I am not scared to eat weird things. I once ate a mopani worm in the middle of Zimbabwe just to prove that I could. I also took the stage in front of several hundred grossed out 13 year olds in order to eat a cockroach. I ate wildebeest and still swear it was awesome. I, in fact, revel in eating in weird things.
I am not scared to speak in public. I have delivered grand speeches to hundreds of people at a time – in costume no less! I have competed in both impromptu speaking and debate. I have WON those competitions with poise.
I am not scared of the dark.
According to the internet thing some people are afraid of peanut butter getting stuck to the roof of their mouth. I am not even scared of that!
I am however terrified – terrified – of flying things. I don’t like them at all.
Like really. Flying has to be the worst thing an animal could possibly do! They are right next to you one minute, and that’s all cool and everything. But then BAM! They could be ANYWHERE the next second. I hate that so much! I think this might be due to my love of planning.
I plan everything.
Like my iCal goes all the way to August of 2012 already. Did I mention I plan everything? My iCal has blibs of “go here” for everything from class to teaching to work to phone calls to nail salon trips. I really like to know what is about to happen. No surprises, please. They are not okay. Surprises mean I might go into an involuntary coronary (because there are voluntary coronaries?), poop my pants, and become something vaguely resembling a retarded slug.
So when a bird, for example, has the audacity to feel like it can flutter away whenever it darn well pleases, it sends my heart into arrhythmias, and I resort to my evolutionary instincts much like any other time I am scared (Please see post “BOOM!”). I get LOW!
I flatten out on the ground and hope that whatever it is that is threatening my sanity (or my current hairdo) will go away quickly without touching me.
And this reaction really gets in the way of life.
Walking with my friend in down-town University-town from an awesome comedy club – pigeon flies at me? I immediately go from a happy, upright human to a flailing mass going into a full on dive to the beloved ground.
Walking to class and birds flutter out of the trees all at once? I give it such a wide girth that I am positive I am miles away, and in the confusion I lose the very little sense of direction I have. (Birds, in case you were wondering, are not an appropriate excuse for tardiness.)
But really these birds on campus and even the buzzing flies in this apartment that I am currently glaring at do not sum up next to possibly one of the worst experiences of my young life. No, my parents’ lives were not threatened by charging rhinos… and I wasn’t diagnosed with not debilitating illness… Our house became infested one summer with those horrible, evil, blind, dumb japanese ladybugs.
I KNOW! (Kids, you may want to stop reading. This is about to get gruesome.)
These things look like ladybugs but instead of being cute and awesome (at least in cartoons) they have defense mechanisms that are GROSS and line up in grotesque masses of nastiness anywhere they can.The ceiling. The floor boards. The tables. The windows. THEY GET INTO EVERYTHING! ….and they fly. I also learned they are blind, so they fly into things.
Really… they are just grumpy ladybugs.
So keeping all this in mind there was a night where I was eating food while watching TV, sitting on the floor. I was a young lass at the time, so I’m sure I was watching the 42nd episode of Sponge Bob that day or something of the like, and the stupid ladybug-wannabes kept flying INTO MY HEAD!
No joke. They were flying at me. LIKE KAMIKAZE LADYBUGS FROM HELL!
I began to cower.
I began to wave my arms wildly and scream for them to go away.
Finally I was reduced to a flattened, hysterical, crying child – demanding our family move away from this certain hell on earth.
Eventually summer ended, but I was forever scarred by all my fears about flying things coming true. Flying at me. Touching me. Somewhere one second. My head the next.
Like I said… I don’t like flying things.