It’s a little known fact that I have a leg-limit for the creatures I like. Four legs? I love you! Three legs? Still awesome! (I’m looking at you, adorable three-legged cat who lives in my friend Whitney’s apartment complex!) Two legs? It depends on your personality.

Six legs? You’re on thin ice. Eight legs? Get away from me, you creepy ass arachnid. I don’t even want to TALK about the creatures who have more than eight legs, because as far as I’m concerned they have no business being anywhere near me.

There are a couple exceptions: Butterflies? Love ’em! Dragonflies? Gimme more! Lady bugs? Adorable! Those orange beetles that look like lady bugs but aren’t? Come rest on my finger, little buddy! (The exception to the exceptions are moths. I know they’re kind of like butterflies but I refuse to let them anywhere near me. They have FURRY ANTENNAE, which is something that should never be furry).

But I reserve a special place of fear and hatred in my heart for spiders.

I know that God created spiders and that they eat mosquitoes and all that jazz. I faithfully read (and loved!) Charlotte’s Web as a child. I just always divorced the fact that Charlotte was a character I enjoyed with the fact that she has eight eyes, pinchers, a furry body and eight legs. I think it’s the multiple-eye thing that really creeps me out. And the pincers. To this day I have a hard time watching the Aragog scene in Chamber of Secrets (and Half Blood Prince!) because of the pincers.

Last week I was talking with a friend online when I saw a black spider that was, legs and all, the size of the first digit of my pointer finger walking down my wall. I haven’t seen the spider since and part of me is terrified to move my bookshelves because I’m legitimately worried it has laid eggs in my bedroom.

I don’t consider myself arachnophobic, because a phobia, by definition, is irrational, and as far as I’m concerned, there is nothing irrational about a fear of spiders. The second month I lived in LA my roommates discovered a black widow spider and her egg sac in our garage. A black widow spider. In my living space. (We set it on fire) (well my roommate set it on fire while I stayed in my bedroom and refused to come out until I knew it was dead).

In short, spiders are horrible, often-poisonous little monsters who belong far, far, FAR away from any human being ever.