ick...

I may or may not have a few irrational fears. Aaaand most of them deal with the animal kingdom in some variety or another...

Don't judge me or anything, but I have a very real fear of grasshoppers. I looked it up, and it's called acridophobia. I wouldn't call it a real phobia; it's not like I feel like I'll die in their presence, but still...I'd much rather avoid them, and I very nearly jump out of my skin if one jumps on me. (UGH!)

This pic makes me squirm 'cause it's on a human hand.
And also because it looks large enough to eat a small child.
(I call it "grosshopper." Isn't that clever of me, though?)

Also, I'm a bit skittish around moths. (And butterflies.) I looked this one up too; lepidopterophobia is the fear of butterflies, and mottephobia is the fear of moths. It's real, people. I can tell y'all are judging me, and I ask you to at least mock me in silence. I think butterflies are pretty, but I get jittery and nervous when they flutter nearby (especially around my head). Don't even get me started on moths. (Yuck!)

I said they're beautiful...
I just don't like them to be anywhere near me, thanks...

And then...this one was a recent revelation, but I was taking a gander at a new book I bought for work: My Very First Encyclopedia with Winnie the Pooh and Friends: ANIMALS. The book is fun, and my clients really seem to like it so far. But before I put it on my bookshelf, I looked through its pages. And you know what? I was totally disturbed when I came across this image on page 42:

Iiiit's a sloth...

(Somehow, because of Sid the Sloth from Ice Age, I thought they'd be...not so creepy)

Umm, so get over the fact that I'm 28 and have never seen a real live sloth before. That creature is freaky-deaky! And I'm not trying to knock any of God's creations or anything, really I'm not! But what the heck is that? He basically looks like something out of a nightmare. And why is his face all squished together surrounded by so much head?! (ICK!)

Here's what's really funny, though: on Monday, one of my clients was looking through this stellar animal encylcopedia, and when she came across the sloth, she said (and I quote!):"Awwww! Look at him! He's so cute!"

WHAT THE WHAT? I'm not a judgmental person, typically, but my initial reaction (albeit silently) was: "What is wrong with this child?"

To each his own, I suppose.

And who am I to talk, really? I'm afraid of butterflies...

the haggis...

This post has kind of been a long-time coming. I've known I'd blog about it ever since I knew I'd be tasting haggis. And I totally wanted to post it earlier, but I've been having issues uploading videos onto blogspot from my computer. Meh...

I hope I haven't built the suspense too much for any of you who care to watch what is about to unfold. It's really nothing special. Except for the part where I eat haggis. (It is a big deal, okay?!)

Bon appetit!

Me & Lisa dishing up the haggis.



Will I, or won't I...?!

Okay, so I totally realize now that I shouldn't have looked up what, exactly, haggis is before I ate it. (Basically it's the Scottish equivalent of a hot dog, but sheep-style. Minus the hoof.) I don't know if you picked up on it, but I totally gagged twice before I even managed to get the fork to my mouth. Then there was at least one more gag whilst the haggis was in my mouth. Can somebody tell me, please, how you can't think of what haggis is when it's rolling 'round in your gullet?

Anyway...I did it. I ate a bite of haggis. And now I'm forever done with it. Seriously, it wasn't bad, but why would I eat it again? I feel quite certain that it's the nastiest thing I've ever put in or near my mouth. And I feel equally as certain that it's the nastiest thing that ever will go in or near my mouth.

Done and...done.

Oh yeah...and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VANCE!

nightmare revisited...

I heard the craziest story on the radio as I was getting ready for work this morning.

Seriously.

Quite a freaky story.

Some fellow goes sky diving for the first time on Saturday. As a first-timer, you have to go tandem. Shortly after the chute opens, the guy realizes his jump-master isn't responding. At all.

Turns out his jump-master is...wait for it...dead.

Seriously.

I told you it was crazy.

The story gets better, though. Although the jump-master is a goner (rest in peace), this rookie sky diver somehow lands without dying himself and he tries to revive the jump-master.

This story freaks me out of my gourd because I went sky diving in September 2006 and I had bad dreams before I went. (Nightmares about my chute not opening.) My experience was, in a word, awesome...but since diving, I've felt that I cheated death and I've decided I don't want to tempt fate again.

This story has just strengthened my resolve, thanks...