I was wandering through some of the other blogs on this site (I still can't get used to the word "blog" -- I swear that's the exact sound my cat makes before she coughs up a hairball...) and I was reading something about irrational fears. Which made me think about some of my own irrational fears. So here, in no particular order, are a few of the things I'm afraid of but probably shouldn't be:
Willy Wonka's oompa loompas and their creepy oompa loompa song -- I haven't seen the newer, Johnny Depp version of the movie, but I avoid the Gene Wilder version for the simple fact that LITTLE ORANGE PEOPLE WITH GREEN HAIR ARE NOT NORMAL. It's also not normal when they form a self-righteous singing and dancing troupe at the local candy factory, instead of just minding their own business and stirring the chocolate. And I'm pretty sure that after they dragged away the moronic, selfish children who found themselves in all sorts of hilarious (read: CREEPY) predicaments, they pushed them into a ravine, or left them out in a desert, or called some guy named Uncle Vito to "take care" of the "chocolate factory problem." I mean, do we ever see those kids again? For all we know, they're all lined up in glass cases in the oompa loompa break room like naughty children trophies. And just hearing that song they continually sing -- something about "we've got another question for you" -- makes my skin scrawl. Please shut up, creepy little men. If you have a question, try google...
Drains at the bottom of pools -- I have no idea where this fear came from. I've been swimming since I was a kid, and I can even remember diving to the bottom of our backyard pool to collect pennies or toys or whatever we'd toss in the water. I have long hair, but it's never been caught in a pool drain, and I don't KNOW anyone whose hair has been caught in a pool drain. So why do I find pool drains so irrationally frightening? I actually have to swim around them instead of over them, even if the drain is six feet below me. For some reason, if I swim over a pool drain, I'm overcome with this feeling of dread. Kind of like the feeling you might get if you thought someone was hiding under your bed, and you had to get out to use the bathroom. Why would I feel like someone was hiding in the drain in my pool? Maybe it's oompa loompas...
Fire in all shapes and forms -- Actually, this one isn't so irrational. What might be irrational though is the fact that I never even struck a match until I was fifteen, because I was so afraid of those little fire-breathing sticks. I remember a time when I was a kid, probably about six or seven years old, and my older brother -- who would've been about 14 or 15 at the time -- discovered one of his vinyl records had been melted by some kind of heat source. When he showed my parents, they sat me down at the dining room table and interrogated me, convinced I'd been playing with matches. They even put a book of matches in front of me, and tried to get me to strike one, I guess to see if I had the dexterity to pull it off. But I adamantly refused to touch the matches, all the while thinking, "are my parents NUTS? Those things make fire!" I was definitely not your usual "playing with matches" kind of kid...
The wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz... and the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz... and the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz... oh, who am I kidding? The Wizard of Oz in its entirety -- I have never been able to understand how the Wizard of Oz is such a time-honored, beloved movie cherished by both children and adults. That movie is downright scary on so many levels. First you've got a tornado... then the terrifying realization that your house has landed in a bizarre technicolor freakworld... you've got a green witch, who not only threatens a person but a completely innocent "little dog, too"... then you have three things that talk and dance and sing, but absolutely, under no circumstances, ever SHOULD talk or dance or sing. By this point in the movie, a logical person must be wondering, "why won't that stupid Dorothy run away screaming?" This is what a SANE person would do if a scarecrow in a field started talking to them. Perhaps Dorothy had gotten far too involved in the inner workings of Bizarre Technicolor Freakworld to give it much notice. And then, of course, you've got those seriously creepy flying monkeys... and an entire scene where Dorothy and her entourage fall asleep in a field full of poppies and are waken up by falling snow -- obviously some sort of veiled opium reference included to get kids hooked on drugs. And after all of this, it turns out Dorothy was simply having the most horrifying dream EVER, and if she'd just asked one of those stupid Munchkins to pinch her or something, maybe she would've waken up and avoided the whole deal...
Raw meat -- I don't know if this would really be considered a "fear" or simply some sort of obsessive-compulsive thing. But I can't stand the thought of touching raw meat. I don't know how anyone can do it. I do like cooking with chicken, but before it's cooked, I have to hold it away from me with forks and cut it up with poultry shears, and then immediately throw all those utensils into the dishwasher, scrub down the counter, and wash my hands with hot water. I suppose it's just good kitchen hygiene, but I'm always amazed by the people who can just pick up a raw chicken, or stick their hands into a bowl of raw ground beef to make hamburgers. Eeww.
Umbrellas -- This is my newest irrational fear. I'm really not sure I'll ever be able to open an umbrella again. Unless it has some sort of push-button system. Umbrellas are evil.
I'm almost certain my list of irrational fears could keep going, but I wouldn't want to sound completely nuts. Perhaps someday I'll make a list of my irrational food aversions. (Because there's nothing nutty at all about irrational food aversions.) :)
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