an irrational fear

I was talking with a friend recently about my biggest "weakness." I think she's plotting to take me down and wants to know just how to do it. Honestly, this is something that has crossed my mind quite often. I've actually put a lot of thought into what I would consider my "kryptonite." Here was my response to her inquiry:

I don't even know if this counts, because I'm mostly over it now. This applied most strongly back in high school and college. But now, I honestly think I can handle it. So ... maybe this isn't what you're looking for and probably wouldn't help you tape me to a tree.

Vibrating. I HATE vibrating. But I can't even say that anymore. Right now, my phone is on vibrate. That would have KILLED me in high school, but it's fine now. I used to liken it to fingernails on a chalkboard x 5,000,000,000. Remember Tickle-Me Elmo? That thing is the DEVIL. Desirae's little sister used to chase me around with her. I admit, it may have been funny, but my heart was RACING and I was in a sheer panic just trying to get away from it. I broke my friend's pager in high school when he held it to the back of my head. He knew I'd freak out. He didn't know I had fast enough reflexes to grab it off of me and throw it into the brick wall. I'm almost okay with it now. My phone doesn't bother me at all. I still hate bass speakers in cars. I HATE that rumble. But I love 4-wheeling and snow machining and those vibrate pretty badly. Last time I was at Grandma's house, I had a pinched nerve in my neck. She pulled out her vibrating massage contraption. I thought I was going to die. But you don't say no to Grandma. It took me a minute to calm myself, but after I could breathe normally, it actually felt good. Until she got obnoxious and ran the thing up the back of my skull every time I started to talk. Have you ever felt your eyeballs vibrate? No bueno.

Most people have some sort of phobia, right? You're afraid of raccoons. And lizards. And people brushing up against your tent.

I'm NOT jumpy at all. I've never had that reflex. Seriously, my reaction time SUCKS. It's pretty frustrating when it comes to volleyball. So, I've never been a jumpy girl. I don't squeal out loud at things. EVER. I laugh hysterically when others do, though. I had a roommate who spent the entire semester trying to get me to jump. She'd hide behind doors and jump out at me. Never worked. I'd just turn slowly to look at her like, "well, hello." For some stupid reason, my mom is the only one who can consistently get me to jump. What IS THAT?

Mom's terrified of spiders. Since dad was at work all the time, guess who got to take care of them for her? I remember being no older than 7 years old with mom on top of the kitchen counter while I squashed a HUGE Hobo spider with a shoe and flushed it down the toilet. Spiders, snakes, mice--I'm fine with. The neighbor boy once threw a bloodied, dead bird at me. It hit me in the arm and left some entrails. THAT TIME I squealed and screamed like a girl and ran all the way home. I do still cringe at mutilated animal corpses. But who doesn't?

I LOVE heights. I LOVE the dark. I love bridges and climbing on precarious surfaces. There's something exhilarating about those things. I'm NOT smart about them. In Mexico, we came across some sort of spider on the wall inside some ruins. The thing was bigger than my hand. NOT a tarantula (which we learned to catch and play with.) Not even our biology professor knew what this thing was. We took pictures, but wanted to see the scale. I was THIS CLOSE to putting my hand up right next to it to compare the size for a picture. Bro. Juan stopped me. I didn't think about the fact that I could have died! I'm not necessarily brave. Just stupid. :)

In summary--you're not going to get me with a spider or a snake or strange noises in the night (I was always the roommate with the flashlight who had to get up and check things out.) But you might just get me with a Tickle Me Elmo. Especially if he still has the same sinister laugh ...

The devil himself.

 the spider I wanted to touch. Those are not my man hands.

 It's humid in Belize. Lay off the hair, alright! I'm pretty sure I got it done in corn rows the day after this picture was taken. I have a similar picture of me when i was 6 with a little garden snake. I wish I could find it to put the pictures side-by-side. Time for some digging.

An awkward game of "pass the tarantula" in Guatemala. The thing was scrambling everywhere, but we couldn't let it drop to the ground!