Thursday, March 29, 2012

Fears I Never Knew I Had

I am not your regular girl.
Yes, I wear heels to work.
Yes, I wear makeup almost everyday.
Yes, I like to cook, and I actually enjoy cleaning.
Yes, okay, I listen to Justin Bieber and the Backstreet Boys (only in moments of insanely high spirits and hope for life and the world)
But--I am NOT your regular girl.
I have never thought of myself as (ugh) girly. I was practically a tomboy in high school for Pete's sake! So when my boyfriend played a dirty, mean trick on me in the car (pretending a bug is on my foot is, in fact, a dirty, dirty trick) and I screamed like a (clears throat) girl-I was a tad bit surprised with my own blood-curdlin', body jerkin' reaction. As it so happens, I didn't know I was so afraid of bugs because I have been avoiding them my whole gol-darn life.
The fear was only solidified when that same weekend, in the same car in fact, an actual bug was on me, and I screamed, jerked, and flung the bug as far away from my person as possible-and on to my trick-player boyfriend who was all too aware of Karma at this point.
But the real story starts when I am all alone, in the front yard of my home, the sky just dark enough to be ominous..
I was repotting my two house plants with fresh Miracle Grow potting soil.  I was working diligently, whistling away and enjoying the feel of earth between my nails and fingers, working its way into the cracks and crevices of my hands.  I finished the smaller plant, and moved on to the large rubber plant that works so hard to clean the air in my bedroom.  As I lovingly dumped the old soil onto the front lawn, a squirming worm poked its head up from the stuff and sniffed the air.  I couldn't believe my hard-working eyes: an unknown house guest had been living in the same room with me for years! He seemed to sense my wonder, and buried himself back in the soil he had just been aerating.  I figured that I probably still wanted him to live with us, that dear sweet little aerater soul, and began searching in the soil for his little limp body.
Now keep in mind, I had just discovered a deep and abiding fear for anything buggish.
My search became feverish, as I just had to have him back in my (and my dear plant's) life. Just at the moment I noticed him in my cupped heads-my fear arose:
My open mouth smile quickly turned down into a scream of horror, my hands held high and triumphant, with the worm resting majestically on top of his dirt pile, turned into a catapult sending him far from me. The search began again.
I finally relocated the bugger (pun most definitely intended) and made sure dirt surrounded my hands on all sides from any contact with him and he was quickly tossed into the pot.  It had all happened so quickly, what with my eyes blurred with stress tears, and my heart pounding in my chest, that I had to search yet again in the pot's soil just to be sure I got him.
I bless him with many hermaphroditical children, and may they ever keep my plant happy.

Luck O' the Irish

I don't care what anyone says, St. Patrick's day IS lucky!
I was eradicating the mold that has taken up residence in my vehicle, like any good car owner.
I was just wrapping up the process, when I decided to give the moldy-mold one last good ol' fashioned bleach water spritz.  I returned the seat to its full, upright, and locked position, when a glint of silver and turquoise caught me eye:

It was my lost earring from over a year ago.
And these aren't just any old earrings, they were given to me by my father, and prized most of my earring possessions.
Worn religiously, until one fateful night, the earring was ripped from my ear, and thought to be lost in the bowels of Portland's rainy streets and sewers.
As only St. Patrickian luck would have it, I had also kept the unripped and unlost pair, hoping against hope that they would one day be reunited, safely in my ear holes.