Oh spider, my spider

This totally terrifying spider has decided to take up residence on the light pole right outside my apartment complex (right above my car) -- which puts her at about eye level when I make it to the third level of my stairwell.

It's about 30 feet up -- and every time I walk up and down the stairs I can see her clinging precariously to her web as it waves back and forth in the wind and rain -- or using her really long spider claw things to catch bugs and wrap them up in, you know, webs of evil.

I don't know quite what to make of the whole thing -- as I certainly am not used to rooting for mosquitos (if anything is spider food, it's mosquitos). I can't help feeling like she's quietly preparing for some kind of full-on invasion. Which, I guess, now that I'm thinking about it, is pretty much what all insects (and other creatures) do -- they just make more of themselves.

At any rate, because of her maverick decision to make her home 30 feet in the air, below the omnipresent glow of a yellow beam, I named her Sarah.