To quote my friend Sandar (who's name has been changed to protect the guilty) "why does your life have to be filled with drama ALL THE TIME? Can't you just have a quiet day?"
I used to think that it was my friends who had the drama, I just happened to be there when all the shit hit the fan...now, I'm starting to think that perhaps it really, truly is me.
In that spirit, I would like to first apologize to all of my friends for the drama that apparently (through NO desire of my own) follows me around like Pigpen's cloud.
And also in that spirit, have I got a story for you.
Now for those of you reading this and who are not aware: i'm (self-diagnosed, of course) ophiodiophobic (fear of snakes, in case you didn't know/didn't want to look that up on encarta.com)....we're not talking a slight fear or the overall desire to not be around snakes. We're talking stay-up-for-nearly-three-days-because-I-was-sure-there-was-a-snake-in-my-apartment fear of snakes.
Also, I have been living in New York City 1 year, 10 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days and I have NEVER seen a snake. Granted, I do live in Staten Island, but I spend a great deal of time walking around parks and nothing. zip, zilch, nada.
So I'm emptying my coffee filter (SURELY, you didn't think this as going to be a short story...) and spilled some grinds by the trash can. Typical graceful me...can't even hit the trash can. So I'm sweeping up the grind and I notice what I believe to be a black hair band. I reach down to pick it up, when it suddenly MOVED!
BREATHE in with the good air and out with the bad-BREATHE in with the good air and out with the bad-BREATHE in with the good air and out with the bad....because OF COURSE my first thought is SNAKE!
But it's New York City, well, Staten Island--but it's a borough of NYC and has a population of 1 million people, so it's not like being back at the ranch where Granny is the closest neighbor 2 miles away!--so I talk myself into believing that it's an earthworm, a really big, fat, juicy earthworm. I mean, afterall, it's been raining a lot...perhaps it wanted somewhere dry to nap for a bit.
As I am talking myself into this, I have formulated a plan: scoop said earthworm onto dustpan and fling it outside.
Easy, right? Well, after I sweep said earthworm onto the dustpan, it pokes it's pointy little snake head up at me with a "what the fuck are you doing, lady, I'm trying to take a nap?!?!?" I should point out that it was a tiny little snake--only about 12 inches long and the width of a thick pony tail holder, but STILL a snake.
Rather than flinging it outside, it starts to crawl off the dustpan, which is still in my hand. At this point, I scream (like a 5 year old girl) and fling the snake--no, not outside--but..in...to...the...air....
It hits the wall, slides down, and promptly disappears down a hole in my floorboard by the trashcan.
REALLY? REALLY? IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING TO ME????
Oi. only I could move to a city of 8+million people and find a snake in my house.
Of course, landlord is out of town. But not to worry (in case you were), I finally found a use for all those textbooks I kept because I was very sure I needed them...keeping the Sagebiel-Cecil family safe(r).
My biggest fear is that I have this huge den o' snakes under my house....bleh...the thought is truly nauseating, but i'm trying not to think about it too much....but am keeping my shoes on, just in case.
It was a ringneck snake (with an orange stripe) in case you were wondering, which I'm sure you weren't....but I gotta share with SOMEONE!
Meanwhile, my hope is that I traumatized the snake just enough to cross off Jersey Street as one of the top 1,000 places snakes should see before they die.
A girl can dream...a girl can dream...