You know that uncomfortable feeling that there is something HORRIBLY wrong with your car, and you are pretty sure that you know what it is and that your car will be stuck in the shop for no less than a month and cost you roughly 5.2 million dollars to fix...I am having that feeling.
:(
So in my infinite ability to procrastinate doing any kind of painful activity (such as taking my car to the shop, going to the dentist, or going anywhere near a mall at Christmas time) ... I have put myself to a challenge...
How many different techniques can I use to not have to use my brakes to slow down my car. Thereby avoiding completely the unpleasant and wincing sound of the grinding of metal (where my brake pads used to be) against the very costly (roughly 5.2 million dollar) rotars.
Because certainly if I can avoid hearing the noise, then there is nothing really wrong with my car and absolutely no reason what-so-ever for me to have to take it into the shop and spend 5.2 million dollars.
I can accept that challenge! Bring it on! Sacrifices may have to be made ...
And one of those sacrifices is speed, I usually drive fast but not anymore because if I drive fast then I would have to use my non-existent brakes to slow me down. (Not an option) But by going slowly I can just take my foot off the gas and let the car coast to a stop. Nice!
Downhill slopes present a unique challenge, because let's face it - gravity works (a very hard lesson for me in my younger years - see "Learning to Fly" or "Me and Gravity"). So I have taken to down-shifting, even though I drive an automatic car, and letting the transmission slow the car down - compensating for my lack of brake pads. Good!
Curves can also be a useful car-slowing ally, the more curves in the road the greater amounts of momentum you will lose. Perfect!
Just a small warning here - beware of the curvy but downhill routes, w-a-y too dangerous and it forces you to make very tricky decisions, like:
- Do I grind the brakes further which will now cost me 6.4 million dollars to fix?
or
- Do I careen off the road and attempt to slalom through the trees in hopes of finding one that is both large enough to stop my car but small enough not to destroy it??
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Yes, Yes, I Know it is Terrible
Yes, I fully understand that this is terrible, but I am sure that some of you have wondered the same thing too...
Do deaf people talk to themselves?
I talk to myself ALL the time, what do they do?
Do they sign to themselves? What would that look like I wonder?
If they do have a conversation in their head - do they just see the words like reading a book? Because how would you talk to yourself in your head if you had never heard your own voice and do not use words that way?
Just was a very random thought and I do not know anyone to ask without coming across as crass or insensitive.
I think it is highly possible that I have had too much 'me' time lately and I need to get out more.
Do deaf people talk to themselves?
I talk to myself ALL the time, what do they do?
Do they sign to themselves? What would that look like I wonder?
If they do have a conversation in their head - do they just see the words like reading a book? Because how would you talk to yourself in your head if you had never heard your own voice and do not use words that way?
Just was a very random thought and I do not know anyone to ask without coming across as crass or insensitive.
I think it is highly possible that I have had too much 'me' time lately and I need to get out more.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Ten Things to Aviod
I was just pondering some things, that really, I wish I had avoided in my younger days. This is certainly NOT a comprehensive list...
1 - do not get mad at your older brother and sit on his favorite toy and break it, a sea plane - because apparently they NEVER made anymore of the crazy things because it was absolutely impossible to replace, I have not been able to find another one ever!!
(and the tendrils of guilt still linger...many years later)
2 - do not shave your eyebrows
(but come to think of it now, I did that WAY before 'The Wall" by Pink Floyd...Awesome-I am a trend-setter!...ok, maybe not...)
3 - do not try to curl your three-feet of hair with your mother's spiky-hot rollers
(which will leave you with only 6" of hair and much weeping)
4 - do not sit down and eat the entire contents of your Halloween basket within one hour of getting back from trick-or-treating
(you don't want to know - trust me)
5 - do not ride your bike under the clothes line beside the very prickly holly bush - forgetting that you are shorter when you are just running under the clothes line, than you are when you are on the bike...and then being swept off your bike and falling backwards into the afore mentioned prickly holly bush.
6 - do not talk your older brother into running away from home, with no clothes, no food, and worst of all...no teddy bear!
7 - do not step on a lizard's tail while in the process of trying to catch him, because it means being traumatized by his tail popping off and only the front half of him running away!
8 - do not slide down the stairs on:
a large piece of cardboard
your sled (no matter how well you wax the blades...really, take my word for it)
the vacuum cleaner (ok, that one was purely accidental)
9 - do not forget to put the straps to your bathing suit back on before playing in the particularly rough surf of NC - only to have the whole thing fall off as you are stepping onto the beach and get slammed by a wave - in front of the very cute boy that you are trying to impress...yeah you really do not want to do that...
10 - do not make the mistake of thinking that you are going to be able to do all of the awesome things that your older brother gets to do in boy scouts...if...you join the girl scouts...
seriously - cookies!!! my brother never had to sell cookies!! (ok, the coconut ones rock! but still!!)
and can someone please tell me what the hell the point of macrame is!?!
1 - do not get mad at your older brother and sit on his favorite toy and break it, a sea plane - because apparently they NEVER made anymore of the crazy things because it was absolutely impossible to replace, I have not been able to find another one ever!!
(and the tendrils of guilt still linger...many years later)
2 - do not shave your eyebrows
(but come to think of it now, I did that WAY before 'The Wall" by Pink Floyd...Awesome-I am a trend-setter!...ok, maybe not...)
3 - do not try to curl your three-feet of hair with your mother's spiky-hot rollers
(which will leave you with only 6" of hair and much weeping)
4 - do not sit down and eat the entire contents of your Halloween basket within one hour of getting back from trick-or-treating
(you don't want to know - trust me)
5 - do not ride your bike under the clothes line beside the very prickly holly bush - forgetting that you are shorter when you are just running under the clothes line, than you are when you are on the bike...and then being swept off your bike and falling backwards into the afore mentioned prickly holly bush.
6 - do not talk your older brother into running away from home, with no clothes, no food, and worst of all...no teddy bear!
7 - do not step on a lizard's tail while in the process of trying to catch him, because it means being traumatized by his tail popping off and only the front half of him running away!
8 - do not slide down the stairs on:
a large piece of cardboard
your sled (no matter how well you wax the blades...really, take my word for it)
the vacuum cleaner (ok, that one was purely accidental)
9 - do not forget to put the straps to your bathing suit back on before playing in the particularly rough surf of NC - only to have the whole thing fall off as you are stepping onto the beach and get slammed by a wave - in front of the very cute boy that you are trying to impress...yeah you really do not want to do that...
10 - do not make the mistake of thinking that you are going to be able to do all of the awesome things that your older brother gets to do in boy scouts...if...you join the girl scouts...
seriously - cookies!!! my brother never had to sell cookies!! (ok, the coconut ones rock! but still!!)
and can someone please tell me what the hell the point of macrame is!?!
Larger than Life
When I was a child I was often in trouble with my mother, who was less than enthusiastic about my 'adventurous' spirit. So it fell to my father to act as a buffer between the two of us.
One of these times was in our very 70's kitchen with yellow walls, harvest gold kitchen appliances, and brown-gold-orange carpet...quick question, who puts carpet in a kitchen??
but i digress.
We were all around the dinner table, my father, my older brother, and me - while my mother was doing something over at the stove...and fussing at me over something (she fussed a lot so I have absolutely no memory of what it was about)
So my father in an effort to diffuse the mounting situation pulled the two - three foot tall carved wooden spoon and fork off of the wall behind him and began pretending to eat his dinner with them.
I fell out into peels of laughter which made my mother turn around sharply, at which point my father hastily dropped the large wooden utensils under the table and out of sight. My mother glared at me - telling me to behave and my father winked. Three times this happened until, my mother, losing her rather thin tether on patience threatened me with going to bed without any more dinner. So I stared down at my plate, trying really hard to not look at my father again.
But it was just irresistible, it was hilarious to me.
I looked...
And was completely lost in giggles to the point where I started bubbling the milk, that I had taken a drink of before I looked at him, out my nose. This made my older brother, who was usually pretty stoic, start to laugh...
and then it happened
my mother turned
with a 'Matrix' like speed and stealth
and caught my father
fork and spoon
in hand...
they just stared at each other...
my brother and I didn't even breath...
you could have cut the air with a three-foot carved wooden knife
then
my father grinned - a super big cheesy grin
my mother's lips quivered as she tried not to laugh and be serious, she failed.
The entire room erupted in laughter and I was forgiven for my lack of manners at the dinner table.
One of these times was in our very 70's kitchen with yellow walls, harvest gold kitchen appliances, and brown-gold-orange carpet...quick question, who puts carpet in a kitchen??
but i digress.
We were all around the dinner table, my father, my older brother, and me - while my mother was doing something over at the stove...and fussing at me over something (she fussed a lot so I have absolutely no memory of what it was about)
So my father in an effort to diffuse the mounting situation pulled the two - three foot tall carved wooden spoon and fork off of the wall behind him and began pretending to eat his dinner with them.
I fell out into peels of laughter which made my mother turn around sharply, at which point my father hastily dropped the large wooden utensils under the table and out of sight. My mother glared at me - telling me to behave and my father winked. Three times this happened until, my mother, losing her rather thin tether on patience threatened me with going to bed without any more dinner. So I stared down at my plate, trying really hard to not look at my father again.
But it was just irresistible, it was hilarious to me.
I looked...
And was completely lost in giggles to the point where I started bubbling the milk, that I had taken a drink of before I looked at him, out my nose. This made my older brother, who was usually pretty stoic, start to laugh...
and then it happened
my mother turned
with a 'Matrix' like speed and stealth
and caught my father
fork and spoon
in hand...
they just stared at each other...
my brother and I didn't even breath...
you could have cut the air with a three-foot carved wooden knife
then
my father grinned - a super big cheesy grin
my mother's lips quivered as she tried not to laugh and be serious, she failed.
The entire room erupted in laughter and I was forgiven for my lack of manners at the dinner table.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Me and Gravity
My foray into unfortunate experiences with gravity did not end with my swan dive off of my bed (see "Learning to Fly" post). Unfortunately for some of us (ok...me) the idea of one failure doesn't really transfer to other situations as well as it probably should. The thoughts of wanting to soar free and fly never actually left me, in spite of the whole Peter Pan 'incident'.
At eight years old, (four years is a l-o-n-g time at that age and things are easy to forget) I was a swing fanatic - absolutely crazy about it. The wind in your face and blowing your hair, that split second of free-fall when you are dropping, and then at the highest point of swinging forward - you jump out. Leaving the security of the swing, of being attached to anything, free to glide through the air - fantastic!
Swings were my favorite thing on the playground and we were really good friends, or so I thought...
The only thing that rivaled jumping from the swing was to get it going as high as possible and then holding on tight, and leaning all the way back in the swing and letting the world turn up-side-down. Ahhh - watching the world swish by, feeling my hair flow down (I should mention here that I had really long hair at the time). It was wonderful, the freedom, the fun, nothing was so wondrously relaxing and deliciously liberating, perfection...
until...
The chain on one side of the swing breaks, while you are up-side-down, eight feet in the air, and...
you fall
straight
down
on your
head
in gravel...
I ripped an entire chunk of hair out of the top of my head, like a reverse mohawk. I looked like I had been scalped, badly, with a stripe down the center of my head, totally bare and bleeding profusly...
I whimpered my way, slightly dazed and definitely shook up, to the school nurse - who had to fight between sympathy and laughter - as she wiped at my tears and the blood that stained my face with a clean towel. I tried desperately not to cry as she picked gravel out of the top of my head.
And if that was not enough - then the hair started to grow back...spikey, short, and standing STRAIGHT up for the the next two months...
Oh yeah, I was stunning.
At eight years old, (four years is a l-o-n-g time at that age and things are easy to forget) I was a swing fanatic - absolutely crazy about it. The wind in your face and blowing your hair, that split second of free-fall when you are dropping, and then at the highest point of swinging forward - you jump out. Leaving the security of the swing, of being attached to anything, free to glide through the air - fantastic!
Swings were my favorite thing on the playground and we were really good friends, or so I thought...
The only thing that rivaled jumping from the swing was to get it going as high as possible and then holding on tight, and leaning all the way back in the swing and letting the world turn up-side-down. Ahhh - watching the world swish by, feeling my hair flow down (I should mention here that I had really long hair at the time). It was wonderful, the freedom, the fun, nothing was so wondrously relaxing and deliciously liberating, perfection...
until...
The chain on one side of the swing breaks, while you are up-side-down, eight feet in the air, and...
you fall
straight
down
on your
head
in gravel...
I ripped an entire chunk of hair out of the top of my head, like a reverse mohawk. I looked like I had been scalped, badly, with a stripe down the center of my head, totally bare and bleeding profusly...
I whimpered my way, slightly dazed and definitely shook up, to the school nurse - who had to fight between sympathy and laughter - as she wiped at my tears and the blood that stained my face with a clean towel. I tried desperately not to cry as she picked gravel out of the top of my head.
And if that was not enough - then the hair started to grow back...spikey, short, and standing STRAIGHT up for the the next two months...
Oh yeah, I was stunning.
Learning to Fly (or Lessons in Gravity)
When I was four years old (and even still) I was very adventurous, unafraid of heights, bold, and fearless. So when I saw "Peter Pan" on the Disney channel (this was pre-cable, you had to actually watch it on the "Wonderful World of Disney", Sunday nights, 7:00pm - Awesome!) it sparked a new idea...
Flight! Unfettered adventure!
Where I could explore endlessly and my mother would never be able to catch me, and hence stop me. Many of my earthbound adventures were thwarted by,
"No, you may not climb your dresser."
"No, don't hang from that."
"What ARE you doing on the roof!!"
So, you can understand why flight held such appeal.
But, back to the Disney movie, I was delighted by the images of flying around the city, over ponds, through clouds - sign me up!
I pondered my timing, when was I least likely to get caught so that I had enough time to get airbourne and sweep, like Peter, through the window and out of the house. My mother vacuumed everyday (and I just need to add here - yikes - why would you want to do that...) and it provided me with the perfect time for my experiments and adventures, in flight...stair surfing...how much Mr. Bubble does it take to overflow the bathtub, important stuff!
While she was vacuuming I would have at least 30 minutes before she would come and check on me, perfect.
After a series of test jumps on my bed, for the proper height and trajectory, I felt that I was ready. I checked that I had pulled the curtains back far enough to not interfere with an easy exit out the window (no ones wants to get stuck in the curtains on their first flight). I climbed back onto the bed, I was a very small child at four, so I did literially have to climb onto the bed. I took three successively larger jumps, each one higher and stronger than the one before, armed myself with a zillion 'happy thoughts' because that is crucial to flight, confident and smiling, I launched - arms spread wide (because that is what Peter Pan did!)
Ready to soar out the window
Fly over the tree tops
Spin through the clouds - Yes!!!!
-WHAM-
spread eagle, face first belly flop on the floor of my room - so confident in my success that I did not even attempt to stop myself
-WHAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!-
My mother comes rushing into the room and picks me up off the floor, blood is pouring everywhere...
I don't really remember anything else from that day, except for being horribly disappointed that Peter Pan lied to me and 'happy thoughts' didn't work AT ALL!
That is when my older brother came to remind me "It's not going to work without 'pixie dust' silly."
Nuts!
I am still looking for Tinkerbell!!
Flight! Unfettered adventure!
Where I could explore endlessly and my mother would never be able to catch me, and hence stop me. Many of my earthbound adventures were thwarted by,
"No, you may not climb your dresser."
"No, don't hang from that."
"What ARE you doing on the roof!!"
So, you can understand why flight held such appeal.
But, back to the Disney movie, I was delighted by the images of flying around the city, over ponds, through clouds - sign me up!
I pondered my timing, when was I least likely to get caught so that I had enough time to get airbourne and sweep, like Peter, through the window and out of the house. My mother vacuumed everyday (and I just need to add here - yikes - why would you want to do that...) and it provided me with the perfect time for my experiments and adventures, in flight...stair surfing...how much Mr. Bubble does it take to overflow the bathtub, important stuff!
While she was vacuuming I would have at least 30 minutes before she would come and check on me, perfect.
After a series of test jumps on my bed, for the proper height and trajectory, I felt that I was ready. I checked that I had pulled the curtains back far enough to not interfere with an easy exit out the window (no ones wants to get stuck in the curtains on their first flight). I climbed back onto the bed, I was a very small child at four, so I did literially have to climb onto the bed. I took three successively larger jumps, each one higher and stronger than the one before, armed myself with a zillion 'happy thoughts' because that is crucial to flight, confident and smiling, I launched - arms spread wide (because that is what Peter Pan did!)
Ready to soar out the window
Fly over the tree tops
Spin through the clouds - Yes!!!!
-WHAM-
spread eagle, face first belly flop on the floor of my room - so confident in my success that I did not even attempt to stop myself
-WHAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!-
My mother comes rushing into the room and picks me up off the floor, blood is pouring everywhere...
I don't really remember anything else from that day, except for being horribly disappointed that Peter Pan lied to me and 'happy thoughts' didn't work AT ALL!
That is when my older brother came to remind me "It's not going to work without 'pixie dust' silly."
Nuts!
I am still looking for Tinkerbell!!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Musings from the Dating Impaired-Part 3
Wouldn't it be helpful if people came with warning labels like they put on beer and cigarettes?
"Warning: completely psychotic, juvenile rebel, who drinks too much and smokes pot."
or
"Warning: hopelessly unemployed couch potato who will never lift a finger to take out the trash, do laundry, or get the car fixed."
At least then you could make an informed decision, just like on a bag of chips
- Yeah, I am okay with consuming 850 calories in fat, while sitting on the couch watching Princess Bride ... again. -
or
in this instance with the personal label...
- Yeah, I am okay with a socially reclusive, paranoid schizophrenic because he is soooo hot! -
But then you would know up front,
gone is the wondering...
- Why IS he climbing a tree to sleep at night screaming 'don't let the dandelions get me' -
A simple label, that is all I am asking for.
"Warning: completely psychotic, juvenile rebel, who drinks too much and smokes pot."
or
"Warning: hopelessly unemployed couch potato who will never lift a finger to take out the trash, do laundry, or get the car fixed."
At least then you could make an informed decision, just like on a bag of chips
- Yeah, I am okay with consuming 850 calories in fat, while sitting on the couch watching Princess Bride ... again. -
or
in this instance with the personal label...
- Yeah, I am okay with a socially reclusive, paranoid schizophrenic because he is soooo hot! -
But then you would know up front,
gone is the wondering...
- Why IS he climbing a tree to sleep at night screaming 'don't let the dandelions get me' -
A simple label, that is all I am asking for.
Musings from the Dating Impaired-Part 2
And along the same lines as the dating buzzer (see part 1) but in a slightly different, save yourself kind of mode...I think that every phone should come with a BAC (blood alcohol calculator) built in. What a fabulous invention/app!!!
The feature would shut off all functions, text-email-phone calls (except to your local cab company) if it registers that your level is too high.
This would have saved me sooo many - OMG moments in the morning when I read the messages from the night before, quivering with embarrassment and trying to figure out how to recover from telling my ex that...
' i LOVE you & wnt u 2 b covered in Nutella & i will pretend 2 b a strawberri'
followed by ...
'u hopeless bastard if u dont write bck it is ovr!!'
followed by ...
'i miss u so much xoxo'
followed by...
'regally im eant fugs and hisses'
Yeah, I would pay money for an app like that, although now that I think about it, it should probably be offered as a public service :)
The feature would shut off all functions, text-email-phone calls (except to your local cab company) if it registers that your level is too high.
This would have saved me sooo many - OMG moments in the morning when I read the messages from the night before, quivering with embarrassment and trying to figure out how to recover from telling my ex that...
' i LOVE you & wnt u 2 b covered in Nutella & i will pretend 2 b a strawberri'
followed by ...
'u hopeless bastard if u dont write bck it is ovr!!'
followed by ...
'i miss u so much xoxo'
followed by...
'regally im eant fugs and hisses'
Yeah, I would pay money for an app like that, although now that I think about it, it should probably be offered as a public service :)
Musings from the Dating Impaired-Part 1
The Dating Buzzer
Everyone should come with a built in dating buzzer located in their left upper arm. The dating buzzer could be pushed (or punched depending on your needs) when you know that the date is utterly and completely beyond retrieval. An incident has occurred that you know just sealed the evening, and now you are searching desperately for a way out. Like a moth caught between a screen door and a main door, there is just enough room to flap around desperately ... but no escape. The dating buzzer would provide an instant escape - out into the night and much needed freedom.
So when you catch your date staring at the waitress's breasts or butt and he says "Boy, is she stacked!"
Wham! Hit the dating buzzer and you are instantly at home with a good book and a hot bath and your date is being boiled in oil - in medieval England.
or...
Your date casually brings up, "So I used to date this prostitute..."
Wham! You are now enjoying a nice glass of wine with friends while your date is being chased across Siberia - by woolly mammoths.
or...
Your date says "Well, I am separated, I just haven't called the lawyer yet."
Wham! Dating buzzer to the rescue...
You are enjoying time at the spa, while your date is shackled to a Viking raider ship in the north Atlantic.
Fabulous, thank you Dating Buzzer!
Everyone should come with a built in dating buzzer located in their left upper arm. The dating buzzer could be pushed (or punched depending on your needs) when you know that the date is utterly and completely beyond retrieval. An incident has occurred that you know just sealed the evening, and now you are searching desperately for a way out. Like a moth caught between a screen door and a main door, there is just enough room to flap around desperately ... but no escape. The dating buzzer would provide an instant escape - out into the night and much needed freedom.
So when you catch your date staring at the waitress's breasts or butt and he says "Boy, is she stacked!"
Wham! Hit the dating buzzer and you are instantly at home with a good book and a hot bath and your date is being boiled in oil - in medieval England.
or...
Your date casually brings up, "So I used to date this prostitute..."
Wham! You are now enjoying a nice glass of wine with friends while your date is being chased across Siberia - by woolly mammoths.
or...
Your date says "Well, I am separated, I just haven't called the lawyer yet."
Wham! Dating buzzer to the rescue...
You are enjoying time at the spa, while your date is shackled to a Viking raider ship in the north Atlantic.
Fabulous, thank you Dating Buzzer!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Adventures at the Museum
Way back in my twenties, when I actually believed that I could do anything I set my mind to, before I learned that math and I could never be friends. I was going to school to be a marine biologist. And because of this interest I went to work in the Cephalopod lab at the Museum of Natural History – by the way a totally fabulous experience.
Anyhow, they had a very large room crammed full of octopus, squid, cuttlefish, and nautilus, fermenting in jars and looking out at you with glazed over, eerie eyes, and arms flowing everywhere. Some looking like there really was just too much animal for the jar they were in and they were going to bust the seams at any minute. AWESOME STUFF.
So my brother, being a brother, says "hey there is a cool movie about working in museums called the Relic." (if you have not seen it, it is a late 80s - early 90s flick about a slithering, wheezing, scraping, carnivorous, gruesome, shape-shifting monster who haunts the local natural history museum….he did NOT tell me this BEFORE I saw it!)
So I am standing in the previously mentioned room of fermenting animals – cataloging what was where, and so forth…when off to the side of the room (that only has one door and I have been standing near it) comes a slithering, wheezing, scraping sound. My heart stopped and then was racing so fast I had to force myself to breath and I am thinking …."NO WAY" this is sooo totally not real …and then I make the most classic of all blunders – Yes, I actually went looking for the noise – I did not do the sensible thing (that everyone yells at the screen when they are watching the Relic, like "Go the other way!" or "Don't go looking for it, you idiot!") I crept slowly around each of the shelves, holding my breath and trying to peer through the age colored formalin and tangles of arms to spot the creature, braced with a clipboard and a pencil. (I am sure that I would have made an impressively daunting opponent!)
So what was the ferocious, intern-eating, slithering, and wheezing beast…well, apparently there was a hidden door behind one of the cabinets and a very aging, wheezing, foot sliding, cane using scientist had made his way in to the back of the room. I must admit, to my dismay, that I only spotted him departing by the back door when I gave up my bravery completely and had run from the room and around the outside corridor, out of fear and a vain effort to find a fire extinguisher. It seemed like a good idea at the time – I could either fry it with chemicals or hit it on whatever looked to be its head.
I am relieved to say that I did not attack the aging professor with a fire extinguisher, but it is a good thing he turned the corner before I did! As it was, he just thought I was a lunatic maintenance person brandishing a fire extinguisher and thankfully I never saw him again.
Furry Harbingers of Death
I just watched a spider crawl across the floor, in a commercial, and I still shudder.
I have tried to overcome the shudder that I feel even from seeing a picture and have tried to analyze why I find them so scary...
is it the creepy way that they look like they kind of flow over things - rather than walk?
or
is it that they are furry, which would normally make a creature potentially cute, if:
they didn't paralyze their victims and suck all their insides out after injecting them with a digestive poison and then wrapping them in a straight jacket of a cocoon and laughing while their victims insides slowly and painfully turn into a spider slushy??
hmmm, maybe I have given this a little too much thought.
I have tried to overcome the shudder that I feel even from seeing a picture and have tried to analyze why I find them so scary...
is it the creepy way that they look like they kind of flow over things - rather than walk?
or
is it that they are furry, which would normally make a creature potentially cute, if:
they didn't paralyze their victims and suck all their insides out after injecting them with a digestive poison and then wrapping them in a straight jacket of a cocoon and laughing while their victims insides slowly and painfully turn into a spider slushy??
hmmm, maybe I have given this a little too much thought.
The 'Never' Monster
Why you should never say 'never'.
Like I would 'never' cut myself with a pocket knife while trying to open a box of band-aids, I would 'never' eat an entire bag of double-stuff oreos in one sitting, I would 'never' have a homosexual affair or indulge in a random three-way with complete strangers, I would 'never' shoot six holes in my lawn mower because the rip cord disintegrated in my hand like a vaporized alien in the transporter room of the USS Enterprise.
Well, you get the idea....
Because as soon as you invoke 'never' the universe acts like a magnet to draw every 'never' ever spoken to happen in your life - simultaneously - and with a reckless abandon that rivals the feast of Bacchus at Mardi Gras (...that is another story...)
So just a warning to all of you who would 'never' and could 'never' - just when you think you might have escaped it will sneak up on you,
in the dark,
waiting,
watching,
ready to pounce when your guard is down and you are feeling safe.
then BAM!!
Before the voice inside your head is even beginning to sound warning signals (sadly this voice is very easy to ignore anyway...too easy to ignore - you know the one, it says: What are you doing? Are you sure that is a good idea?!?)
Of course this voice is quickly overcome by the 'never' monster who emblazons your ego with the idea of control, invincibility, and immortality. Then the 'never' monster completely consumes the tiny voice of reason, laughing gleefully as it chomps it in half and leaves it bloody and dying in the back alley of your mind while the 'never' monster goes cavorting around in your life running over flagpoles, spilling milk on your keyboard, wrecking your car, and making you buy that ridiculous 'adult' toy on a drunken 2 AM internet shopping spree!
oh yeah - 'never' monster - great plan!
Like I would 'never' cut myself with a pocket knife while trying to open a box of band-aids, I would 'never' eat an entire bag of double-stuff oreos in one sitting, I would 'never' have a homosexual affair or indulge in a random three-way with complete strangers, I would 'never' shoot six holes in my lawn mower because the rip cord disintegrated in my hand like a vaporized alien in the transporter room of the USS Enterprise.
Well, you get the idea....
Because as soon as you invoke 'never' the universe acts like a magnet to draw every 'never' ever spoken to happen in your life - simultaneously - and with a reckless abandon that rivals the feast of Bacchus at Mardi Gras (...that is another story...)
So just a warning to all of you who would 'never' and could 'never' - just when you think you might have escaped it will sneak up on you,
in the dark,
waiting,
watching,
ready to pounce when your guard is down and you are feeling safe.
then BAM!!
Before the voice inside your head is even beginning to sound warning signals (sadly this voice is very easy to ignore anyway...too easy to ignore - you know the one, it says: What are you doing? Are you sure that is a good idea?!?)
Of course this voice is quickly overcome by the 'never' monster who emblazons your ego with the idea of control, invincibility, and immortality. Then the 'never' monster completely consumes the tiny voice of reason, laughing gleefully as it chomps it in half and leaves it bloody and dying in the back alley of your mind while the 'never' monster goes cavorting around in your life running over flagpoles, spilling milk on your keyboard, wrecking your car, and making you buy that ridiculous 'adult' toy on a drunken 2 AM internet shopping spree!
oh yeah - 'never' monster - great plan!
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