We live on a lake. This probably seems awesome to you, unless you too live on a lake. In which case you will know that along with the pretty sunsets and awesome picnic opportunities everyone visualises when they hear the words "live on a lake" come mildew, goose shit, and tons of bugs and spiders.
Our spiders happen to be of the 3/4-inch long, furry, hopping variety. I generally encounter three to five of them a day in my bedroom and resolve the situation by trapping them under glasses and taking them out to our backyard.
Unless they happen to drop out of the sky onto my head, in which case I run screaming out into the kitchen crying for ma mere like
Having taken care of that spider after a satisfying mutual freakout, I assumed I'd fulfilled my spider-human-contact quota for the month.
Oh, how naive I was.
This evening I was gtalking with an individual whom we will refer to only as "PhD" when a second spider dropped out of the sky and landed on my eyelid before attempting to escape by running down my face and under my shirt. As you may imagine, this resulted in my ripping off my headset and mic and shrieking as though I were being terminated with extreme prejudice. (Fun fact: scream loud enough and gtalk will drop the call.)
When I got back on the phone several moments later, PhD was understandably concerned.
(What happened?), quoth he. To which I replied,
큰 거미가 위에서 나와서 내 얼굴에 서 있었어!
(lit. "A big spider came out of above and stood on my face!")
PhD: 어, 큰 거미가 드러났어 얼굴에 붙었어?
(Oh, you mean a big spider appeared and got on your face?)
Moi: 네, 갑자기 드러났어 얼굴에 붙었어. 너무 무서웠어!
Yeah, it appeared all of a sudden and got on my face. It was really scary!)
So hurrah! for my ability to actually convey a completely random-ass set of circumstances in passable Korean under extreme mental duress. And while we're at it, hurray for fear-directed learning. I think I'm gonna have those verbs down from here on out.
That will be all.