It was just over a year ago that I e-mailed Liss asking if she'd be interested in me writing a sports-related post on the weekends for her. I was very pleasantly surprised when she answered back that not only could I do that if I wanted, but I could write whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. After all, Shakespeare's Sister was preparing to make a big change and become Shakesville, the site you know and love.

So, after a year here, I wanted to say thank you to Liss and thank you to Shakers everywhere. It has been a year of growth, both personally and as a writer and blogger. There have been ups, downs and outrages. But more than that, there has been acceptance, caring, and loads of laughs. I'm very proud to be a contributor here.

So to commemorate a year here, I figured I'd rehash one of my first posts for Shakesville. Because while I've grown as a person in the last year, I'm still completely freaked out by bats.

Get to Know Bill, Part 1: I am horrified of bats

(March 26, 2007) -- Being the new guy at a tight-knit community is always a tough thing. People look at you and think "Hey, who’s this jerk?" or "Wow, what a smug-looking jerk," or "Damn, I bet he's a jerk."

This is totally understandable. After all, the "Shakers" are much like the "Super Friends." Now this new dude shows up, and it appears his only superpower is to look really smug. Understandably the Super Friends are somewhat nervous and disconcerted.

So that's why I've decided to make a few posts every now and again, helping you all get a better idea of who I am and what I stand for. First of all, feel free to call me Bill, being that's my name and all. Of course, you can also call me Wolfrum, Wolfman, Wolfie, Jerk, or pretty much anything else you like.

Each post in this series will contain one vital tidbit about myself. Eventually, I’m hoping these posts weave a tapestry of my heart. Yes, that’s it exactly. I’m hoping to present you with a Heart Tapestry. Or a Jerk Tapestry. Whatever, you be the judge. So without further ado:

Get to Know Bill, Part 1: I am horrified of bats

So last night, my wife and I were enjoying a small evening meal and watching "Trading Spaces" or "Extreme Makeover" or "Oprah." It was one of those shows where people try to make other people's life better by building something or by telling them what books they should be reading.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, two bats flew in a small window. They were traveling at some ungodly speed … literally moving like bats out of hell. We both shared one fairly peaceful moment of "Hmm, how about that?" when we realized they were, in fact, bats.

And then the Mr. Bean skit ensued.

We totally freaked, me even worse than her. We live in a fairly bat-infested area, but for the most part, they don't bother us, so we don’t bother them. However, I had long ago warned my spouse that if said bats ever entered the house, I would lose it. Because while I have a love for all living things, bats are, in essence, flying rats, and I'm terrified of rats. Put wings on them and it's flat-out the apocalypse.

So my wife and I spent a minute or two completely losing it, running around the room, swinging pillows, even though the bats had left the room and were exploring the rest of our house, checking out our home-design skills or whatever the hell it is bats do.

My wife's response was simple and swift - "kill them!" Now, this is her default response to anything out of the ordinary entering our home, whether it be a cockroach or a rhino. If Jesus himself descended from heaven with a Christmas bag full of chocolate bunnies and dreidels, my wife would demand I kill it, and Mel Gibson would totally lose out on a new epic.

Luckily, the bats flew into separate bedrooms. So after regaining a slight bit of composure, I ran to the rooms (swinging a pillow wildly over my head. They go for the hair, you know) and shut the doors, trapping them inside.

Now, for me, that was enough, Problem solved, bats contained, time to move. Sadly, my wife demanded more of me and wanted me to actually run into each room, where the bats were wildly fluttering, and open the windows, which, of course, were closed. And locked.

I realized something about myself last night. Despite being 40, I still haven’t fully bought into the idea that I'm an adult. Because my first response was "why me!?" Then it occurred to me (or, she made it occur to me) that there was no one else to handle this situation, only me, because she sure as hell wasn't going in there.

So, to make a long story just this much longer, I managed to get in the rooms (I turned the lights on in the rooms, first, as I figured that would confuse them) and opened the windows. About two hours later I snuck back into each room, my wife behind me, to check for them, and saw they were gone. As I backed out of one of the rooms, I backed into my wife, causing me to totally lose it again. You could actually hear the theme song from Benny Hill.

In the end, I lived to tell about it, though my wife has totally lost whatever last bit of respect she had for me for acting like such a spaz. I had warned her it would happen, but the reality of it left her disgusted.

Later we discussed whether we should have an exterminator come to our home and throw down a bat genocide, but decided against it, and realized that this sort of thing may happen occasionally. Because no matter how horrifying they are, they're still just animals doing whatever it is they do in this world. I wouldn't feel right killing them. I'm not that big of a jerk.

--WKW