More creepy things.

I've never been afraid of bugs or worms.  The only exception is the world famous centipede (actually, not afraid but creeped out).  If you haven't heard, here's my story about that.

We just got back from a vacation in Mexico.  I had a strange encounter there that has made me realize that I might be am turning into a wuss!  I AM afraid of crawly things.

While sitting on a lounge chair next to the pool, I put a foot down to get up and saw a crab looking up at me from the concrete.  I yanked my foot back up onto the chair and watched his every move.  I was so afraid that he'd climb up there and bite me with his pinchers.  He was only about 3 inches across but in my moment of fear, I estimated that he was about 3 FEET across! 

I watched as he scooted towards my beach bag and then was scared terrified that he crawled in there.  I finally picked it up and shook it to make sure it was safe (holding the corners with my fingertips like you'd pick up a dirty Kleenex).  I called out to Angry who was in the pool to see if he could spot the little bugger.  He confirmed that he was nowhere to be seen.

A day later, we were eating dinner at the outdoor restaurant.  Angry looked at me funny while shaking his foot and said, "Must be a bug crawling on me."  He looked down and said, "It's a crab!  Is that your crab?"  I looked over the side of the table and there was my friend nemesis from the pool!!

Evil. Pure evil. Those eyes say he wants to bite me!

I jerked my feet up from the ground and told Angry to “make him go away.”  Instead, he turned on the camera and started taking pictures!!  He actually followed him as he ran across the restaurant.  Mr. Crabby finally wedged himself between a chair leg and a wall and I felt safe enough to put my feet down and finish dinner.  Whew, disaster avoided!

Our waiter laughed and offered to catch and have him cooked for us to enjoy at dinner.  We declined the offer.  Everyone had a great laugh and I continued to make sure he was far away from my feet.

Why the fear?  I don’t have a clue.  But I can assure you that if that son of a bitch had been crawling on MY foot, I would have screamed the a little school girl and kicked my leg so hard that he would have landed in the next century.

Was he stalking me?  Why show up at the pool and then at dinner?  Would he try to get on the elevator and follow me to my room?  I imagined a knock on the door and hearing, “Room Service.”  (Anyone remember the Land Shark skit on Saturday Night Live?)  Would he try to get into my suitcase and follow me home?

I know, I know.  We were actually kidding and laughing at the thought of his trying to get on the elevator but I was scared of him.

Do I need some sort of therapy?  I don’t think so.  Just keep those creepy crawlies away from me and I'll be fine.

 

What the hell was I thinking?

I’m four years old. 

I’m sitting in front of some Bugs Bunny cartoons with a coloring book and crayons.

I rip a strip of paper from one of the pages and roll it into a tube shape.  I push that tube up my right nostril. 

It hurts and panic sets it!  I run to my Grandma and tell her what I did.  She tries to pull it out with a pair of tweezers.  That doesn’t work because I SHOVED that paper up there as far as it would go.

Both of us are in a panic now.  What to do, what to do?

She thinks for a minute while I cry.

She goes to the spice cabinet and grabs the pepper.  A handful is blown into my face.

Sneezing ensues.  Snot is everywhere!  The tube of paper eventually flies out and lands several feel away.

Success!!

What the hell was I thinking when I did that?  What outcome did I expect?  I can assure you that I never tried that again!

I gotta pee!

Angry wants me to tell you about a little "issue" I seem to have.

Every time we go out for dinner or drinks, the same conversation takes place.  It usually begins when we are about half way home:

ME:  Guess what?

Angry:  Let me think; you have to pee?

ME:  YES!

Angry:  Why don't you ever go before we leave?

ME:  I did!

Angry:  I think you went about an hour ago.  That doesn't count.

ME:  Hurry up and drive as fast as you can without getting a ticket.

Angry (with a very heavy sigh):  I'll do my best.

ME (every time the car hits a pothole or bump):  Don't do that! I'm gonna pee my pants.

Angry:  I can't avoid every friggin' bump or pothole.  You should have gone before we left.

When we get home, Angry has to bolt our garage door and then unbolt and unlock the back door.

While this is going on, I'm standing on the back porch.  Well, not standing.  I'm actually doing a dance jig to try and keep from peeing my pants.  The rest of the conversation always goes like this:

ME:  COME OOOOOONNNNN!  I gotta pee!!

Angry:  Maybe you should bring your keys with you so you don't have to wait for me.

ME:  You go slow on purpose. (I actually think he does.  He's usually dropping his keys or looking at something in the yard.)

Angry:  I'm going as fast as I can.

ME (as he unlocks the door):  Get out of the way! 

Angry (as I'm pushing past him to get into the house):  Geez . . . you'd think you'd learn.

This conversation happens EVERY time, without fail.  I don’t learn.
 
Maybe I’m the martyr of pee?

The maple kind? Yeah!

This is some funny shit.  I stole it from one of my favorite bloggers, Rachel Lucas (she's in my reading list if you want to check her out).

Boogie in the parking lot!

In my city (as I’m sure it is in yours), we have many people that drive their cars around with the music turned up way TOO LOUD.  It's so loud that when I'm in my house the pictures on the walls rattle.  Unfortunately, the music is often some sort of rap or hip hop.  This is not a critique of that type of music.  What causes the problem is that it is heavy with bass and this is what rattles everything from pictures on the wall to my brain.

When I was leaving work a while ago, I got off the elevator in the parking structure and I could hear music.  Mind you, the elevator bank is inside a small "room" and enclosed by glass doors.  This music was pretty loud for me to hear it in there.

When I walked out towards my car, I could hear that it was a Beatles song (Back in the USSR if I remember right).  I noticed a lady who must have been in her 60s "dancing" in her car seat as she listened to the song.

I have to admit, I found it quite charming!!  Of course, I like the Beatles and was sort of doing a "boogie" of my own as I walked to my car.  And, my brain wasn’t rattling.