Winston I assumed that all old British men and bulldogs were named Winston. Now that I'm dating a 27 year old Winston who's guitar skills, motor cycle skills, and good looks have crushed my pre-conceived notions of a proper name for an old guy, I had to come up with a new old man name, and after some consideration I decided on Charlton. Since this little bugger was running into everything, half blind from my camera's flash, and stuck in my bathroom without a clue as to how he arrived, I decided that he was worthy of the name Charlton. That, and it's easier to talk about him behind his back when he has a name.
Now, don't get me wrong I enjoy surprises when they come in the form of concert tickets or pancakes. That being said, it's hard to enjoy any surprise when you're "dressed" for a shower and the surprise happens to be a rodent as opposed to the fore mentioned concert tickets or pancakes. I don't see myself as a squeamish person, but for some reason I was terrified of this little guy. Why do you ask? Well I asked that myself. Now that I've had a shower, a box of Cracker Jack, and I'm wrapped in the safety of a pair of sweats, I have the blessing of retrospect to help me reflect on this little mis-adventure. So I'll make a list, because they're easy to read and I enjoy their organizational qualities.
Top 3 Reasons I was terrified of Charlton (because anymore than 3 reasons dives too far into my inner geek):
1. The "Tribble" Theory
In the original "Star Trek" series the beloved 1960s cast of the Enterprise finds an entrepreneur in their midst with these adorable little things called "Tribbles." The catch was, they multiplied like bacteria in a warm petri dish.
Now, I operate under the assumption that all rodents multiply like Tribbles. So, my first thought upon seeing Charlton was, "Cripes, how many Charltons are crawling around my paper house? Will I wake up and see one crawling across the floor? Will I find one in my cereal?!"
2. R.O.U.S's
Anyone who has ever seen The Princess Bride is familiar with the following conversation with Buttercup and Westley while they're perilously venturing through the dreaded Fire Swamp:
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
Westley: No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
Buttercup: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
Westley: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
Seconds there after Westley is attacked be an R.O.U.S. Now, I realize that Charlton is anything but a R.O.U.S, but still, everything has to start out small when it's a baby, who's to say he won't grow into an R.O.U.S? I've seen spiders bigger than my hand in this house!
3. Gelflings
Gelflings are these little Muppet things from the 1982 movie The Dark Crystal.
Now, the female Gelflings can fly, and upon first seeing Charlton and letting out a loud "eeeek," I couldn't help but notice his resemblence to a Gelfling. I think it's his long nose. Then I started to worry that all his loud squeaks would call his winged mother, who in all likelihood has talons.
So, for everyone's enjoyment, I took a little video footage of the little fellow who shook up my Monday evening.
So, for fear of Tribble like reproduction abilities, R.O.U.S size, and Gelfling mothers with talons, I managed to get Charlton into a tupperware container and get him outside.
Now, I've found my fair share of critters in this paper house. My first evening here I found a green lizard in my kitchen. Bats live in my rafters, and I've killed countless man-sized spiders. I don't want to think about how they get in, as it is I have dreams that my tatami mats have unheard of creatures living beneath their depths, prepared to nab me in my sleep.
this is the "why does everyday feel like camping?" face
this is the "I'm completely baffled" face
So here's me, signing off, wide-eyed and astounded at how ridiculous my life can be AND thankful that I'm updated on my Tetanus shots. Someday I'll triumphantly return to civilization and bequeath this paper house to someone new. Until then, you can bet I'll be making a lot of faces like the ones featured above, courtesy of my MacBook's camera.
