Mothra and the skirt

So, something genuinely horrible happened to me today. I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it. But I feel that I have to. For closure.

You guys are my friends, right? We can have deep conversations every once in a while, right?

These… these negative feelings… they… they can’t be good for the Red Sox. See, when bad things happen, there are these shadows, these negative feelings that hover there. I know. I saw it in the movie “The Others” with Nicole Kidman and that Irish chick from that Irish movie with Bob Hoskins.

I love Bob Hoskins.

And these feelings, they influence contemporary activities. Like the Red Sox or hotel management (The Shining) or husbandship (The Amityville Horror). You know, I always liked the Omen movies. I went to Gregory Peck’s house this one time in Derry, but he was already dead. I mean, he wasn’t dead in the house. I went there with his wife. She was a yank, ahem, American, so we had ohsomuch in common.

Anywho. I digress. The bad thing. Right. I have to deal with it. Face it head on. I give you my word. I swear on Kevin Youkilis’ beard that what I am about to tell you is the god’s honest truth.

It started when I was trying to walk my dog in my backyard about an hour ago. I have a backyard. It’s enclosed, kind of European, and I can peer into the backyards of all my townhouse neighbors. You know, the townhouse neighbors that are seasonal and don’t actually exist ever.

Anywho, it started with Elliot (the puppy). Her spidy senses got tingly and she discovered and accidentally rescued THIS butterfly-moth-monster from a spiderweb. It was in her mouth and scary and what happens when you’re too busy drinking tea and thinking river thoughts to pay attention to what your puppy is eating.

Poor thing, I think. It’s floppy, see, moving around on the leaves. So obviously, my next thought is to run and get my camera and exploit this moment while it’s still alive.

Take a picture.

Can take better picture. Move closer. Put lens in creature’s face. Flutter. Something happens. It’s like a flash of darkness. Surely that thing can’t fly! But, when I move my head away from the viewfinder, it’s gone. And, as you can see, there’s not many hiding spots in my backyard.

I look in the leaves. I look on the walls. I look everywhere.

And this thing couldn’t fly. Seriously.

Oh god, I think.

It’s on me.

Blink panic.

Why did I have to wear a skirt that looks like a moth?! Sarah bought me this skirt. Does that mean it’s her fault?!

Oh god. I don’t see it! Spend like five minutes going through the layers of my skirt.

Sigh of relief. I must be paranoid, I think. Silly Lauren and her paranoia. Go inside. Pour more tea. Sit back outside. Drink tea. Think happy, positive thoughts. Bring out camera. Think happy thoughts about taking pictures of hummingbirds. Ah, nature, I think

And then.

OH MY GOD IT IS IN MY HAIR.

Camera goes wild.

Oh. My. Goditshuge!

Fling it… leave camera for dead. Leave dog. She can fend for herself.

Go inside. Close door.

Feel bad.

Come in, Ellie! Hurry, baby! For the love of Fisk, hurry!

Dog is truly petrified. Darts inside and hides upstairs.

I peer slowly out my window. No sign of the dragonmoth.

But there is something peculiar on the ground in front of my door. It’s like it left it there for me.

Doesn’t this feel like the ending of a Twilight Zone episode? But it’s not. It is real.

I’m not sure if it left the feather there itself, or if that’s the feather of a dragonmoth victim. Do dragonmoths have feathers?

I’m okay now. I’m taking it slowly. Retrieving the camera. Putting the teacup in the sink. Closing the sugar bowl. You know. Small things. It’s going to be awhile. Hours, even. Before I can drink tea again.

I think… I think talking about it helps. Yes.

You know what else would help? Winning a baseball game.

Thanks for your thoughts during this difficult and stressful time.

~L

OHGOD! It’s been inside my house! OHGOD!