Archive for June, 2007

Remember when I said the spider’s name was Larry?  That is so not right.  HER name is Laree.  My bad.  SHE is very pretty.   

Apparently the females are the only ones who spin webs.  Also, the males frequently die in the mating ritual.  Hmm.  That sucks. 

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Spider Update

I emailed my clever friend Josh, who is a professor and expert on all things outdoors about the spider.  Josh was getting his PHD in bugs and forestry, or something like that, when I was in law school.  He has a bunch of degrees in zoology and geology and entomology.  Basically, he knows what he is talking about when it comes to spiders. 

He said that the spider wouldn’t bite me unless I picked it up and aggravated him, and then, even if he did bite me it wouldn’t hurt that bad.  Like a mosquito bite.  He also said that this kind of spider can be really pretty, and that they eat mosquitoes and gnats.  So he is probably a good spider to have around. 

I’ve decided to keep the spider around.  As it turns out, his name is Larry.  He likes it in the back yard.  I went to visit him this morning and his web is quite impressive.  Looks like he’s already taken care of a few mosquitoes that might have tried to chomp on me.  His web is in a good location too, I don’t actually have to walk right there for any reason.   

I would take a picture but I’m pretty sure that it wouldn’t show up right with my little camera.  So you will just have to take my word for it that he is very pretty, and having a good summer. If you happen to be around these parts, and want to see him, let me know and I’ll set up an appointment.  He’d like to make some nice friends in this area.   

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Things I worry about

Then everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn’t no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that’s on its mind and can’t make itself understood, and so can’t rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it was all shriveled up. I didn’t need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn’t no confidence. You do that when you’ve lost a horseshoe that you’ve found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn’t ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you’d killed a spider.

I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn’t know.

Chapter One, Huckelberry Finn, Mark Twain

I loved this book as a child.  And this particular passage scarred me for life.  I HATE killing spiders.  Freaks me out.  Makes me shake.  I’ve come to terms with black cats, friday the 13ths (even when strange island appear), broken mirrors.  Most because I can’t come up with a good reason why those things should freak me out other than that I’ve been taught that they should. 

But spiders serve another more important purpose in my life in the subtropical clime that I live in.  Spiders eat bugs.  I don’t like bugs.  The more spiders, the less bugs.  But I run into a lot of spiders in my back yard.  A lot of bugs actually.  The orkin man came the other day and now I have dead bugs everywhere.  Ew. 

Regardless, this morning I was walking Briscoe and I almost ran slap into a huge spider web.  With a nice sized spider hanging out, spinning the web.  This little spider looked like a crab.  I mean, like a spider that was carrying a crab around on it’s back.  Like a little horseshoe crab.  He was actually pretty cute, although I wouldn’t want him crawling on me.  So I looked it up this morning and I believe it is called a Spinybacked Orbweaver. 

Here are some links to pictures of this strange looking little spider. 

Tell me what y’all think.  What do you do when you kill a spider?

p.s. one time travers killed a spider in his bathroom and million little baby spiders came out of the big spider.  AAAGGGGGHHHHHH.  I would die.  Black out, right there. 

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this is my very first blog ever…so bare, with me….i’m a little nervous….

don’t judge! …mka 🙂

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girl dates

so this might not be charlsie….

BUT…this might just be one of her very best friends. and definitely one of her very best dates. after all, we’re on our number 4…officially.

currently, charlsie is killing mosquitoes with her bare hands. so, i….molly allen, have decided to take over her blog. wow…what a privilege.

so tonight’s topic is…people getting married. we are in st. simons getting ready to celebrate the wedding of ashley and otis. it’s so wonderful. when two people decide that it is right and perfect to get married and spend their lives together. especially two people like otis and ashley. because they are one wedding we all definitely approve.

but, the big question for the blog viewers is…when should charlsie and i have a “DTR”. for those of you who don’t know what that means….welcome to the 21st century. it means to “define the relationship.” let’s say that charlsie and i have basically been going on dates for the past 25 years of our lives. but exclusively, we have been dates for the past 4 weddings/wedding events. does that constitute a conversation??? should one of us taken the reigns and picked up the tab at mullet bay tonight???

ok…yes, i’m just kidding. but you know that it is quite a feat when two friends…who, keep in mind, have been through many different situations in life, can come together and still want to be each other’s dates to weddings…even if boyfriends are in the picture.

THAT, my friends, is a testament to TRUE friendship. so…here’s to charlsie kate paine and molly kathryn allen..and the many years of friendship that are to come and have been…and to all the good friends around. way to go!

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Give it to Me

Let’s say you were at a club, this club could be located in any city, but my imaginary club would be located in Miami. 

And let’s say on this particular day Nelly Furtado and Justin Timberlake both happened to be in Miami, they run into each other at their exclusive hotels, and decide to hit the town together, because they are colleagues and friends.  They of course bring their body guards and entourage so the tabloids wouldn’t have them dating by the end of the weekend.  Nelly and Justin have sushi for dinner and discussed the latest Hollywood gossip, over sake bombs and crazy rolls. 

The convo would go something like this:

N:  So, who do you think Cami is going to take to the Shrek 3 premiere?

J:  Shut up Nelly.

N:  Haha, I think you should hid in the red carpet crowd and when she and her new flavor walk by you can rip your shirt off and start yelling about how you have better abs than that guy and how she is nothing without you.  That would be awesome. 

J:  Oh yeah?  Well, for that, I’m going to challenge you to a dance off.  I’m not going to listen to you disrespect me like this – after all – I’m the one who broke up with the She-Ogre, even if she has been looking extra awesome lately. 

N:  You are on!  I can dance you into the ground any day of the week JT!  Name the place and time!

J:  Right now!  Tonight, here in Miami.  Let’s go to the nearest club and have it out.

So there you are, dancing around with your $15 cosmo, when Nelly and Justin stroll into the club – stop at the bar and buy ten shots of tequila for themselves and the people sitting at the bar, hit the floor and start dancing. 

You see them at the club, and they’re acting real nice.  You see them on the floor, and you’re watching all night.   

Timbaland is going to be so mad he was in New York when this went down. 

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What I’ve Been Reading

Since it is summertime, it is time to talk about books.  I’m going to Puerto Rico with my family tomorrow, and I need to go to the bookstore tonight and get some new books – let me know if you have any suggestions real quick.  In the interest of fairness, I’m going to tell you what I’ve been reading lately.  Don’t laugh at me, I read random books. 


Illusions, by Richard Bach – The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah.  This is a book Todd sent me a long time ago, that kept getting lost in the shuffle of other books.  I really enjoyed it, I’m not even sure exactly how to explain it.  But what I walked away with from this book is that the way we think and perceive the world can either limit our abilities and experiences or can magnify and increase our abilities and experiences.  That reality is fluid and dreams are important.  It isn’t a very long book, and the writing isn’t complex.  But there is something weighty and heavy about it, something that caused me, while reading it, to put it down for a few days and think before picking it back up again.  Bach also wrote Johnathan Livingston Seagull, which I would also recommend.  If you are going to read them both, read Seagull first. 

Ss The Secret Sharer, by Joseph Conrad. 

This isn’t really a book so much as a story.  The book I have also included Heart of Darkness, which is something I always planned on reading and haven’t.  But I really enjoyed the Secret Sharer, it is the story of a young Sea Captain, his first voyage as a captain, and the boat has been at sea for months with the same crew when he takes over.  The Captain rescues a man who has escaped from a passing ship where he has been accused of murder.  It is a story of finding your identity and how strongly empathy can touch you once you see yourself in another person. 

Gt The Grand Tour – by Patricia Wrede and Caroline Steverman.

As it turns out, I like to read children’s novels.  This book is by two authors I used to read as a child – they write books about magicians, and dragons.  This book is about two young socialite girls from england who have just married and are traveling around Europe enjoying high Paris fashion at the turn of the 20th century.  The best way I can describe it is to say it is a Harry Potter crossed with the Davinci Code.  The two girls and their husbands get caught up in a plot involving ancient artifacts from across Europe and a pagan rite to create a ruler to unite all of Europe.  I know it sounds silly, but the history is well researched, and the ruins and places they visit are real.  Seriously, if Harry and his crew were the main characters in the DaVinci code.  I really liked it. 

Md The Midnight Disease – The Drive to Write, Writer’s Block and the Creative Brain  – by Alice Weaver Flaherty

This is a book I borrowed from Ivy.  I haven’t read the whole thing, I don’t have the psych background to really grasp a lot of it, but it is about hypergraphia – which is when you have the uncontrollable desire to write, and essentially the opposite to writer’s block.  The book also talks about writer’s block and a lot about creativity.  I found the definition for creative that the book gives to be interesting, two requirements – it must be novel and valuable.  If you have a novelty that isn’t valuable, it isn’t creative, and if you have something valuable but not novel, it isn’t creative either. 

The book also talks about motivation and your vocation.  One part I liked was the word Workaholic – and how some people assume that workaholics are driven by anxiety and that the workaholic works to relieve the anxiety and not because he enjoys his work or is trying to reach a goal.  But that it is almost impossible if you have a true vocation and your work is part of who you are, to always work for pleasure or for a goal – that terror and anxiety are going to be your motivation from time to time.  There is a lot more in the book – in just this one chapter I’ve been quoting from, about hobbies (which are often just work for fun) that are a release for people, and how paying a writer for his work can sometimes kill his motivation, or make him sloppy.  The book examines the ebb and flow of a writer’s words, seasons, hormones, age, fatigue, depression, illness, alcohol, drugs, music, deadlines, procrastination, etc.  It even talks about how the graduate student is likely to have writer’s block and hypergraphia at the same time – being completely blocked on an important paper while writing heavily in the realms of email and blogging.  Wow.  Sounds familiar. 

Anyway, the book is full of quotes from famous writers, and written by a neurologist who teaches at Harvard Medical school and who seems sincerely interested in the topic.  Most of it is over my head, but I felt like I learned something.  Writing is a mysterious past time. 

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One of my day dreams is that I am famous and part of my job is to be in terrific shape.  I don’t want to be famous, I just want "working out" to be in my job description to a point where I could justify devoting a great deal of time and money to my workout.  For some reason the only job I can come up with that would allow me to do this is being famous.  I don’t want to be required to train for a sporting event.  I want to work out for the sheer purpose of looking great. 

I would own a gym that would have lots of trampolines, round ones, long tumble track ones, bouncy ones, taunt ones.  And they would all be in the floor.  And mats all over the place.  I would also have a big padded floor with a mirror in the middle.  Basically I would have my own gymnastic training center, but it would used exclusively for tumbling, bouncing, and stretching.  We might have some treadmills, but probably not.  Since this is my fantasy, the training facility would be situated next to some wooded trails on rolling hills.  And if I’m really feeling rich in my dream, at least one side of my gym/warehouse would open up like a garage door, revealing said woods, you know, for pretty days in the fall and spring, or even summer depending on where my fantasy is located.  Sometimes is it Georgia, sometimes Colorado.  Sometimes elsewhere. 

Since I’m rich and famous, I would have a couple of people who worked for me, probably part time, but maybe full time.  I would want a tumbling coach, nothing too fancy, I don’t want to do crazy things, but just someone to watch and offer suggestions and help.  Maybe bounce on the trampoline with me. 

Oh, and there would be a sweet stereo system that blasted lots of fun music.  People could bring their iPods. 

I would also have a yoga instructor on staff.  Once again, I don’t need the best in the land, I would be happy with a college student who taught yoga on the side.  My roomie in college, Betsy,  was (is)  an aerobics instructor and she could kick my butt all day long. 

I would want my friends to come work out with me.  I get bored by myself.  It could be lots of fun. 

I would have a poweraid fountain, and lots of luna bars and pria bars and fresh fruits. 

And those big fans.  And shoes would be prohibited, along with cell phones. 

We would do handstands and backflips to our heart’s content. 

It would go something like this –


Tramp Tramp3

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When I walked out of my house yesterday morning I swear I heard someone whistling at me.  You know the whistle, the whooo-wheet- whoow, the whistle of a compliment or a catcall.  I looked around.  There was no one in my yard to have executed such a whistle.  Five seconds later a mocking bird broke into a repetitive song sounding very much like the whistle I had just heard. 

The mockingbird was hitting on me!

The month of June this year is going to be quite full of itself.  There are five weekends in June, which means that you could technically attend five different weddings this month.  I was only invited to four weddings during June, and I’ve already missed the first one, and I will also miss the last one.  But it is possible. 

In addition to being full of weddings, June has two full moons.  This past Friday night was a full moon, and June 30th is a full moon.  I have crazy dreams during full moons.  I don’t recall the moon on Friday night, but on Thursday night when we were at the baseball game the moon was orange and almost full.  I’m always surprised by how much light a full moon provides, and in turn, how pitch black a night can be without a moon.  You would think at 26 years of age I would have come to terms with this natural phenomenon. 

I heard this weekend that the smoke from the forest fires in South Georgia had blown as far north as Macon and turned the moon all crazy colors of red. Which is really scary.  I believe the fires are under control now, but I’m a little worried about all the displaced wildlife.  With the drought and all the lost habitat in the swamp, I think that Loch Laurel could become a popular vacation destination this summer for alligators.   

My yard smells wonderful.  The gardenias and magnolia are blooming.  Gardenias are so pretty and smell amazing outside.  But if you pick more than one of them and bring them inside, the fragrance is overpowering and sickening after a while.  One blossom can make your entire house smell amazing.  I prefer the smell of gardenias when there is a hot breeze blowing around.  It reminds me of happy summer night times of drinking beer and  laughing. 

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