Phew.... what a week its been. I apologize this post is a little lackluster... I've had one of those weeks... and it's unfortunately only Wednesday. I'm tired, and warm, and spent the latter half of my work day breathing in the fumes of melting plastic coming into my office through the AC vent directly behind my desk. I was dizzy and very likely lost several very important brain cells.
On to the bugs. Cockroaches.
Ee gads. There are not many bugs that I refuse to have anything to do with. I find most arachnids fascinating. Even the majority of insects do not bother me. Cockroaches on the other hand creep me out.
There is no real reason for this fear. I was never cornered in a dark alley by an ugly bug the size of my hand. I've never moved an object only to have an ungodly amount of them go scurrying from the sudden light. I'm not even sure that I have ever been within close enough proximity to warrant the shivers I get when I see a cockroach. They are the one insect that I see in nature and I run the other way. That, or if I happen to be surprised by one, I leap into the air and squeal.
Perhaps it is that they can survive a nuclear explosion. Perhaps it's that they can be large enough to make an audible crunch when you crush them ... More then likely, it's that they are just plain horrible to see. They are just ugly. The creepy spines on their legs. The greasy sheen of their bodies. The intense scuttle when you catch them unawares. The way you blink and even though there is no where it should have been able to run and hide in the short time your eyes were not on it... they vanish! I've never even seen one that is bigger then the top knuckle of my thumb... but I know they are out there..... waiting............
And one day I'll be somewhere.... not expecting it and I will see this.....
Well, I'm officially excited for Halloween. I still don't know where I am going to spend the evening of October 31st, but I now know I am not going to be a cat. I was more interested in not spending any money then really finding something that I would love. In perusing the internet sites looking at the cheap and cheesy female costumes out there... genius hit! Now to enlist the aid of my roommate to assist me in making a skirt to finish it off... and I'm still not spending any money on it! So I can now look forward to my favorite holiday with happiness and not so much stress.
That being said... lets move on to another of my fears. As I had alluded to in my previous post...
Undead Children
I'm not talking about zombie, risen from the dead children, but GHOST children. Risen from the dead children are normally not as intent on vengeance so much as motivated to simply kill haphazardly. For some reason, the adorable blond haired child chasing me to eat my brains is not as horrifying as a ghost child waiting for me to come outside and assist me in finding their un-buried corpse so that they can rest in peace after an untimely death. A ghost child always seems to have some sneaky way of tricking you into running off a cliff or stepping in front of a rampaging horse and carriage. That is what makes them so horribly creepy to me.
Woman in Black scared me more then Dawn of the Dead. Something about a being that is normally so joyous and peaceful becoming vengeful and supernatural... Zombies I can deal with. They have a weakness and can be killed with pretty much any blunt object laying around the house. Ghost children are ghosts. They can walk through walls and haunt you. Since their lives were cut short, in movies it seems that they normally just want to be put to rest.... but not before starting up every creepy monkey toy in the unlit playroom.
Children are supposed to be light and airy, romping in the garden with dolly. When that play time is cut short in life but continues on in death... I can't even imagine...... And they always have the scariest effing laughter that seems to come from everywhere all at once.
I thought when I first started this blog chain that I would first and foremost start out talking about my intense Coulrophobia. It would be the one true and real phobia that I have... and it would also be the one that I might be able to talk about with the most depth and whatnot. However, the thought of writing about it made me feel queasy So, I decided to start out with something a little less terrifying....
The Weeping Angels of Doctor Who
I am relatively new to Who. However I am hooked! And for whatever reason the weeping angels are the creepiest things on that show thus far.
At first, all you see is a simple, sad angel made of stone. Sitting in the garden among the shrubs... Then you turn away and when you look back!! BAM! Evil creepy scary snarling stone thing.
I do NOT like that. In the teaser for this episode the tenth Doctor is telling someone via video recording Don't blink! That is when they will get you.... they are fast, faster then you can imagine. DON'T BLINK! The basis is that as long as you are looking at the angel they are a statue. When you turn away they move with incredible speed and silence until they are right there, snarling and ready to pounce. There have now been three episodes of Doctor Who with the angels, and each just makes them more and more creepy to me. There have been times when I catch myself giving wide berth to a statue in public. Of course I feel silly once I realize it's been done, but I can't help my subconscious. It does what it wants to.
The first episode involving the angels it was just a normal garden statue come to life to haunt the characters in a house. It was creepy in itself, but nothing really TERRIFYING, just another alien villain on a TV show. The next time they were on, there were multiple angels and strobe lights and it just scared me! Nothing to have nightmares about, at least not nightmares I can remember having. I had vaguely forgotten this fear, until The Angels Take Manhattan! the fall finale that was aired last Saturday night. Yeah... Up until this episode, the weeping angels are just angel statues. Sure I can avoid the random angel statue in LA. However, in The Angels Take Manhattan episode.... every damn statue in New York is a weeping angel, or weeping statue... or whatever.... They ALL come to life and want to take humans.
Remember this internet meme:
Well........ It looks something like this:
The Statue of Liberty. The Red Cross nurse helping a child in statue form. They are EVERYWHERE. And they are here to abduct humans for their own sinister deeds...... However... they also introduced..... THESE:
Mother Effin Baby Weeping Angel Cherubs! Oh man! Come ON! This combines two of my fears in one horrifying being. Weeping angels that could be any statue on earth come to get me... and undead children (a fear that will likely be reviewed in a very near future post). The childish psychotic giggling that haunts Rory in the dark. Screw that! I was just glad I watched the episode in the daytime and with company, even if that company was asleep.
And that is why I have decided to start of my 31 days of scaring the crap outta myself with the Weeping Angels. Working my way through my own private nightmare collection...
This is the beginning of my favorite time of year. Fall is upon us (even though I have yet to see any foliage actually change colors). The weather is starting to cool down (even though it's almost 100ยบ today). Most important, Halloween is right around the corner (even though its on a Wednesday this year and thus might as well be just another week day).
Halloween has been my favorite ever since I was a little girl, running around the neighborhood as Glenda the Good. As I aged, I still always loved and looked forward to Halloween with great anticipation. Agonizing over the details of a costume I had chosen the day after Halloween the previous year. Even now, as an adult, I still look forward to dressing up and going out with friends to see and be seen by all those who enjoy the chance to be a child at heart. There is truly nothing greater than receiving permission to dress up as someone else, run around the neighborhood like a wild child, all the while begging free candy from strangers.
Unfortunately, over the last few years, it has become more and more difficult to get myself in the mood for the holiday. It's become a chore trying to find a cute costume that isn't completely cheap. It's even more difficult to find a cute costume that isn't just some slutty version of something awesome. There is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING sexy about Freddy Kruger... or Big Bird for that matter. You wanna do something sexy, be Rainbow Brite or She-Ra. Skimpy costumes... without actually being just a slutty version. It's just so difficult. Add to that, going out on Halloween is just asking to be surrounding by Slutty Freddy and Babalicious Big Bird all night. I just don't have the energy. Me in my mid-thigh length skirt and cat ears all of a sudden becomes the matron kitty in the corner. You just can't compete with a skin tight crayon dress. You can make up hilarious jokes about the crayon and her relative brightness as compared to her crayon friends. However, even that will only get you so far.
This year, I'm keeping it simple (and inexpensive) and I'm excited. I am also going to attempt to get back to the root of Halloween. The thing I loved most about it as I was growing up. Getting the bujeezus scared out of me! So every night that I can get a few minutes (and I'm hoping to find that most nights), I am going to write a post. Each post is going to be something that scares me. Some of them will be things that absolutely terrify me. Some will be things that I simply find a little bit creepy. Some of them will be things that you see in everyday occurrences. While some will be things from TV or the internet or someone's very fucked up imagination. They will be in no particular order, and hopefully by the time Halloween rolls around... there will be a list of 31 things I am scared of. All in the effort to scare the bujeezus out of myself......... And perhaps a random reader now and again.
So many people have asked me how I am feeling about the event. And to be honest.... it feels like it's just going to be another day. I remember thinking when I was younger that 30 was SO old. I also remember thinking I wouldn't even make it to 30... But now that it is here... upon me... mere days away..... it's just one more day to get through.
It is, however, making me think about my life. Seriously think about it. I am looking at my situations... financially, love, living, and am I truly happy with them? I can't honestly say that I am. Nothing that I can see in my life is perfect. Nothing makes me truly happy. But I am here. I am alive. And that is more then I could say about myself even 2 years ago, especially not 12 years ago with the emotional train-wreck I was in high school.
And yet, here I am. Still no husband, children, or house with a white picket fence. Still no college diploma or career. Still renting an apartment with a roommate. Still living paycheck to paycheck in a job I enjoy but have no real passion for. But at the same time, I hear about all my friends and old schoolmates and what is happening in their lives, and I wonder, is my life as it is really so bad?
I think when I was in high school and even elementary school, I wanted the life where everything was laid out and set up. The husband and the 2.5 kids, the dog and cat lounging in the living room. I was going to be a veterinarian. However, now that I am older, and wiser, I just can't SEE myself there. Just like my dreams of being a vet, I saw the reality of the situation and realized it's just not for me.
I have my apartment. And my kitty. And my boyfriend. I have my friends. And my job. And at times, I have my health. I have my freedom to do what I want on the weekends with who I want to be there with. I have all this, and it is no where near where I THOUGHT I would be by the time I hit 30. However, now that I have sat down and really thought about it.... I am ok with that.
My life has been one trial after another. Not all of them horrible, but the bad ones do out number the good by a lot. Who out there can say their life was paved with chocolate and ponies?
So in honor of rounding the corner of the big 30th birthday... I'm getting my friends... and I'm going to Disneyland!!!!
Last night I had an experience of the near death variety.... again.........
Imagine if you will... The place: Northbound on the 5 freeway. The time: 3:43am....
No wait... let's backtrack a little more...
Yesterday was July 4th! Our nation's Independence Day. It's a big deal holiday. I had the day off. Unfortunately, it landed on a Wednesday this year, so there was no hard core partying as everyone was expected back at work the next day. Still, DJ and all our friends ended up at Disneyland. It was a gorgeous day. Not as crowded as I was expecting... not too hot... no one was behaving badly... so the day just got better and better. We had a few drinks... went on a few rides... but mostly we just hung out with each other. Something that hasn't happened in such a way in much too long of a time. Around 9:15 we decided to get a spot for the special ID4 Fireworks show. Again, unfortunately... it was PACKED! DJ and I decided to take the opportunity to sneak out before the immense rush of all those people that run for the parking lots as soon as the show is over. We ended up getting off the tram just in time to see the show from afar in the parking lot. It was beautiful. I was feeling such a state of happiness that nothing could mar my mood. Not even the impending drive home....... We stopped off at a Denny's, split some greasy fried food and continued on to his house that is within walking distance of the park. Again.... unfortunately, I got comfy and we fell asleep. This is not so unfortunate, but not exactly advantageous when I am meant to be at work at 8am the next morning and we never set an alarm. I woke with a start around 2:45 and started to get ready to leave. DJ was trying to talk me into staying... calling out sick... just getting back in bed to snuggle and rest. I couldn't... or maybe wouldn't. Either way... I left.
It's not the first time I have driven home ridiculously late... or early depending on how you look at it. I was not drunk. I was not even tired. I just knew I had to leave so that I could get a few hours rest before I had to start getting ready for work.
The drive home was easy. Until I hit the dreaded aforementioned time and place... Then everything changed...
I was driving about 75mph by this time. The roads were so clear and I just wanted to get home. I was going northbound on the 5 freeway. I had just hit the point where an extra lane forms on the left side to allow for the ramp from the 5 onto the 710... I had almost hit the home stretch. There was a car to my immediate right. Going slightly faster then I was. I don't like driving in that lane much. I don't like being close to the wall, especially when there is another car right next to me. It makes me nervous, I'm sure I am not alone in that. So lalala... driving along... listening to Under the Sea playing... singing along with it.... practically able to feel my bed I'm so close to home....
For a split second I thought the headlights were on the other side of the center divider. How could they be otherwise? Before I even had time to finish the thought.... "What is tha....." I realized that heading directly toward me are headlights. They are not on the other side of the wall. They are attached to a car that is in front of me... heading the wrong way on the freeway and traveling in the lane I am. Somehow... instead of freaking out as I always imagine myself doing, a state of calm came over me. I checked to my right, saw the previously mentioned car, applied the breaks slightly to let him get ahead of me, and zigged into the next lane ... barely missing running head on into the other car. All of this seems like it should have taken a longer time then it did, it took mere seconds. Good thing too, or I would have hit the car... or both cars.... I swung back into my previous lane and checked my rear view mirror just as the car went out of sight behind a curve in the freeway.
I continued up the ramp and before I could even think about stopping I was on the 710 freeway. The other car did not falter or crash or anything that I could tell, so I decided I would call 911 to report it and just continue on my way. What else could I do aside from looping around and attempting to find the car to make sure everything was fine. Everything aside from the obvious anyway. Several problems to this course of action soon arose however...
First, my cell phone had died. I thought it was charging on the drive home, but when I grabbed it to make the call, it was completely dead.
Second, everything had happened so fast. I couldn't tell you what kind of car it was... or even what color. So assuming it wasn't still traveling the wrong way on the freeway, how would the cops or whomever know which car was the one with an obviously impaired driver. I don't know if there was actually someone in the car. I don't know if it was even moving forward. I just know that I barely missed the equivalent of hitting a cement wall going over 100mph.
Third, my brain once it exited calm and collected mode, went on complete bat shit crazy over thinking mode. It started making wild leaps to who and what the driver of the car was doing. I immediately remembered the chains of emails warning people about new gang initiations that were targeting random drivers. Warnings to not stop if you notice something horribly wrong on your drive as it might be a gang initiate laying in wait for you. What if that first car to my right was involved. He was meant to trap me so I had no where to go but head on into the car. What if I went back to help and somehow found the car... and they ended up shooting me or something.
I started shaking. I kept driving. I obsessively checked my rear view mirror to see if I was being followed.
Several seconds after my brain knew I was safe and alive, my mp3 player randomly started playing this song...
Muse, Feeling Good from their album Origin of Symmetry. The video is a little disturbing, especially the thumbnail they decided to freeze frame for reference here..... but this has always been one of those songs that makes me happy when it comes on. The Nina Simone version is good. The Michael Buble is all right. But the Muse version is my favorite. The fact that of the 8gb worth of music on my mp3 player, it chose that moment to play this song... I don't know. It made me feel a new kind of life could be mine.
With everything that has been happening to me the last few years, most of which has been documented on this blog, but some of which is too personal and/or controversial for me to want to detail it for the general public... I feel like for the first time there is something up there guiding me.
I am not a religious person. At all. I was raised Christian, which isn't really a religion compared to pretty much anything else out there. I went to Sunday School as a child and the hi-light of that was memorizing bible verses to earn tickets to spend on stuff in their little store. I saved up enough for the Precious Moments bible. It was like a religious Chuck E. Cheese. Then when my mom met my step-dad, we stopped going... and I never looked back.
I am NOT discounting the existence of a higher power that created life as we know it now. I just don't necessarily believe that it is God as the bible states, or Allah, or any other human created deity. I do believe in the science of the universe, the Big Bang and Darwin and all of that. But that does not mean I don't think there isn't something out there that made all of that possible. I guess you could say that I believe there is something bigger then us... I just don't know what... and I'm not devoting my Sunday mornings to a chance.
However, the last few months... or years rather have really made me think about where I am in the universe and who out there cares that I am still here.
Well. I have failed in my Picture a Week. As I fail in most things... (I've started drinking Diet Coke again too, albeit sporadically... so there goes an 8 year resolution down the drain...)
I was going strong with it... but I just realized I don't like looking at myself that much... why would some complete stranger care. My few followers MIGHT, but they are also actual friends and have access to my facebook and twitter, where they can see the pics that I post... and I post ALL pics. Tons of pics on facebook especially... And they are pics where I am not looking all weird... or pics where you can tell when I forgot to take a pic on Friday morning and scramble to take on somewhere at work where no one will walk by and think I'm freaking weird for snapping a pic of myself in the hallway. Or in the bathroom (the light really was the best in there...) Or the fact that I would take a TON of pics... each a little different to attempt to get the lighting right on my face... or to get the angle that doesn't make my nose look funky... or the smile and eyes not creeped out by the process I have been doing for weeks.
So yea... I gave up.... if you really even cared what my hair looked like..... I cut it... it still has some black. I'm hoping that will be gone in the next 3 months... and I am LOVING my natural color. Especially the splotch of silver in the bangs.
When it is all grown out and done... THEN will I post a picture so that the random people who stumble upon my blog will know what it looks like.........
And I am sure they will give at LEAST two shits about it.
