Night of the Living Slugs

It would appear that Halloween is nigh. All the big box stores are breaking their hump trying to be the first horse out of the gate for costumes, candy corn, ghostly window clings, pumpkin trick or treat carriers, faux skeletons, real skeletons (not really but that would be awesome!), nylon spider webs, more candy corn, and neon orange dental floss.

These same stores are also busily regurgitating last year's Thanksgiving place mats, centerpieces, and - wait for it - Christmas cards. In September. Early September, that is. *face palm*

Being obedient little consumers, - we, too, are getting geared up for Halloween around home. By geared up, I mean I bought candy corn. I also ate it. (Whoa, better dial down the festivities a notch).

Thank God I didn't eat too much candy corn this evening. 'Cos if I had've, I would have ralphed when I walked outside this evening (I've GOT to learn to just stay the hell inside. With the door bolted shut. Forever).

No, seriously. You know how when something mind-boggling unexpected (like pregnancy) takes you so shockingly by surprise, that you feel giddy and faint and nauseous all at the same time. And your body doesn't know what to do, so it tries to do it all, but it can't, so you suddenly stand all frozen and kinda seized up, lifeless, like one of those old wooden Indian statues they put outside expensive tobacco stores?

And your face is all gnarly and twisted, with your mouth flopped open like a mail box, while your eyeballs are trying to claw their way out of your skull because they don't want any part of what your brain is seeing?

And there's this one cold bead of sweat slowly dripping from your brow? Centimeter by centimeter? But you can't wipe it away because your hands are dangling useless at your side like a couple dead carp? And your feet won't help. They refuse to *run away* because they take their orders from your eyeballs, which, as we already said, have severed all ties to your brain?

In fact, the only parts of your body still functioning are your intestines and your colon, and they are gurgling and churning and giving serious consideration to ejecting last night's Mexican buffet - which will not help matters in the slightest but that is all they know how to do.

And there YOU are - you, the real you - suddenly praying for all you are worth to have an immediate and lengthy out of body experience. But God has better things to do, plus he probably thinks you're annoying, and whiny - which you are, of course, but this is not the time for an impromptu character analysis.

So there I was. All froze up. In the semi-dark of night. Surrounded by a sea of slugs the size of Volvos.

You only think I am kidding. These babies have been dining on leftover cat food for the better part of the summer. Quite frankly, I also think they're on steroids.

Tonight, there were millions of 'em. On the sidewalk, off the sidewalk, half on AND off the sidewalk, up the house, on the deck, in the grass, across the drive. The stray cat I feed watched silently from a safe distance across the street. He's an old tom, and obviously nobody's fool. Or else he'd decided he wasn't that fool hungry after all.

I dunno.

Incidentally, while it may have been a cool evening and that was the reason, I couldn't help but notice my friends (?) the paper wasps were suspiciously MIA.

No lie, almost. Picture a good 20/100 fat, juicy, slimy, glistening (running out of adjectives here) slugs rolling across your home and yard like it's ladies-drink-free-night or something. I don't think ANY of them were less than 3 inches long. Some were as big as those black, semi-tire sidewall thingies you see blown out next to the highway.

Of course, it was hard to see with my eyeballs way over across the street beside the cat, waiting for the legions of Cthulhu to slither forth and devour my quivering, mortal flesh.

I.Swear.I.Do.Love.Nature.

But can it please do its thing somewhere else for a change? Honest, I live in the corn belt, the great Midwest of the United States. NOT the uncharted jungles of the upper Amazon (or is it lower? never can remember that one).

Uncharted jungles are very cool (for other people) to explore. Can you imagine finding a colossal steppe pyramid, all vine-covered with howler monkeys jumping around like it's a jungle gym, and just bursting with gold? Can't you almost picture what it would be like, slipping some of that *uncharted* gold into your back pocket?

I can.

I can imagine cashing in some of that gold, SO I CAN ASAP MOVE THE HELL AWAY FROM HERE.

...

Meanwhile, the BF will soon have his new home ready to move into. It is five miles OUT in the country. With all the assorted deer, possum, coyotes, bobcats, bats, etc you can think of. It is very rustic and beautiful, and I'm never going out there.

Actually, I'm very excited for him and can't wait to see the finished result. It's beautiful wooded property and I'm hoping he'll provide me with a hazmat suit for Christmas. They probably already have one in red & green at Wal-Mart.

On the plus (?) side, come early winter before the snow falls, it will look like perfect zombie country. All those stark, skeletal trees outlined against the flat gray sky. Sort of a post-apocalyptic Currier & Ives.

Doesn't that sound great, or have I simply lost my mind***?

***Anyone finding my mind, please return to me, well-cushioned in a thick,

protective layer of blank cashier's checks/rare stamps.

Ps. It's only September and I'm already sick of candy corn. Hopefully the

Valentine's chocolates will be out any day now. ;P