9:42pm: COUNT: 9
9: I have been lax in updating this for no good reason other than that I seem to always be on my way somewhere when I kill a damn spider. Therefore, my memory of these kills is somewhat less than perfect, but at least two of them were large, hideous, and speedy, and were suitably dispatched with the Sorry Stick from their spots on the walls and ceiling of my bedroom. The rest of them were tiny spiders that I caught literally dangling from threads off of things in my kitchen. Then ... they weren't dangling anymore. And that's all I need to say about those. Rest assured that the remainder of the year's updates will be made assiduously.
12:32am: COUNT: 5
5: Another huge, monstrous one. It was on the venetian blinds on my bedroom window, which posed a problem. I tried drawing the blinds up rapidly, hoping to crush it, but that didn't work. The motion did force it to crawl onto the direct bottom of said blinds, which afforded me the opportunity to simply smash it with the Sorry Stick (rather than rely on what I perceived to be an unreliable rate of descent on the part of the blinds). Its curled-up body was subsequently delivered into the toilet and given a summary burial at sea. No ceremony was performed.
4: Enormous and terrible, splayed out to a quarter's diameter on my bedroom wall. Wasted no time with the Sorry Stick. Its mangled remains are somewhere in my garbage can. I make no apologies.
12:16am: COUNT: 3
3: The wrong kind of compact and combat-ready, trying to look unobtrusive next to the sole picture frame on the east wall of my bedroom. Smashed it with the edge of the Sorry Stick and entombed its remains in tissues that went right into the conveniently-located garbage can. No mercy. There will never be mercy.
1:07am: COUNT: 2
2: On the ceiling of my bedroom just now, a quarter's diameter, wicked-looking and spindly. It's past 1a, so I had to kill it quietly by sort of slide-smashing it with the end of the Sorry Stick. It did the job. Its curled-up remains now rest at the bottom of my trashcan, which has a lid on it. This is the only spider allowed for February, everyone. I have spoken.
1:20pm: COUNT: 1
I don't know what it is about spiders and my bathroom lately. This one was on the wall behind my towel, which I of course discovered after taking the towel off the rack to dry myself after a shower. Clever move, spider. Clever move.
I countered by wadding it in some toilet paper and flushing it .7 seconds later. Check and mate.
Starting the year off with one for the month of January; let's see if nature decides to keep it to one per month?
11:00pm: COUNT: 16
16: I saw this one on the floor of the bathroom just before offloading some liquid cargo. This was the ideal time to spot it, because otherwise I'd've been rooted in place for I-don't-know-how-long while I finished my business, which would've been potentially disastrous. As it was, I was able to smash it in some toilet paper and deposit it in the bowl before giving it a burial at sea. It was about a nickel's diameter and halfway between scarily compact and spindly-looking; considering the previous spider, I wasn't in a take-chances mood. When am I ever?
9:37pm: COUNT: 15
15: I want to make it clear right away that this was the most enormous, terrifying spider I have ever seen in all my years keeping this log and living at this house. I walked out the door in the morning and when I went to pull the door shut behind me, it was crawling along the bottom of the door frame, as though trying to get in. It was huge, brown, and had a definite dark mark on its back.
There was no time to go for a weapon; I smashed it with my foot. I cleaned it up with a couple of double-folded napkins and left it in one of the trashcans outside (tomorrow's garbage day). I think I deserve a commendation of some sort; if only there were an anti-spider military I could join.
11:55am: COUNT: 14
13: In the shower a few days ago, not very large, but patient. Waiting. Washed it down the drain with the detachable shower head.
14: Either hanging out just above my fridge door or somehow inside the fridge itself, neither of which are attractive options. Total span at least an inch and a half, mostly legs (awful, spindly legs). Crushed in napkins and entrashed.
There's at least one spider hanging out on the front porch that keeps making webs. I have decided to take no action against it other than to sweep down the webs that appear in the corner nearest my usual walking path; other corners have remained unmolested. This is my version of truce, spiders. Respect it or be destroyed.
1:39am: COUNT: 12
12: On the wall of my bedroom just now, about a dime's diameter. This late at night, I'm ready for bed and not in the mood to fuck around; I grabbed some tissues and made an end of it so swift that I'm not sure it even knows it's dead. This is what it is to be me.
11:32pm: COUNT: 11
That's right: two in one god damn night. They both looked like brown recluses to me, but let's face it: everything looks like a brown recluse to me. I justify my arachnicidal paranoia in that, well, if you look up the Wikipedia page on necrosis, you can see a picture of the result of their bite. I know that guy. His experience was unfun. I simply refuse to take chances.
10: Near the ceiling of the kitchen. Smashed with the Sorry Stick and wadded its remains into a napkin that went into the garbage.
11: This one was in the fucking toilet bowl. That's essentially the nightmare location: anywhere on the toilet. I trust I need not elaborate why. This one was propelled into the water using a method, and then flushed.
I am sorry, spiders, if you were not actually brown recluses. Just take your activities outside my house, and we'll be all good.
12:34am: COUNT: 9
9: In the bathtub, just now, as I was brushing my teeth. I saw it. It was big, like maybe a quarter's diameter (legs included), and moving too fast for comfort. I turned the water on and washed it down the drain with the shower head. There's no way I was gonna have that thing surprise me in the morning.
8:55am: COUNT: 8
8: In the bathroom, in the god damn cloth box/drawer thing where I keep all my stuff. Right in there! With the deodorant and the toothpaste and such! It crawled up the side of the box as I was gathering toilet paper, and that's where it met its white-tissued end. Its crushed and mangled remains are even now on their way to a sewage processing plant somewhere, maybe the one down by the ocean. You do not surprise a man this early in the morning. You just don't.
11:45pm: COUNT: 7
7: Just now, in the bathroom. I was brushing my teeth when I saw a spider descend into the bathtub from the ceiling, suspended by an invisible thread. I tossed my cup of water at it, landing it in the tub, and turned on the bathtub shower to spray it into the drain. There was no choice in the matter; it was large and spindly and shudder-inducing. Spiders and I will get along fine as long as they stay out of my house and I never have to see them. That's the deal, spiders! That's the deal.
11:55am: COUNT: 6
5 & 6: I've been remiss in remembering to update this, but oddly, these two were both in the same area of the house and looked more or less alike: a compact, black-widow-lookin' thing on the wall of the stairwell. Each were crushed in tissues and flushed. I know I did this. No one can tell me it's the same damn spider coming back for revenge.
12:26pm: COUNT: 4
4: On the wall of the bathroom, about a nickel's diameter, moving quickly. It looked like a brown recluse to me, but I wasn't about to go in closer for a detailed examination. The Sorry Stick is just inside the door to my bedroom; you can draw your own conclusions as to what happened next. I had a dream this morning in which a spider woke me up, so there you go, I guess.
12:06am: COUNT: 3
3: In the hallway right by the door, enormous and spindly and just plain bad news. Smashed it with the shoe I conveniently had in my hand and wiped up the remains with a paper towel. It did not stand a chance when I was already properly armed.
8:44am: COUNT: 2
2: This kill should have a name, something like The Battle of Jon's Shower. I spotted it crawling on the wall of the shower, about a dime's diameter, and tried to wash it off. It ended up on -- or more like in -- one of the loofahs we have hanging around. Horror. A combination of directed spray and the bottom of a shampoo bottle were employed to extract it; this took a long time. The rush of victory when at last I flushed it down into its watery grave was palpable. I am a hunter and no jungle is safe from me.
1: On the wall of my bedroom, not a very particularly threatening size, but you know what it means for a spider when it's inside my room. With a tissue it was unmade as thoroughly as if it had been erased from the timestream.
So it looks like I ended 2009 at 20, which is sort of high, but not as high as 2006 (27). Let's see what 2010 brings, people. I hope it's good to you, too.
11:59pm: COUNT: 20
20: On the wall of my bedroom, of course, a little less than a dime's diameter across. Tissues were employed to end its existence in a swift and efficient manner. I'm kind of surprised it's been this long since a spider encounter; what are they up to. What.
12:12am: COUNT: 19
19: At this point I'll be glad if I can see October gone without the count rising any god damn more. This one was in the bathtub, and even though it was basically bedtime and I could have let it go, I didn't want it surprising me in the shower the next morning, so I washed it down the drain. I am a bloodthirsty man; this is just the way of things now.
1:30pm: COUNT: 18
18: Another nasty-looking one on the ceiling of the living room, of all places. This is not a place that makes hiding possible; I had time to get the Sorry Stick and some tissues before doing that which needed to be done.
I have to point out that I have now reached the same count as 2008, but it's only October. What is this. What is going on. If I have another year like 2006, something is going to happen.
11:41pm: COUNT: 17
17: What in the good god damn fuck is up with large spiders being all up in my bedroom. That is not cool. Luckily, it's where I keep the Sorry Stick, too. You can guess what I just did.
12:29am: COUNT: 16
16: Another one on the wall of my god damn bedroom. This one was much smaller, less than a dime's diameter, and a curiously vivid red-brown. I'm sure that's not the color it ended up when I smashed it with a napkin and threw it into my trashcan, though. I am not sorry; there's no way I'm going to let a spider live in the room where I sleep.
7:40am: COUNT: 15
15: Holy mother of fuck; this one was at least an inch across, thick-built and nasty, crawling around on my bedroom wall JUST NOW. I hope I didn't wake the housemate in the room next door when I destroyed it with the Sorry Stick.