Yes. Daniel got a beach cruiser. 
I tried videotaping our first bike ride together but it didn’t come out. The camera was zoomed in and kept bouncing around, believe me you don’t want to see it.
So Nathaniel tried out the bike and we went out at sundown. I wanted to see how the camera would do at twilight—came out pretty cool, I think:
Soundtrack: Ladyhawk - “I Don’t Always Know What You’re Saying”
That’s Daniel waving at the beginning. And me waving at the end.
Daniel and I were riding in his truck to run some errands the other evening. He only has a radio in the truck and listens to some goofy radio stations. Stuff you wouldn’t expect a thrash metal fan to enjoy.
He started singing along with a song and I just had to laugh at him.
Daniel: “What! I love this song!”
It was “I’m Every Woman.”
I was babbling to him about work stuff and he started to reply, but then his attention was caught by something and he trailed off mid-sentence. I kept asking him what he was going to say. He kept staring out my side window intently. I looked outside on the sidewalk, trying to see what he was staring at. He pulled over into a bus lane, eyes still intent on something out my window, his hand fumbling around on the seat for something.
And then I saw it. A BIG spider on the sideview mirror of my door, crawling towards my OPEN WINDOW. I had my seat belt off in a flash and was trying to crawl over Daniel, away from my window, while he was trying to crawl over me to get at the spider. He grabbed his sweatshirt from the seat and next thing I knew, the sweatshirt and the spider were both gone. I thought for a minute he’d just tossed his sweatshirt on the ground outside but he said he smashed the spider—it was gone—and threw his hoodie into the back of the truck.
I have a deep-seated fear of spiders. It’s never far from my consciousness. I’m always aware of the potential for spiders lurking somewhere. When I ride my bike in between narrow spots, like between a brick wall and a pole, I’m not scared of hitting the wall—which I’ve done—or hitting the pole. I’m scared of there being a spider web between them that I might ride my bike through. Riding next to bushes or under low-hanging branches always has me thinking about the potential for spiders being on them. I never step into the shower without checking for spiders. I hate it when Daniel wants to leave the front door open to keep the apartment cool. Spiders will get in.
Etc.
The spider on the truck was pretty traumatizing. I tried to laugh it off and not let Daniel know how upset I was by it. I commended him on how he handled it—he did what he could to keep me from noticing it. He didn’t take his eyes off it, so he wouldn’t lose sight of it (I’d have had serious trouble if it just disappeared and we didn’t know where it went). But by the time we’d run into Home Depot and got back into the truck, he knew I was still upset. And I was. I was nervous, jumpy, and to be completely honest, I wanted to cry.
He asked if I was OK. And I had to admit to myself and to him why I was so upset:
I didn’t think California had spiders that big.
In Washington, spiders get huge. I mean, HUGE. I’ve seen spiders almost as big as my palm. (To write that I had to imagine a spider on my palm. Never do that to me again.) When the kids were small we lived in a house that had sooooooo many spiders. And if one appeared and Daniel wasn’t there to kill it, I’d pack up two preschoolers and a baby and leave. We’d usually go next door to my parents’ house. Sometimes my brother was home and he’d kill the spider for me.
Once my brother was over and a big spider came running out from under the couch, which we were sitting on. It ran straight at Nathaniel, who was about 4 years old. I screamed, “RUN, Nathaniel, RUN!” I meant for him to run away from the spider. Instead, he ran straight towards it, which also was straight towards me, and jumped up on the couch.
I wondered if I was scarring him for life, but Nathaniel eventually became my chief spider-killer. And he still is.
I have actually had my worst fears come true: I once had a spider on my face. And I once was faced with the sight of a giant spider crawling towards my poor, helpless, naked baby. (I don’t mean Nathaniel, although that certainly counts too.)
When I was young, probably 8 or 9 years old, I was playing in our garden and managed to walk through a spider web. This freaked me out, but not as much as seeing something dark and blurry on my cheek. Yes, I became hysterical, jumping around, madly brushing my hands all over me, until I was sure it could not possibly be anywhere on me. (You try brushing your back completely off with your hands. It’s not easy.)
And once when Elijah was a baby, I was sitting on the living room floor with him, changing his diaper. I went to reach over for the baby wipes and there it was—a big one. Like, it could be measured in inches. Crawling straight towards my baby’s naked bottom. I did what any mother would do—screamed as loud and as long as I could while grabbing the nearest shoe and smashing it, again and again.
It disturbs me to think of either of those episodes. I only record them here for my posterity’s sake. I want my descendants to know what kind of stuff their ancestors were made of.
So you see, since moving to California, I’ve only ever seen pretty small spiders. Like never one as big as a quarter. Never. Now, tiny spiders I can handle myself, IF I HAVE TO. In fact I killed one just the other day in my Sunday School class. I had a room full of ten 11 year old girls. Someone had to man up.
Spiders smaller than a dime. That’s about my limit. (If it had been bigger, and none of the girls were willing to smash it, I’d have taken us all outside for the rest of the lesson, or found someone else who could kill it for us.)
I think the biggest spiders I’ve seen in California are about nickel-sized. Maybe a little bigger. But definitely not quarter sized. In Seattle, you’d get silver dollar-sized spiders.
I thought all California spiders were small, until the other night in the truck. That spider was still small by Washington standards, but huge compared to anything I’ve seen in California so far. I’ve lived here four years. I honestly had convinced myself spiders didn’t get that big here.
When I told that to Daniel, he joked, “Well maybe the spider came with the truck from Minnesota.” We bought the truck from someone in the military who is stationed here but lives in MN.
I told him for the last ten minutes I’d been trying to convince myself that the spider came from Pismo Beach. Daniel was out there last weekend with the truck, camping and dirt biking. Pismo Beach is five hours away. It could have crawled onto the truck there, right? And just stayed holed up for days, maybe a week, until it’s daring nighttime side-view mirror escapade?
So then we’re driving to Target, and the wondering sets in. Where did that spider come from? Was it on the mirror when I’d adjusted it when we first got in the truck—with my bare hand? Had it been inside the truck and then crawled outside onto the mirror? Had it been lurking under the door handle and I almost touched it when I got in? It was so hard to open the truck door after thinking about that.
I was about to ask Daniel where it was when he first spotted it. Had it been on the ceiling of the truck and lowered down by a web? I started imagining all kinds of scenarios, none of them good. None of them could be. But I knew better than to ask Daniel for any details. He knows I’d just be torturing myself by asking. He’d refuse to tell me anything if I asked. He knows that while I have this compulsive need to ask for more details, hearing them will just make it worse for me. So I didn’t even bother asking him.
I was jumpy the rest of our truck ride. It was dark. The truck is full of places spiders could be lurking. It was horrible.
Sometimes I think about how silly my fear is. A spider is just a small thing. It’s not going to hurt me. Even if I get bitten by one, it won’t be that much worse than a mosquito bite. I’m not scared of them hurting me, though. I’m just scared of them. The idea of one touching me is sooooo unthinkable. If I have to step on a small one to kill it, I’m aware of that spot on the bottom of my shoe for awhile afterwards. A spider touched that spot. I feel like there’s a trace of it lingering. I’m aware of that spot on my foot.
I start thinking, what if I could go to a shrink and have this phobia fixed? And not be afraid of spiders anymore? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?
I mean, there’s something I didn’t want to think about, and tried to shy away from, but of course I couldn’t. What if I’d been alone in the truck when that spider appeared? What would I have done? I think I would have pulled over and parked as quickly as possible, and walked home. If I’d been too far away to walk, I probably would’ve enlisted some stranger’s help in getting it off the truck. And then been petrified the whole drive home that another spider was going to drop down on a web right in front of my face.
You can laugh, but I’ve had it happen before. While driving. Fortunately it was a tiny spider and Nathaniel was sitting next to me and grabbed it.
So if I could have my phobia fixed, would I? I just can’t imagine living in a world where I could tolerate spiders. I honestly can’t. I hate them so much. They are so horrible to me that I can’t comprehend them ever being something I could be OK with. It just doesn’t compute.
I mentioned this to Daniel and he said spiders are a common fear. And that’s true. People can definitely commiserate with me. Daniel has a rather weird phobia. It’s pretty silly and he’d be embarrassed if I posted on my blog about it, so I won’t say what it is. He brought it up, though, to make his point—at least I’m not alone in my irrational fears.
I had to tease him a bit about his phobia by quoting Arrested Development: “There are dozens of us! DOZENS!”
(And no, he’s not a never-nude.)
Out of all the silliness of my behavior in the truck that night, only one thing I said made him look at me like I was an idiot:
“I am so blogging about this.”
Yet he was the one who started singing the words to “Sister Christian” when it came on the radio before the singing in the song had even started.
And when I said, “You know this song is about a real girl?” he’s the one who answered, “Yeah, she lives in Oregon…”
Elijah and I were waiting in the car for Cat, and I had my sunglasses on, my head turned in his direction. He put his hand on top of my head and forced me to turn away from him.
“I hate it when people wear sunglasses,” he said. “I can’t tell what emotions they’re feeling.”
That made me smile.
“OK,” he said, “You’re feeling happy.”
I asked, “Do I ever feel any other emotions?” I’m a pretty even-keeled kind of person.
He said Yes. There’s:
I was surprised he didn’t mention my “Do your homework!” emotion, my “I love this song” emotion, and my “What should I make for dinner?” emotion.
But believe me, they’re all there, safely concealed behind my sunglasses.
Is PJ Harvey.
Things I once thought
Unbelievable
In my life
Have all taken place
–
Baby, baby ain’t it true
I’m immortal when I’m with you
But I want a pistol in my hand
–
I walk on concrete
I walk on sand
But I can’t find
A safe place to stand
–
Just give me something I can believe
–
The whores hustle and the hustlers whore
Too many people are out of love
–
How did we get here, to this point of living?
–
One in the morning
When you said something
That I’ve never forgotten
When you said something
That was really important
–
One tooth for one eye
He’s come to find me
–
I can’t believe life’s so complex
When I just wanna sit here and watch you undress
–
I can’t believe that the axis turns on suffering
While my head, it burns
–
We wanted success
Until nothing was enough
Until my middle name was excess
–
This is kind of about you
This is kind of about me
–
But one day we’ll float
Take life as it comes
1. My Coca-Cola soda glasses. I got them really cheap at Blockbuster, of all places.
2. This photo:
3. This video of Nick Cave recording a Birthday Party song. Wait a bit until it shows him just doing the vocals w/no music:
The guy’s intense.
4. Tootsie Rolls.
I did not wish to take a cabin passage, but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world, for there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not wish to go below now.
How about you?
I have, but only once or twice. The one dream I can remember having a lot of music in was one where my older brother and I went to see this band play. It was like back in the 60s, and everything was in black and white at first, like if you’d seen it on an old tv show.
The band was playing in a park. There were a few singers, sort of dressed like choir singers. Only they were all Satanists and were singing songs about evil things. The music didn’t sound evil, but I can’t really remember exactly what it sounded like. Probably 60s pop music.
I do remember the singer wanted to kill me. Like, really wanted to kill me. A recurring theme in my dreams—someone wanting to kill me.
And here’s today’s bike ride, this time featuring both Nathaniel and his friend Dillon on their way to Sam Ash (a guitar store). Dillon’s on the skateboard.
Soundtrack: Built to Spill - “Goin’ Against Your Mind”
Extra points if you can guess what band tshirt Dillon is wearing. Psychic points if you can guess what band tshirt Nathaniel is wearing.
Or recently?
I’ve been on a bit of a Midlake binge, mostly in the car. At home it’s been the Bad Brains or other vinyl I’ve ripped recently.
Here’s today’s bike ride, with Nathaniel:
Soundtrack: Midlake - “It Covers the Hillsides”
It starts in Central Park and, um, ends in Central Park. (Huntington Beach’s Central Park, I mean, not NYC’s.)
And here’s some Bad Brains brilliance:
“House of Suffering”
Oh where can Jah love be found?
My dear, it’s here in the underground
Inside the hearts of your own children
In this house of suffering
Daniel, to Elijah: That’s cool. You can have friends that like different types of metal.
Elijah: DJ doesn’t like Opeth.
Daniel: OK, you can’t be friends with DJ anymore.
When I say, “me,” I mean my brain
And when I say, “Give me the cure,” I mean to kill the pain
And when I say, “Kill the pain,” I mean to get the devil out
And when I say, “Devil,” I mean all manifestation of doubt
– Ted Leo
It’s amazing how much better I feel after I ride my bike. Even on days when I’m totally worn out from working on the computer all day. Or horribly hormonally depressed from PMS. If I can get out for 30-60 minutes on my bike, everything’s good.
I think maybe the days when I ride and work up a bit of a sweat are the best days, though. I mentioned this to Daniel and he said, “Oh yeah, you’ve gotta sweat. It gets the demons out.”
I ride really lazily. If I work up a sweat, it’s not because I’m riding really hard. It’s because it’s hot out. That’s what’s nice about a beach cruiser—you just cruise.
I have to laugh every time some really old person passes me on their bike, though.
One thing that surprised me about my bike rides is how completely empty my brain seems. I mean, if I were to go for a walk, I’d be thinking and pondering all kinds of things. I guess riding a bike takes too much of my attention (maneuvering around stuff, looking out for cars that might kill me), because my thoughts during a bike ride are completely scattered. Often I find myself with just a lyric from a song I’d been listening to running through my brain over and over.
One day it’s Sam Cooke, “You Were Made For Me.”
The next day, Ted Leo.
Anyway, here are a couple videos from my bike ride today with Nathaniel. I purposely waited till late in the day to film so we’d have long shadows. The first is of us starting at a small park near the kids’ high school and going down McFadden St:
Soundtrack: Admantium “Electric Chill”
In the second, I turned the camera towards the street, so you could see my shadow as I rode. It came out kinda cool:
Soundtrack: RJD2 - “Ghostwriter”
Dang, the youtube compression looks horrible!
I love this song by Current Pop Sensation Chris Brown:
(Here’s the actual music video–unable to embed it.)
My favorite line is just after the 1:50 mark, when he says, “Look what I can do with my feet!”
It reminds me of my sister Jenny who died. She was schizophrenic and would often say the craziest things. Once she called my dad up at 10pm to tell him she’d learned how to tap dance. She put the phone on the floor so he could hear her dance.
She was wearing socks.
I love syrupy pop. I wasn’t sure when David Archuleta was on American Idol if I’d actually like anything he released after the show. So far he’s only released one single, but I love it. It’s such cheesy, teenyboppery music (and I swear it had to originally have been written for a girl to sing), but I just love his voice so much I don’t care.
Edit: The official video won’t embed, so above is a fan video for it. Here’s the official video.
Haha, I hadn’t actually seen the video until now. It’s almost like a church movie. (He’s Mormon.)
The other day Elijah said he couldn’t imagine me and his dad as grandparents. I asked why, is it because we’re just like big teenagers, ourselves? Nathaniel said something about me still going to metal shows when I’m a granny.
I just caught a minute of some countdown show Nathaniel was watching, 100 funniest movies, or something. Whoever was commenting said all you care about when you’re a teenager is music, TV, and videogames.
That’s all I care about too. Did you know the new Rock Band came out this week?