Monday, April 30, 2012

I Owe the Hubs a New Shirt

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 26 (Last one!): Zombies


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 10!

I wonder how many posts will be on zombies today.

Funny thing, I'm terrified... and I mean piss my pants terrified of zombies... but I can't stop watching zombie shows (and loving them).



The scariest zombies (for me) are in 28 Days Later. Any zombie that I have to have super advanced cardio in order to survive? Ya, no thanks!







The Walking Dead freaked me out because of the lack of music in that show. I never knew when to expect a zombie (or walker) or when not to. And when things did happen that made me jump, I would also scream and tear my hubby's shirt. (Yeah, I ripped the buttons off once and bit a hole in the back of it.) But show was addictive and freakin' awesome, so I will endure the zombies for that one.





Zombieland cracked me up, but still scared me.




















Same with Shaun of the Dead.









Speaking of... Dawn of the Dead I watched for a whole ten minutes before I shut it off and had nightmares for a month. Whenever the boy would come in the middle of the night I'd freak thinking he was there to eat me.





Resident Evil... ya, I won't even go there. Games and movies alike.










I've told everyone I know whenever the zombie apocalypse comes up in discussion (and in my awesome circle of friends, it comes up quite a bit) I let them know I'm letting myself get bit. Here's my logic.

1. I hate running for my life and living every second waiting to be pounced on.
2. There's the whole thing about if zombies actually have souls and whatnot. If I'm a zombie, guess I'll have that figured out.
3. I'm not a vegetarian, so eating meat no matter what kind won't be totally against my moral code.
4. I'm terrified of guns, so there's no way I'd be able to use one.
5. If I were given a weapon, I'd probably end up hurting myself by falling on it or trying to do some super ninja move.

On a side note, do you think that zombies have any other desires besides hunger? I mean, there's vampire and werewolf love stories. Why not a zombie one? Or is that too close to Necrophilia?

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Can't my babies stay babies?

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 25: Young Adults


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 5

People, I'm afraid of teenagers.

I actually spend a lot of my time with them. Most of my friends are 16, lol. They are just fine as my friends... even though they make me feel centuries old... but to think of me parenting a teenager? YIKES!

Especially teenage girls. I've got two boys so it's not as scary, but still.

I wish I could explain this fear of mine. Maybe it's cuz I worry about them and what kind of world they're growing up in. I'm not old... I mean, I was a teenager 5 years ago, lol, but a lot has changed in that short amount of time.

I'm also intimidated by them. Their attitudes and their strength and individuality. Don't know how I'll handle it when my boys grow up.

Hopefully they won't hate me when I have to be the bad guy. I guess that's what I'm afraid of most.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Oh My Hottie Hot Hero Bloghop

First, have to thank our awesome hosts Jaycee and Victoria for this bloghop!!! I'm excited to read today's entries :)

Since I'll be posting for the A to Z (Scroll down if you are here for that :) I've asked Hayley to interview Brody today. They are quite the pair! Take it away you guys :) 


Sup home slices! I got my number one peep here to answer all those questions to make girls drool over him. You ready for this Brody?

Wait a second, you told me we were gonna be doin’ a survey.

It is a survey… sort of. And you lost the bet we made last week, so you have to do it anyway.

Fine, a deal’s a deal, Hayles. Shoot.

Okay, we’ll start with an easy one. Favorite movie. Go!

Zombieland. Movie is badass!

Um... ya, that’s a good one for sure.

Oh, sorry. Forgot you don’t like the cussin’. It’s off the hook?

Do people still say that?

What would you say?

It’s friggin’ awesome!

Well, there you go.

Okay, next question!
How would your friends describe you in one word?

I dunno. How would you describe me?

Clever, Bro-Yo. I guess I’ll answer one question for you, but you can’t cop out on the rest. Hmmm…
Sweet.

Sweet?

Don’t make that face! It’s a compliment! There aren’t enough sweet guys in the world.

You make it sound like I’m your brother.

Well, you wanted me to answer, so that’s what you’re getting. Next one! How would you describe yours truly?

You? Ah hell… I mean heck… you’re so wonderfully weird. I never have to worry about what I’m gonna say or if it sounds stupid or whatever ‘cause you just get me. I’m nervous as crap ‘cause you make me that way, but it’s ‘cause you’re a ten.

I take it back.

What?

My one word.

Okay…

I would describe you as sexy.

Uh… next question, before my ears burn off.

Okay. What is the first thing you notice about a woman that you find attractive?

Her ass… shit… I mean! Dammit! I mean… dang it! Her… rear?

Oh my gosh! You totally just said rear!

Butt? Bumb? Backside? Trunk? Tooshie?

Okay, okay! You likey the hiney!

Just bein’ honest.

Last question. You ready? It’s a tough one.

Go for it.

What do you value most in a potential love interest?

Dude, Hayles, you should know that already.

I should? Remind me.

Strength I guess. Someone who’s not afraid to be herself. Someone who has the best attitude despite all the shi… crap that comes her way. Someone like… well, like you, Hayles.

Holy freakin’ flying jellybeans.

Took the words right out of my mouth.

Well, that was the last question. How do you think you did?

Can I get a kiss from you, yet? ‘Cause that’s all that matters to me.

Smooth Brody, real smooth.

A Possessed Hobbit

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 24: Xavier

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 6

I'm a CW junkie. You are not allowed to judge me.

I watched One Tree Hill religiously during its 9 seasons. In season 6, a character was introduced that scared the crap out of me.

This post contains A LOT OF SPOILERS! If you plan on watching OTH or are in the middle of catching up or whatever, this is your warning.

First off, he's just creepy. You take a look at this guy and you know he's up to something.

Second, he totally killed off a lovable character without a drop of remorse.

Third, he beat up an even more lovable character. Like beat her so bad she was barely recognizable.

Fourth, just when you thought he was gone from the show forever, he comes back in the final season, and was the scariest of all!

He was stalking one of the mc's and every time the camera turned around, BAM! He was there and I swear I yelped every time.

He also looks like one of the hobbits on LOTR. That hobbit was cool, but here he looks like someone possessed said hobbit and terrorized the CW actresses.

He got his in the end. Tazed within an inch of his life and sent back to prison was okay I guess. But I think I'd be alright if this character had been nixed.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Swim Swim Swim As Fast As You Can!

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 23: Water


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 5

Let my preface this with, I have a vivid imagination.

I don't like it when my feet don't touch the bottom of the pool. I can swim, I'm not afraid of drowning. I'm afraid of the shark that lives in the deep end.

When the hubs took me on a date to uh... can't remember where it was exactly, but it was a pool with a slide that dumped you into the 12 ft deep end. I wanted to go on the slide, and it was early in our relationship so I was trying to impress him with how cool I was, so I went on it with him.

When I landed in the deep end, I surfaced and swam like a mad woman to the 4 ft area. Because if I didn't swim fast enough, I'd be eaten by the pool shark.



I don't know why I thought the hubs wouldn't notice my flailing to the other end of the pool. Or why I thought if he did notice, that would be so sexy of me. So when he caught me around my waist, I squealed, my imagination going crazy and thinking I'd met my demise via shark attack.

He laughed and asked what the rush was. I'm a horrid liar so I told him the truth. The shark that lives in the deep end was gonna eat me and I had to get the heck out of there.

Because he already knew me really well, he knew I was serious about this and patted my head as if to say "I love all your weirdness".

And yet, it doesn't stop him from mentioning the pool shark every time we go swimming.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

A Bucket of Vomit

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day whatever day cuz I can't count and I'm too lazy to right now: Vomit


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 8

Once upon a time, there was a little place called Jungle Jim's Playland.

Do you all know where I'm going with this? Because if you get squeamish... yup, there's my warning.

Jungle Jim's (JJ's) was my first 'real' job. Found my soul mate there and also learned a good work ethic. My first management position was also there. Some good times my friends.

However...

In case you don't know what JJ's is, it's a place where parents take their kids, feed them loads of pizza, cake, and soda, then stick them on rides that only go around.

And around...

And around...

So, an experienced JJ employee knew how to gauge the vomit-meter. The green face, or the pale face, or the hand over the stomach. All signs the chunks were about to fly.

Good times with one of my best buds :)
As a ride operator (the newbie station) if a child threw up on your ride, it was your job to clean it. (The spinning tops was the designated puke zone ride.) I was lucky enough to never have to clean the vomit while I was a ride operator. I thought I was in the clear once I was promoted.

How wrong I was.

One lovely night as a crew leader (or Head Ride Operator if you are looking for a similar title) one of the newbies came up to me and said a girl had thrown up on her ride. (Spinning tops. Seriously those things were awful just looking at them.)

I gave her the proper equipment and sent her on her way.

About two minutes later she comes back, totally green and says, "Um, I threw up too. I don't think I can do this."

Sigh...

So I told her to take a break and I'll take care of it.

Let me tell you about these Spinning Tops. They look like a boat, and four kids are buckled in and then spun around by the ride operator as fast as they wanna go for about three minutes.

The entire boat, I mean the whole bottom of this four person boat was filled with puke.

The roll of paper towels and rags were not going to cut it. I needed a dang bucket for this thing.

I looked over at the ride operator on the ride next to me, who happened to be... ding ding ding! The hubs! (Sexy co-worker at the time.) And he was laughing his butt off.

So, tucking my face in my shirt and yanking on some massive rubber gloves, I cleaned up the regurgitated pizza and cake while singing Ghostbusters.

That day has been burned into my memory. And I fear for the day when my kids puke like that and I'll have to be a big girl and clean it up.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Flash Dance

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 21: Unitards


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 4

WARNING (yes, another disclaimer): This is one of those posts that may make you uncomfortable if you don't like reading about boobs. (Or laugh if you are like Hope ;) )

You know those cute little girls that take ballet or dance class and have their pictures and awards hung up? Ya, I was not one of those girls. I could not face the unitard.


Let's just say I've been... blessed in a certain area of my body. Too blessed. Even at a young age. And there's no way someone is squeezing these juggers into a unitard, because the entire time they will be protesting to get out.

Every movement I make, I swear, I'd be terrified that POP! There's a boob!

So when a few of my friends wanted to sign up for dance, I couldn't stop the images of strutting my stuff out on the field when suddenly my boobs fly out in front of the entire school. So dance was not an option of mine.

I mean, gym was bad enough when we had to do jumping jacks.


And guess who's somewhere else today?? Angie over at Live to Write, Edit When Necessary (PS, I love her blog title) interviewed yours truly. Pay me a visit? Thanks friends!

Monday, April 23, 2012

Do not use the trunk of your car as a dressing room

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 20: Trunks


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 3

This post will give you a look into just how embarrassing my life is sometimes. You've been warned.

And apparently, most of my posts have a disclaimer of some kind, lol.

I went to Walmart (by myself this time) to pick up some milk and other things I didn't need but ended up getting. I have my keys on a carabiner. It's just easier to clip onto my belt loop because I don't carry a purse. (ya, those things are not for me.) Well, I had clipped this on funny that night. It was totally stuck to my jeans.

I was a little embarrassed standing outside my car, wrestling with my pants over who gets the keys, so I popped the trunk and put the milk in and sat inside the car trying (and failing) to get the darn keys off my belt loop (and pocket. Apparently, that was my downfall.)
 
Ya, it was not happening. So I tried taking the individual key off so I could at least get home.

Nope, couldn't move that either.

So there I sat, trying to weigh my options. First, I had to get my pants off. There was just no other way around it to getting these darn keys.

Choice A: Go back into Walmart and use the bathroom. (um, you all know how I feel about bathrooms, so choice A was a choice: Ah heck no!!)

Choice B: Continue to lose the battle over jeans vs me.

Choice C: Climb in the trunk and take the pants off.

Um, that's the one I picked.

Now, I had to move the milk and other stuff before climbing in. And since I didn't want to do that outside the car, I climbed in the trunk from the inside. Okay, I'm not the smallest person in the world. That being said, fitting in the trunk was an accomplishment all it's own. But taking my pants off? I think I'm more flexible than I give myself credit for, lol.

Anyways, I used my phone as a light and fought the pants for the keys some more. And yes, I finally won and the keys were free! Now to put on the pants and get myself back home!

Lesson number one, when putting on your pants in the trunk of a car, make sure they are facing the right way. Lesson number two, do not lose the keys or phone in the process.

I failed at both.

I don't know how long I was fumbling around for those keys, but it was enough time for me to panic. Holy crap, I'm going to die in the trunk of my car.

At least the pants are up, right?

I did find the keys obviously. And my phone. I popped the trunk with the key fob and climbed out, just as someone walked by (of course). My pants were on backwards and my shirt was all twisted and my hair was a mess.

But I had my keys!!

Saturday, April 21, 2012

I Just Wanna Stay at the Top of the Food Chain

Okay, I have to apologize for my absence the past couple days. Crazy busy over here in Cassie World, but I have responded to all you lovely people who came and stopped by and I'm hoping to be a better commenter throughout the rest of the month!

Alrighty, doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 19: Sarlacc


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 6

Now, for those of you who aren't up on your Star Wars knowledge, a Sarlacc is this creepy sand creature thingy that lives in the ground...


I love pretty much everything Star Wars. It was one of the things that brought me and hubs together, but this lovely Sarlacc gave me major nightmares as a child, and then when they rebooted the DVDs, they made the thing even creepier!

That and I'm just afraid of anything that can eat me. And it ate Boba Fett like he was just the appetizer. *shivers*

Friday, April 20, 2012

Why I Have a Five Inch Scar on my Leg

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 18: Razors


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 4




Okay, so I was a hairy kid. I mean, like my legs were sprouting forests when I was in the fourth grade. And I have super dark hair, so that didn't help anything.

I was too afraid to ask my mom if I could shave. She'd probably say no and tell me I was too young, so I decided just to go for it. So one night, I told her I was going to take a bath before bed.

I'm not sure why, but the bath was not okay. I don't remember the reason my mom gave me, but she told me to take a quick shower instead.

There was no way I was going to do my first shave standing in the shower. I mean, girls shave in the bathtub right? (You see my naivety?) But I didn't want to tell my mom why it needed to be a bath, so I said, "Okay" went upstairs and started a bath, despite what she told me.

I was doing great, I tell you! Shaving the fur wasn't so bad. Didn't even hurt! Until...

BAM!

YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU TO TAKE A SHOWER! YOU DO WHAT SHE SAYS!

My dad's pounding on the bathroom door jolted me so bad I sliced half my leg open. It was bad. Like WAY bad. And what stung the most was the soapy water I was using in the tub.

It bled like crazy. And there was no way of hiding it. So when I came out of the bathroom and went straight for the bandages, my mom noticed what I was doing and asked what happened.

My genius little mind went to the story I concocted while I finished my shower:

Me: I fell on the razor.

Mommy: You what?

Me: I slipped and as I fell the razor went with me and my leg landed on it.

Mommy: (barks out laughing... for like a few minutes) Okay, now, tell me what really happened.

Mommy is no fool. ;) And yes, my family still quotes the "I fell on the razor" to me.

But I did get something out of it. She taught me to shave right afterward and I didn't even have to wait for the maturation program to get my very first razor! Score!

However, I am much more careful when I'm shaving... more vocal too so no one scares me while the blade is at work.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Keep Talking, or I'll Sing at You

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 17: Quiet


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 5

I have a confession.

I'm a loud mouth.

Oh, you already knew that?

Okay then...

Now, when I say I'm afraid of things being quiet, I'm not talking about that peaceful place one can only be so lucky to find at the end of the day when the kids are asleep. I'm talking about that pause in conversation when people stop laughing and the group goes into a collective sigh.

You all know what I'm talking about. That 7 minute silent break. I can't stand those. In fact, they make me feel so weird I have to make some noise to make sure it's not long. (which is why I've told people there are NO awkward silences around me.)

Thing is, sometimes I don't always have something to say. I've spouted off nonsense before when I can sense a pause coming, usually saying something like, "The blue pig farted on the farm the other day." Usually brings people out of the silence. Or sometimes, I'll smack someone in the forehead, but only if I've known you for a while.

But when I can't think of some random thing to say, I just belt out a solitary note.

This isn't a quiet note either. It's one of those, "I'm attempting to break glass" notes. (My mommy does this too. So blame her for this habit of mine.)

First time I meet people, this scares the crap out of them and they look at me like I've got a booger hanging out of my nose or something. But for people that know me, they laugh (sometimes clap or join in) and the conversation continues.

It's crazy, but effective.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Yes, Girls Poop Too

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 16... is that right?: Porta Potties (Funny thing, and it wasn't intentional, I'll be posting about Pee at my group blog today. In case you don't get enough bathroom humor from this post.)

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 100000000000000000 (YIKES!!!)

WARNING: This is pretty embarrassing for me. Potty mishaps usually are. Please don't think less of yours truly if you wish to continue.

What's the worst kind of bathroom?? The porta potty. And yes, I've had to use these horrific things before.


There's this thing called Trek (for those of you who live in Utah and are LDS, you probably know what I'm talking about.) but for those of you that don't, it's this mock version of the Pioneers traveling through the desert with handcarts. Now, it's a boy/girl weeklong campout thingy, and since it's pretty much desolate where you go hiking, there's nowhere to piss that's private.

So they provide the porta potties. All lined up on the back of a truck.

I was 16 years old, and I tried to prepare for this trip by eating a ton of cheese. I mean, cheese is a butt cork, right? This was my logic.

I did not know that campout food (Shepherd's pie, Chili, Beef Stew... basically anything that can be made in a dutch oven, not to mention all the apples they kept handing out) would pop that cork like a fizzling bottle of Champagne.

Boy/girl hike, and I had the runs. (Yes, girls have this problem too.)

Okay, porta potties are the opposite of soundproof. I mean the WAY opposite of soundproof. They are the fart enhancers. Even the SBD's would be heard in these things.

Then there's the space they give you to do your business. My knees were holding the door shut. I swear the boy's butts were probably pressed against the door while they peed. This makes wiping, um... difficult, especially since leaning forward you'd smack your face on the door.

As if you need another horror story from yours truly, but here it goes. One of my million trips to the dump truck (haha! punny), a few of my 'buddies' thought they'd be real funny and try to scare the poo out of me.

My So-called Buddies.
They all knew my fear of getting shot on the pot, so what they decided to do was pound on the sides of the porta potty while I was in there.

Okay, it's embarrassing enough that I had the camping poops, but I know they all heard my not so silent business in there. Then I have to leave the john while they're all laughing so they can poke fun, and well, digested food doesn't smell like roses. When I stepped out, totally red-faced and rushing them off the truck before they inhaled, I noticed THE GUY I'd been flirting with the entire campout. Ya, the flirting stopped immediately after that.

All this combined with the fact I was terrified of the thing tipping off the back of the truck while I was in there and suffocating me in crap, made porta potties my absolute number one fear. I spent way too much time in them on that trip, and never ever ever ever again. I will pee on the side of the road before I enter one of these.


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

An Uppercut to the Nuts

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 15: Oompa Loompas


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 5



This is a hereditary fear I believe. Both of my sisters and myself have to hide our faces during Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory when the song starts to play.

Don't even start singing it, I will smack you!

Okay, these 'people' have orange faces, green hair, and white eyebrows. Not to mention they cart kids away and you never see them again! (PS, I'm talking the original movie here. The Oompa Loompas in the Tim Burton version did not creep me out. Nor did those songs.)

I have to give myself props though. Growing up, a few friends knew this fear of mine and one of their brothers dressed up as an oompa loompa for Halloween. He kept singing to me and had me cowering in the corner till I'd had enough.

I socked him straight in the balls.

He keeled over and started crying, and ya, I had the poor kid afraid of ME for the rest of high school. (Yes high school. Do not judge.)

Oompa loompas went down on the scary scale for me since that event. Though I'm not sure I can say the same for my sisters. :)

PS: will be posting today at the DOJO. And I have to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone who follows my posting at this blog and the other two I contribute to. I really appreciate your support! (Ya, I'm getting a little sappy today.)

Monday, April 16, 2012

My Power Bill is Higher than Yours

Day 14: Nighttime 

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 10!

Before everyone tells me how beautiful night is and how peaceful and stuff like that, I totally agree with you. But it doesn't make my fear of the dark any easier.


Crap happens in the dark. I’m not kidding, dude. Socks under the bed become feet monsters. Clothes hanging in the closet become people without heads. Anything that moves or makes a sound becomes someone or something coming to eat you in your sleep. Power outages suck.

I have 5 nightlights in my house. One in the hallway by my bedroom. One in the kids’ room. One in the kitchen. One in the hallway downstairs in the basement. One in the bathroom in the basement. And even with the nightlights, I use the glow of my cell to get around the house when I’m making it from one light switch to another in the middle of the night.

Also, when I turn off the lights behind me, my pace gets quicker the darker it gets. I know I look like a fool running from an invisible monster, but hey… that’s where my imagination takes me.

As for going potty in the dark? Um, not happening.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

My Mouth Needs a Filter

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 13: Man Boobs Whoops! Nope, I'll be talking about Man Boobs on my other blog, not this one. ;)

Let's try again...

Day 13: Myself.

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: Um, can't decide because it depends on the time of the month.

WARNING: If you can't handle sex talk, you may want to stop reading right now.

Gosh, how do I explain my fear of myself? Well, if you don't already know, I'm a bit of a personality. The hubs swears it is my life goal to embarrass him every time we are in public.

It's not like I mean to. I just don't have a filter when I get uber excited. (You guys are all thinking dirty aren't you cuz of my disclaimer. I'm not talking about THAT kind of excited.)

The hubs and I hardly ever get to go out, so when we do, this is me:

YAY! WAHOO! SWEET! NO KIDS! NO RESPONSIBILITIES! FOOD I DON'T HAVE TO COOK!

This is just an hour or two away from home. And yes, I act like a 16 year old out on a date with her boyfriend.

A few weeks ago, hubs and I got to spend a night away from home. A. Whole. Night. Away.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, remember, I have no filter when I get excited about something. We booked a night at the Anniversary Inn. Let me take you through the dialog when we checked in.

We walk in...

Me: Oh my gosh! They have cookies!

Hubs: I'm not sure those are for us. (stifles laughter)

Receptionist: Yes they are, go right ahead.

Me: They're chocolate chip! Your favorite! (shoves cookie in hub's face)

Hubs: No thanks.

Receptionist: Can I get the name you're reservation is under?

Hubs: (Gives last name)

Me: We're in the room with the motorcycle!

Receptionist: Oh, I have it as a surprise. Is it not?

Hubs: She booked the hotel under my name and said it was a surprise so she could act excited. (rolls his eyes at me.)

Me: Whoops, I forgot about that.

Receptionist: Okay, so your room comes with dinner. What time would you like it?

Me: As soon as possible.

Hubs: You hungry?

Me: No, but I don't want them walking in on us naked, and I want to get naked like... as soon as we can.

I'm pretty sure hub's face turned as red as the shirt he was wearing while the receptionist just laughed. As for me, I said, "What? This is the Anniversary Inn. It's like THE advertisement for sex."

Hubs: Cassie! Stop!

Receptionist: (sets key in hub's hand) We'll have your dinner brought to your room in about twenty minutes. (Looks at me with a huge smile) Think you can wait that long?

Me: I'm pretty sure we can crank one out in twenty minutes. You got robes in there, right?

Hubs: (drags me from the lobby as I reach for another cookie. He calls over his shoulder at the receptionist.) Uh, ya, twenty minutes is fine. Thank you.

We get outside.

Me: Oh gosh, I'm SO EXCITED!

Hubs: Really? I couldn't tell.

After the excitement wore off, which wasn't till I was back at home and vaca. was over, I realize just how embarrassing I am to be with, lol.

Anyways, my point? I'm not sure if I were to meet myself whether I would laugh or run away.

Friday, April 13, 2012

I'm Peeing in the Rain

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day uh... is it 12 now?: Lightning


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 6

First off, I need to go back and learn my ABC's. I totally had M scheduled for today and L was nowhere to be found. Funny thing, when I made the schedule for the group blog I contribute to, I missed M.

Maybe my four-year-old can teach me the song again. Oi.

Anyways, I'm about to tell an embarrassing story. This is up there with my G-string blush-capade.

I like to run around in the rain. I still do, it's way too much fun to give up doing this, but this one episode made me hesitant for a while.

This happened to be one of those rainstorms I wasn't alone for. (Of course, cuz I never do embarrassing things when I'm by myself.) Me and the best bud were running around the front yard making fools of ourselves when...

CRACK! BOOM!

Not even kidding, lightning and thunder right on top of each other.

Now, the thunder made me jump, but it was the five inches from the giant bolt of electricity that made me whiz myself. Yes, I peed my pants in the middle of the front yard in front of my best friend.

At least I was already wet, right?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Don't you dare push me on stage!

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 11: Karaoke


Rate on scary scale from 1-10: 9

Not many people know this about me, and those that do probably don't know how much I try to keep it on the DL, but I ahem... I sing. I'm not saying I'm good or anything, certainly no Kelley Lynn, but I can bust out a tune...

But only in front of people I don't know.

Weird thing, I can't sing for any of my friends or family. Something in my voicebox shuts down and I freeze. The only time my friends or family have heard me sing is in the car or the shower. (Or in the church pew behind them.)

So the thought of doing Karaoke with a bunch of friends terrifies the crap out of me. And ya, I've been asked a few times and I always chicken out. I'm totally up for humiliating myself in front of a whole bunch of people. I do that all the time and don't care, but they are asking me to sing like for real for real.

Can't do it.


In high school I actually went to audition for the musical and ran off the stage. No kidding. I bolted from the auditorium when the music started playing. Bawled my eyes out in the bathroom and never auditioned for another play. (I did get a role in one of them. Story about that HERE.)

Trying to explain this fear is hard for me. I sing, but not for people I know. Why? Hmmm... to explain why I don't in front of my family is easy. I come from a very musically talented fam. and they are all so much better than I am, lol. As for in front of my friends or even my husband, I can't explain it at all. I'm just scared.


Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Why does it move by itself?

Doing my fears this month in case you missed day one.

Day 10: Jell-O (yes, I'm serious)


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 2

Before you guys start thinking I'm crazy... no wait, you probably already think that. Hmm... nevermind.

Jell-O more or less fascinates me and freaks me out all at the same time. Any of you seen Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs? HILARIOUS movie, but that one scene when they play in the big Jell-O mold kinda scares me.

You're all laughing aren't you? I'm laughing at myself! But like, the girl does a cannonball into the Jell-O and totally gets stuck there. How does she get out???? It never shows it! She does... I mean, this is a kid's show, but how??? Seems to me more like something off of Final Destination.

Death by Jell-O.


That and I don't know how it works. Like how is a solid and a liquid? And why the heck does it move without you even touching it? Yipes!

Now, it's low on the scary scale because I can eat it and bam, problem solved. Best way to eat Jell-O? Sucking it through a straw. Yes, I still do that as an adult. I also blow bubbles in my chocolate milk. Don't judge.

Okay, so I'm posting in two places again today. If you'd like to see my post on jealousy (I totally sang that as I typed it.) travel to THIS HERE LINK. (I said that with an accent. I write all my posts out loud. Again, no judging!)


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

I should really move to Hawaii

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 9: Ice


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 5

Between today's post and yesterday's, you guys will all start thinking I'm just one big klutz who falls a lot.

Well, you'd be right. It's genetic. (Thanks, Mom.)

I hope you all know I'm not talking about a piece of ice someone shoves down your shirt or your pants, I'm talking icicles and (big gulp) black ice.

Black ice is not a friend to those of us who manage to fall off flip flops.

What I hate about black ice is it's so sneaky. Like, you don't know if you're coming up on black ice or water. So, me being someone who doesn't like to fall on my butt, I treat every wet spot and puddle as if it's black ice.

The hubs will speed walk through a parking lot without even looking (or slipping). Me, I can be as careful as can be and I manage to find the one patch of ice and slip on it.

Not only do I slip, I yelp, drawing all attention to my clumsiness.


And icicles... so beautiful. I love them from a distance. Because have you ever heard the horror stories of those things impaling oblivious victims? *shudders*

Oh, and just a reminder of the group blog I blog at Falling For Fiction. I'll be posting over there today as well if you have time to stop by, I'd appreciate it!

Monday, April 9, 2012

I Need an Extendo Grabber

Doing my fears this month in case you missed day one.

Day 8: Heights


Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 10!!

First, before I dive into my fear of heights, I wanna thank Alex for spotlighting me for his letter G. (I totally had to look up what gregarious meant, haha! And I call myself a writer.) You rock my friend! But you already know that ;)

Okey Dokey, heights. I KNOW I'm not the only one with this fear, but here's how weird I am. I don't mind heights when I'm looking down. I just can't look up.

I've tried to explain this to people, but dude, they just look at me like I'm some wacko and walk away. But here we go.

So, I'm standing on something that isn't ground. Like a stairway, or a ladder, or a roof, or a mountain... ya, you get it. And as soon as I look up and see how close I am to the sky or ceiling I lose all sense of what I'm standing on and feel like I'm going to fall right off it. (Yes, stairs too.) I'm totally the person who will just scoot across a rickety bridge on their butt.


Now, I'm wishing I was a taller person, because I have to stand on chairs and get up on counters a lot to reach certain things in my cupboards. A few weeks ago I grabbed a chair so I could reach the cookies I hid on the top shelf so the hubs wouldn't eat them all. I'm shaking already as I stand on it, knowing I have to look up to get what I need.

For realz people, the second I looked up I jumped (like one of those shocked jumps when you just twitch really bad) and the chair slid out from under me and I plummeted comedy sketch style with the cookies strewn all over me and the floor.

You know what my darling son did? Came in and grabbed as many cookies as he could before I could stop him and bolted from the room.

I hide the cookies in the back of the silverware drawer now.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

String Up My Butt

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day 7: G-strings.

Rate on the scary scale: 3

Okay, so I'm about to give y'all a majorly embarrassing insight on yours truly. This is your DING DING. WARNING WARNING! TMI POST UP AHEAD!

You've decided to keep reading?

All right then.

This is not so much of a fear, but more like a traumatizing event on my 17 year old self. (Which is why it's so low on that scary scale.)

Thongs and G-strings became a very popular underwear when I was a teenager. I'm not sure if any of you are familiar with the phrase "Whale Tale" but that was like, the thing! (Underwear strings coming up over the pant line so you could totally tell what kind of underwear the girl was sporting when she sat down and her shirt came up to the middle of her back.)

Or His back ;)
Personally, I never understood the fad of having something jammed in your butt perma-wedgie style, but my friends were all into this thong thing. (I was no granny panties wear-er, but I won't get into what underwear I wore, for all your sakes.)

We were out shopping and found in the lingerie section (please don't ask why we were there) G-strings with boys names on them. Now, we all had boyfriends whose names were not original in the slightest. There was a John and a Dan, and of course my boyfriend's name. (Who is my hubby, so I'm going to be discreet here.) So we each found a pair that 'fit' us.

My friends thought this was like, the coolest thing! While I thought it was borderline creepy. I mean, this just lets them in your pants even more than they don't belong there (IMO). Why the heck would I buy these things?

Well, ahem... I did. This was my peer pressure moment.

First G-string I owned, and yes, I did wear them. Grew accustomed to them actually and pretty soon I was wearing nothing but thongs.

My family did not know about this, until my dog found a pair. (Why do they only go after underwear?) At that point I was laughed at by one of my sisters and then... yes, I was given the worst wedgie of my life.

People, she tore the waistband off these things. And can you guess which pair I was wearing?

Worst part? Boyfriend was over during this humiliation. And when I tossed them in the trash, he caught sight of his name, plastered in jewels all over the crotch of these panties.

Lessons I learned: Never give into peer pressure. Keep underwear away from the dog at all costs. And don't wear G-strings unless you plan on them coming off in a much sexier way.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Is there anyone in my backseat??

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day six: Fog

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10 (10 being the most freaked out): 7

You know, I had always thought fog was super cool. Till I read this short story.

Do any of you remember Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark? I have to be honest with you, the stories themselves didn't scare me as much as those creepy illustrations, but this story did.

It was called High Beams. Here's the breakdown for you. Girl hops in her car and heads home. She notices a truck pull up behind her and every so often the driver would flash his high beams at her. It was annoying so she tried doing odd turns and stuff to throw the driver off. But he kept following her, still flashing his highs on and off.

She pulls in her driveway and the driver follows her, highs on. She bolts inside and calls the police. Turns out there was a guy in the backseat of her car with a knife, and every time he'd pop up to kill her, the driver behind her would flash his highs.

Okay, so it's been about 10 years since I've read this, and I still remember it. Cuz it FREAKED ME OUT! What does this have to do with fog? Well, something in my brain triggers this story whenever I see fog. Maybe it's the picture or maybe it's the fact people use different lights when they drive during a fog, but you can bet I check my backseat every time someone uses their highs.

Also, there's just something so freaky about not being able to see what you're used to seeing when a fog comes rolling in. Anything can pop out and get you!

Thursday, April 5, 2012

2 AM Kiss with an Earwig

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day Five: Earwigs

Rate on the scary scale 1-10: 5
Did I gross anyone out with my title? Cuz that’s what happened.

A few years ago, me and the hubs lived in an apt (bottom floor). During the summer, we noticed a lot of bugs. Like there was this freaky flying massive spider bug thingy that flew at me when I pulled out the sugar from the top shelf. I never pulled anything off that shelf again!

I had to go with a cartoon earwig cuz the real ones gave me the creeps. Couldn't stand the pictures!

Anyways, if you get squeamish, I’m warning you right now… it’s about to get pretty gross. I’m getting all crazy nauseous writing this.

Went to bed, cuddled up with the hubs and got comfy cozy. It was late. I had just finished milking the baby and was dead beat. And I noticed some tingling going up and down my arms.

At first I thought it was the hubs waking up and caressing me which was cute and stuff so I let it go for a little bit, but then I felt it across my stomach.

Maybe it’s the sheets or something tickling me?

I adjust and turn over.

Then the tingling goes across my nose and on my lips.

I swipe at my face, thinking it’s hair.

You all know, it was NOT hair.

When I leaped out of bed and snapped on the light, the bed was covered in earwigs. Gross creepy, crawly, nasty earwigs. I’m screamin’ and the hubs is awake and shaking off his body and the bed sheets and dude… it was the grossest thing.

After we both checked the kids’ room and vacated our own, we tried to fall asleep in the living room, but I could not get the tingly feeling off me. Don’t worry. Exterminator came the next morning.

And since then, I’ve hated these suckers.

Ya, my mom once opened a peach and they exploded out of the middle like on The Mummy. I ran crying from the room.

Are you all afraid of earwigs now? Cuz I don’t blame ya if you are.

Oh! And I'm at the DOJO today too. Best thing about contributing to 3 blogs? Even though these are short posts, I'm still talking as much as I like to! hahahaha!

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Disappointment and Failure

I think it was fate that the IWSG and the letter D were scheduled on the same day.

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day four: Disappointment

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10: 9

Something I constantly worry about is failure. As a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a writer... those things always plague my mind when I feel I fall short of life's expectations. Or I guess the expectations I set for myself.

Whew! Here we go with the word vomit. Y'all cut me off at 500 words if I get that far!

Growing up, I never had to deal with failure really. I mean, I was a straight A student with a good group of friends and a strong family support. Heck, first boyfriend I got I married! Though I feel incredibly blessed to have had an easier childhood than most, I think it contributes to this fear of mine. Like, I've set the bar so high, what happens when I can't live up to it? How many people am I disappointing?

My husband. Because I'm too busy writing to pay him any attention?

My kids. Because I'm cleaning and cooking or blogging instead of playing with them?

My parents. Because I haven't achieved as much in life as maybe they'd hoped for me?

My siblings. Because I don't call or text them as often as I should?

My friends. Because I can't be there physically for them when they need me?

Myself. Because I'm not working hard enough to achieve my goals?

Sometimes I feel I've stretched myself beyond my capabilities, and because I can't do it all, everything starts to go to crap. And I'm leaving everyone I care about disappointed.

This scares me. Scares the crap-o-la out of me. Which is why it ranks so high on my scary scale. Because it's something I deal with daily. I'm not saying I need to be perfect. But I'm always worried that I could be so much BETTER.

Wowza! So didn't mean to be a miserable poo today, lol. Just one of dem insecurities and fears I gotta deal with. :)

And score! Kept the post short! I'm getting better at this, eh?

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

The Walls of People Are Closing In!

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day Three: Crowds

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10 (10 being the most freaked out): 6



I’m pretty sure I get this fear from my dad. But I get my love for being social from my mom. Yes, I’m a walking contradiction.

Like, there I am, humming along feeling nice and open and free, then suddenly someone bumps into me. No problem, it's all good. Happens all the time. 

Then another person rams into me. 

And another.

And another.

What the heck??  

Then suddenly I'm wedged between Smelly Man and Dorito Breath and I can't move. Because I've walked into a giant crowd. And who the crap knows what they are all excited about.  

Anxiety attacks start. Have. To. Move. NOW! Get to an open space with breathable air and somewhere I can pace.

Pace till I calm the freak down.

Do NOT like feeling trapped next to people I don't really know. I'm bound to touch something I don't want to touch.

Just looking at this gives me the heebees.

And this may surprise you, but though I am sociable, I am also very nervous in front of people. (Though I’ve been told I’m a good public speaker. Weird, I know.) So standing up in front of a crowd is no different than being in one for me. Doesn’t matter how many times I do get up (which happens more often than I’d like) the stomach knots and anxiety attacks begin. Can’t help it.

I also can’t explain this fear either. Nothing traumatizing occurred or anything, just born with it I guess.

(Thanks, Dad. ;) )

Also, I'm posting in two other places today. On my group blog Falling For Fiction and also Guest Posting at Emily Moir's blog. I know y'all are super pressed for time, but they are both A to Z posts! So they'll count toward your A to Z reading!!!

Monday, April 2, 2012

Gettin' Shot on the Pot

Doing my fears this month, in case you missed day one.

Day two:  

BATHROOMS

Rate on the scary scale from 1-10 (10 being the most freaked out): 10!!!

Oh gosh, I know most of you already know this fear of mine, but dude, I’m sayin’ it again. Because it is seriously my NUMBER ONE fear.

I can not do bathrooms. No way, no how.

I’m afraid of getting shot on the toilet more specifically. Now, let me clarify this fear of mine. I don’t care if they shoot me. That’s totally fine… as long as I’ve got my pants up. But if I’m found slumped over on the toilet, pants around the ankles… ya, that’s it.

Now, y’all know the expression, “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” Well, I don’t avoid bathrooms, obviously. But I have learned the art of the SPEED PEE. Also, learned the art of putting my feet up against the stall door so no one knows I’m in there. Ya, you just try and do that. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

This also means handicap stalls are off limits to this here speed pee-er.

How did I develop this fear you ask? I’m not sure if anyone knows this, but here we go…

We stopped at a gas station on a road trip once and you know, duty calls and had to empty. Well, I sit down and look at the wall next to me.

Holy crap! What the heck is that???

Bullet holes! I swear! Bullet holes right there by the toilet!!

Thankfully I was already sitting on the pot, since I peed myself right there. I could not stop the wild thoughts of, ‘Oh my gosh. What if someone found my body and I was on the toilet! With my pants down! That’s horrifying!’

Yes, I'm standing in this bathroom. Those stalls are WAY TOO SMALL!

Still can’t get those images out of my head. Call me strange, but dude, if I get shot on the toilet, I’m haunting you all and saying, “I told you so.”

Sunday, April 1, 2012

A is for...

And… the kick off! A to Z challenge starts today! Wahoo!

Okay, so I’ll be posting about my fears this month. Yeah, strap yourselves in for some interesting posts.

PS: If you so wish to continue to read my A to Z fears, I must warn you… esp. if you are a new follower, I tend to get a little uh… informative. I may become one of YOUR fears by the end of the month.

Okay, day one:

ALF

Rate on the scary scale (1-10, 10 being the most freaked out): 4


Was anyone else as creeped out by this guy as me?? Gosh, just lookin’ at his picture gives me chills. I had nightmares about him as a kid… like a LOT of nightmares. Allow me to quickly tell you a tale of a little girl who got chased by this monster in her dreams.

I’m running down a crazy distorted hallway, carrying my stuffed dolphin that was half my size and trying to scream but can’t find my voice. When I reach the end of the hallway, ALF comes up behind me and slaps a furry hand over my mouth and then drags me to the dinosaur pit.

And when I say dinosaur pit, I mean a pit full of meat-eating dinosaurs. (Another one of my fears.) Anyway, ALF feeds me to the dinosaur and I wake up crying.

Nope, can’t do it. I know he’s supposed to be this friendly thing, but no no no no!

Anyone else scared of him? Would you be if he tried to feed you to dinosaurs??
 

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