I could say this was because I was too busy continuing preparations for my return to the states in a few
I could say it's because I was otherwise preoccupied working on a quick project (More on that Wednesday).
Or I could say that I just plain didn't want to put forth the effort to make a post. You don't own me, I don't have to if'n I dun wanna. Because I'm five now.
Or I could just be 100% honest and say that I didn't post on Friday because while I was putting on my socks that day I realized that one of my socks had a dried up dead cockroach on it*, and I subsequently lost my nerve to do anything for the rest of the day outside of ball up on the couch and watch cartoons. Wow, I really am five.
I am... totally a wuss. I'm scared of a lot of stupid stuff. Well, I mean, I don't think it's stupid. But usually when I run down the top contenders people look at me like I'm weird.
- Balloons. I actually try really hard not to tell people I'm afraid of balloons. Because for some reason people interpret that as "oh, let me just go get this balloon and pop it right next to you. That will be hilarious." NO IT WILL NOT. I have been known to both pee my pants when a balloon pops next to me, and/or have a legitimate panic attack. It's not funny, it's cruel. Don't do that.
- Clowns. Lots of people are afraid of clowns. This doesn't make it any more legitimate of a fear, it just makes it common.
- Knives. I sincerely don't understand why knives are not a more wide-spread fear among the general populace. They can CUT you, people. Wound, scar, maim, kill! I always feel a little nervous around knives, (or exacto knives or or box cutters axes or really anything with a blade) but I don't usually get scared until someone besides me has one in hand. Fiance can attest to this. In the height of his "impress Kp" dating stage, he offered to make me sushi, and it required the use of a very, very sharp "ninja" knife. He asked me to record him chopping things on his phone to show it off (I was in "impress then-Boyfriend" dating stage so I agreed), and he thought it would be funny if he pretended to accidentally cut off his thumb with the stupid thing. The video ends with me tossing the phone on the counter and yelling "Holy F***!" while trying my damnedest to exit the room as quickly as possible.
- Storms. I think this really has the same base-fear as balloons: namely the unpredictable loud boom noises. I don't like being startled. But, you know, storms could totally kill you, so excuse me if I will never understand people who are all "Let's go dance in the puddles while this thunder and lightening threatens to steal our very lives!" I've managed to pass this neurosis off to both Mac and Bubba as well, so in climate weather is more or less a circus at our house.
[I need to take a second right here right now to add that I should probably amend this list of fears to include eye-injury by jalepeño. Because that literally just happened while I was in the middle of typing said list.
I rubbed my eye, and since I had been working on making a pot of beans for dinner earlier, I managed to get pepper juice in my orbital socket. It was like if someone had poured kerosene on my face and lit a match. Also quick pro-tip: yelling and running in a circle blindly doesn't help. Sticking your face under a running faucet while beathing through a straw does. A little.]
Further, I've never really gotten why people enjoy being scared. Horror movies and haunted houses; I don't get them. They're just not my bag. I've successfully made it all the way through 2 (two; dos) haunted houses ever.
Of the two houses I successfully navigated, one was Terror on the Fox, which is an annual haunted house in Ashwaubenon (suburb of Green Bay where I grew up). I made it through due almost entirely to the fact that I actually KNEW 75% of the actors from high school, and therefore was mostly certain they weren't going to chainsaw me to death.
The second house I got all the way through, was kind of cheating, because I was an actor in it. I was in college, and it was run by the RAs (myself included). I had helped to decorate (if that's what you would call it) the space, and I did a lot of the makeup for the zombies. I was cast as the creepy Cousin-It type girl from the Ring, since at that point I was a junior and therefore I hadn't had a haircut in roughly three years. Add a white nightgown and I stuck that role pretty well.
One of our first customers that year was a popular priest on campus (when you go to a Catholic College you end up meeting some pretty cool Padres), who had agreed to check it out in support of the RA staff. He cooly chuckled at the first room (where I was stationed), jumping mildly as I crept up behind him while he was watching the static-y old TV, and tossing a "great job Kipper," over his shoulder, he moved on through the rest of the rooms. I could hear his progress, because our 'walls' were made of tarps. He got to the room where the Dr. Clowns were performing surgery (see the other thing I dislike is that haunted houses don't have any sense to them. This isn't Patch Adams here people; Dr. Clowns!?), and for reasons I will never, ever understand, one of them successfully made Father jump, as the other one screamed: "Where is your God NOW!? Ahahahahah!"
Things to maybe not say to a man of the cloth... I heard it and I knew that year's haunted house was sunk right there. I was more sure when Father immediately let himself back out of the haunted house by pulling up the tarp walls and walking out the door he came in. Good job, stupid Dr. Clowns. Poor Choices.
I've tried many more haunted houses/ train rides/ cornfields/ etc. than that, because, you know, peer pressure and all. I fully admit I was an easy target for the actors in those places: I looked terrified the second I got out of the car in the parking lot. And as soon as they fixed themselves on me, they didn't have to do anything more than walk really close to me in a dark room and I would start screaming with the fully capacity of my lungs for them to let me use the emergency exit. I finally realized that I wasn't having fun as much as I was wasting my money on an admission fee for a space I would only get 50 feet into.
Along those same lines, I have sat through approximately 5 horror movies in my entire life, and every one of them can be attributed to peer pressure. But with movies I've noticed there is always this point where the peers I am with start to get concerned for me, because I'm not just jumpy, I'm visibly disturbed. That's when they will always ask "Hey, you wanna leave/ turn this off?" But then it's too late.
You can't stop in the middle of a horror movie! That's the height of your immersion/belief in the plot! If you stop then, there is zero closure, and I will spend the next month or so thinking Samara's going to jump out of my TV and make me look like some kind of cracked out mummy in the fetal position. Come on now.
This was the case last night, when Fiance turned on a movie which he thought was a historical action movie about the Apollo 18 mission, but was actually a terrifying movie (if you are a horror buff, please keep in mind that terrifying is a subjective term, but note: I didn't even watch that trailer, I just linked it) about how the rocks on the moon are actually tiny crab-like aliens who will burrow inside you, infect you, and then basically make you explode from the inside out. An hour in Fiance asked if we should turn it off. But I had to see the end, because what if they made it to Earth and infected us all.
After that movie ended I made Fiance stay up extra late and watch old Big Bang Theory episodes with me to "cleanse the pallet" of my mind. It occurred to me that comedy and cartoons are totally my coping mechanism for fear. Which I'm okay with, because generally cartoons and comedy are pretty awesome at any point. It also occurs to me that I should work on expanding my cartoon collection, because you never know when a rogue balloon is going to pop within my general vicinity and I'm going to need Oliver and Company to make everything okay (would it be wrong to use our wedding registry to register for a whole bunch of Disney movies?).
Do you have any stupidly illogical fears?
Tell me in the comments - what do you do to un-terrify yourself?
*Fiance, when you read this, that little crispy corpse is still upstairs, next to my sock drawer. I can't find the gumption to get rid of it myself, and I managed to block it out of my immediate mind all weekend, so I didn't get the chance to tell you. But it's still there, and I saw it this morning and almost barfed. PleasemoveitsoIcangobacktopretendingI'mnotinsane.
RANDOM SECTION TIME:
Just 1 today friends - The Dreaded 29 Update: -12, 17 to go! Kickin ass and takin names, it's what I do.