First, thank you to all of you who shared your thoughts on my ex-best friend facebook dilemma. I thought about it for a few days and came to the conclusion that stressing out over it really isn’t worth my time. Obviously the friendship we had when we 16 or 21 or 23 isn’t going to suddenly reemerge. Things aren’t going to go back to the way they were. Sending her a friend request or a message isn’t going to make things all better and ultimately, I’d hate to set myself up for more heartache. What’s done is done and maybe some things are better left in the past.
So – I’m doing nothing. For now. Having the ability to stalk, knowing her life seems to be going just fine, is perfectly priceless. Maybe something will change, maybe curiosity will get the best of me, but for now I’m taking the “if she were meant to be in my life she would be” stance.
Sunday was a weird day. Andrew spotted and pointed out a pirate at a random Exxon station on Broad Street. I kept telling Andrew it was a statue, but no, it was real, moving, living pirate. He was rocking a pirate beard, a blue and white stripped pirate shirt and a big ‘ole red bandanna.
Then, last night, as we’re watching Big Brother 12 in the living room, a fucking bat flies in from the chimney and starts flying around in circles.Â We corralled the dogs in the basement, determined that the bat would just fly out if we opened the front door. Except for then the bat flew up the stairs and started circling in my office.
Andrew put on his bat hunter outfit, complete with leather jacket, scarf, goggles and mismatched gloves pulled hastily from the coat closet. He swatted at the bat with the broom a few times and we opened the upstairs balcony door but the bat refused to go anywhere near an escape route. All the bat wanted to do was roost.
Somewhere in the middle of all this I yelled out, “STOP! I’ve got to get my camera!!” because clearly, when there’s a fucking bat flying around my upstairs terrorizing my husband, the best thing to do is pause everything and run to get my camera. Clearly.
So there we all were, Andrew and I covered in random articles of clothing, yelling at the bat to go outside and the bat totally ignoring us and roosting on our air vent (yes, it is very dirty – I swear to heaven and hell we clean – things have just gotten much furrier since we got our second dog, so STFU) . I’d managed to sneak into my office while the bat was flying around in our upstairs hallway and open both the windows in there but the bat was still refusing to go anywhere that was not directly over our heads.
At this point, I started to feel sad for the bat. I was trying to Cesar Milan it into submission before it hurt it’s little bat self. I was so afraid it was going to have a heart attack and die in mid air and land on one of us and then we’d die from some horrible, probably made-up disease you get from dead bats. And really, if we’d killed it, I never would have forgiven myself because I’m just sort of crazy like that. Andrew says the bat was trespassing, but really, it was probably just trying to get cozy in the chimney when it ended up in our living room chased by two dogs.
Finally, the bat flew back into my office. I shut the door. And then, because bravery and terror make you do stupid things sometimes, I went into the room with the freaked out, slightly spastic, flying around in circles bat. I swatted at it but nothing was happening. I snuck back out, yelled for Andrew, who was on the phone with the police asking for guidance or help or something and told him I was going to do something very brave. He was on the phone though, so he totally ignored me as I yelled and bellowed and giggled.
When Andrew came upstairs I told him, again, that I was going to do a very brave thing. I was going to pick up the bat, and throw it out the damn window. Because I’d had enough of this shit and the bat was sitting, all polite like, on my bookcase, in a perfect position for capture.
I grabbed a hoodie from the closet, threw a jacket over my head to protect my ears and facial features from bat attack, snuck up on a chair, grabbed the bat with the hoodie, and threw the bat and my hoodie out the window.
Meanwhile, Andrew was on the floor, holding the broom up in the air yelling at me to “SHUT THE FUCKING WINDOW! SHUT THE FUCKING WINDOW!!! IT’S GONNA GET BACK IN!! LEAVE THE SWEATER – DROP THE DAMN SWEATER – WE CAN GET THE SWEATER TOMORROW!!”
Andrew would like everyone to know that it was very scary and that he almost got murdered because the bat almost flew and hit him in the head five times. And that he’s now Team Jacob, for sure.