It should be heavily noted that I hate doctors.
A lot.
So much, in fact, that last Memorial Day, MoonGoddess had to literally drag my near-dead self into a doctor's office...twice.
See, after talking me into going into the doctor for 20 minutes, I peacefully got out of the car and walked inside the lobby. She gently nudged me towards the counter, I broke out in tears, and took off running outside back to the car.
I was then taken back inside and put in a chair. Hence the earlier blog post in this about the Ativan.
So here's the deal. About 2 or so weeks ago, I woke up with a bump on the waist of my pants, right at the top of my right butt cheek
I know...how sexy.
I figured the normal run of the mill "Livin' in the South" things: Mosquito, Possible tick bite, maybe a flea?
But then it got worse, bigger, uglier, ouchier. People started whispering "Are you sure it wasn't a spider?"
Hold up, you guys already know my undying hate for spiders. That was the LAST thing that should have been whispered to me. I suddenly had horrible visions of my left butt cheek rotting away and me trying to sit down, only to flop off a seat and burst into tears...destroyed by my lack of balance.
I envisioned myself alone in an ass cheek prosthetic store, trying on falsies so that I might one day lead a 'normal' life. A life where I could sit with no fear.
I had already accepted my fate.
At one point it got bad enough, that I thought I was going to pass out, I got ill, very...very quickly. It went from "unidentified bump on ass" to "unidentified bump on ass and now all the lymph glands in my groin are swollen...I can't move my leg...or lay down...or get comfortable. And GOD it got hot in here, and I'm sweaty, and ....and I can't see straight..."
Off to the doctor I went...alone.
Same doctor, with one difference. My nurse, turned out to be a friend of mine.
INSTA-RELIEF!
(I thought)
Oh the BS'ing was instant, kicking it off and chit chatting...she took a look at it and asked if it could be staph. Hm didn't think of that, but nah it was a bug bite.
Nope...it was an abscess. An infection, and it had moved through to my lymph glands in under a day.
The doctor came in and was concerned about how fast it had moved, and said it was too small to drain, so I had to get a round of antibiotics...fast.
She said to me "The good news is, I don't have to drain it. The bad news is, you gotta get a shot."
And in my bravado I said "HA! A shot! That's not too bad!"
Until my friend walked back in with TWO syringes.
(quick back story: I hate shots more than I hate spiders...and doctors...COMBINED! I used to never have a problem with shots, until I was getting blood drawn for a H. Pylori test [which I had]. Both my sisters remained quiet as their blood was drawn, and as I sat down, my little [EVIL] sister goes "oh my god, did you see the needle? It's huuuuuuge...man that's gonna HURT!! Don't look! Oh here it comes!" *lady sticks it in my arm* "OMG can you FEEL that!! I bet you can! Oh my god I bet it like hurts SO BAD!!" I was ruined. Now when a needle gets near me...I hear her and I FLIP OUT!)
My friend already knew I'd flip out so she did the kind thing and put HUGE ASS FUCKING NEEDLES ON IT So that she could get the shot in...QUICK.
I quizzed her, what was the gauge, what was the length? All answered with "I'm not telling you that."
I tried for close to ...I want to say 45 minutes to talk her out of giving me the shots...I reaaallly tried. She finally told me that the needles were big, and she had to do two shots b/c the dose couldn't be put into one muscle. So I begged, one in each arm.
My arm muscles...not big enough. Must go in biggest muscle of my body.
...my ass.
I BEGGED her, put them in the already hurt side. She then reminded me "TWO.SEPARATE.MUSCLES!" To which I almost screamed back "YOU GOTTA STICK BOTH SIDES OF MY ASS?!"
Yes...yes she did.
Now...I said I was friends with her. But we don't have that type of friendship where "I'm gonna change real quick"
"Ok no problem, I'll just sit on the bed here...oh nice underwear!"
"Thanks! Got it on sale!"
So I went from ungodly anxious to her saying "Ok, pull down your pants" first off when she came in the room.
Yes, I argued and begged her not to stick me for almost 45 minutes with my pants halfway down.
We have a special bond now. And what other person can say their friend stuck them with two gigantor needles in each ass cheek?
(Other than heroin addicts running out of options, I suppose)
It honestly was not as bad as I was thinking it would be. It's amazing what the human mind can do.
I hobbled out of there, angry, hurting, and knew I had to drive (oh yeah that was FUN) and then the woman at the desk told me that there's no copay because I have insurance now and they pick up the entire visit.
Oh?
YAY DOCTORS!!!!
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Saturday, May 28, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The Ocean
The waves were crashing at my feet. How did I get here? It's been so long since I've been to the ocean. Sometimes, when a strong wind blows up from The Gulf, even as far as I am away, I can smell the salt in the air. It brings an instant smile to my face and a soothing feeling to everything inside of me. Sometimes, the Seagulls come far enough north that I stand outside, looking towards the clouds and watch them circle the parking lot, and I'm lost, I'm back at Virgina Beach, listening to them and watching them circle for fries or any goody left out.
This isn't Virgina Beach
There's a distinct lack of color....it is definitely sunset, but no color to be seen. Black and White? I finally look out, and things slow almost to a standstill. Almost like we had fallen into one of those children's toys. The gel solution that freezes time, and you carefully place small objects in it and create a moment. I looked to my hands, and then see myself looking at my hands.
I'm dreaming. I watch myself look into the sunset again, then back to my hands and then around. I look to me who is watching and I smile. I'm back in my body.
Why am I here? I hear a laugh and look out into the slowly crashing waves. A small girl runs up to me and knocks me over into the shallows, little floaties on her arms. I grab her and stand up and yell yar! I'm a big sea dragon! And I'm going to eat you! She giggles and wriggles around and tries to get away not so fast little fishie! I love little fishies the most! rrraawrrr! I hold her a moment longer, tickling and blowing a raspberry before letting her go Oh no! The little fishie got away! I feign defeat as she runs away laughing, back into the surf.
What am I doing here?
The surf is frothy and constant. I take a couple of steps out I bet I get stung by a Jelly fish. The wind is cool and full of salt, my smile is beginning to ache my jaw.
A wave, a bit bigger from the rest, comes in and catches me off guard and knocks me on my back. I'm not used to waves anymore.
There's a method.
From the water she comes and jogs up to me with a grin from ear to ear and a laugh that is contagious enough that I laugh at my own spill.
That's how I got here. She holds out her hand to help me up and I shake my head and lay back in the surf as a small wave covers me. The sand stirs all around me. Reshaping the earth, now different than it was a few seconds ago. As the wave recedes slowly, I feel hands in the sand, either side of me. I open my eyes as the wave leaves and she is over me.
Her smile is bigger now, her hair messily spilled everywhere in front of her face. Small water droplets, catching the sun little crystals and dripping onto me.
This makes no sense...why?
Face to face with mirroring smiles, she simply says "...silly" right before her lips meet mine.
definitely dreaming
I never see the ending, the kiss triggers a flash that wakes me...every night. I've never dreamt in black and white and haven't since. Except that one.
Now the question, is the dream the past...or hopefully the future?
upon 2nd, 3rd, and 4th thought, I had to use the same song. Hope you don't mind.
This isn't Virgina Beach
There's a distinct lack of color....it is definitely sunset, but no color to be seen. Black and White? I finally look out, and things slow almost to a standstill. Almost like we had fallen into one of those children's toys. The gel solution that freezes time, and you carefully place small objects in it and create a moment. I looked to my hands, and then see myself looking at my hands.
I'm dreaming. I watch myself look into the sunset again, then back to my hands and then around. I look to me who is watching and I smile. I'm back in my body.
Why am I here? I hear a laugh and look out into the slowly crashing waves. A small girl runs up to me and knocks me over into the shallows, little floaties on her arms. I grab her and stand up and yell yar! I'm a big sea dragon! And I'm going to eat you! She giggles and wriggles around and tries to get away not so fast little fishie! I love little fishies the most! rrraawrrr! I hold her a moment longer, tickling and blowing a raspberry before letting her go Oh no! The little fishie got away! I feign defeat as she runs away laughing, back into the surf.
What am I doing here?
The surf is frothy and constant. I take a couple of steps out I bet I get stung by a Jelly fish. The wind is cool and full of salt, my smile is beginning to ache my jaw.
A wave, a bit bigger from the rest, comes in and catches me off guard and knocks me on my back. I'm not used to waves anymore.
There's a method.
From the water she comes and jogs up to me with a grin from ear to ear and a laugh that is contagious enough that I laugh at my own spill.
That's how I got here. She holds out her hand to help me up and I shake my head and lay back in the surf as a small wave covers me. The sand stirs all around me. Reshaping the earth, now different than it was a few seconds ago. As the wave recedes slowly, I feel hands in the sand, either side of me. I open my eyes as the wave leaves and she is over me.
Her smile is bigger now, her hair messily spilled everywhere in front of her face. Small water droplets, catching the sun little crystals and dripping onto me.
This makes no sense...why?
Face to face with mirroring smiles, she simply says "...silly" right before her lips meet mine.
definitely dreaming
I never see the ending, the kiss triggers a flash that wakes me...every night. I've never dreamt in black and white and haven't since. Except that one.
Now the question, is the dream the past...or hopefully the future?
upon 2nd, 3rd, and 4th thought, I had to use the same song. Hope you don't mind.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Cimmerian
At what point do I wake up and make a snap realization that the world around me is unraveling.
This is no cry for help, it is realization.
And to bury it all under wet molded dirt, and tell it to die. Make sure it stays down in the depths of hell where it belongs. There's eccentricities abound that are taking me down and can't be bothered to be found, I fear to be bound.
I half expect some days to wake up and watch the fabric of the universe unravel around me, and that's okay in my book.
S'all I ever needed n wanted, a challenge. Should I find a travel companion and take off into the unknown, let it be known...I call the dark personality.
Right now I look around and it's the same damn day, man, just sometimes it is light outside, sometimes it is dark. And I float like a ghost, chained by my moral to do good and right.
I don't want to do good nor right....I want to be your fear. I want to be that uncertainty that makes you think, question yourself...your logic...everything you ever held in your head...I want it to be questioned. I want to be the bad guy here and challenge what you might call your morals. It is tempting, is it not?
There can be good, and there is so much good in the fucking dirt in which we colonize and set up rules and parameters. Break those rules, destroy what is 'right'. Kick that god damned wall out from in front of you and start kicking ass.
It is tempting...isn't it...
I want to be everything....and everything it encompasses...everything that is bad for you.
Can you feel the good Lord tugging at your heart strings? he asked from the pulpit
That's not the good lord. It was me trying to get out.
This is no cry for help, it is realization.
And to bury it all under wet molded dirt, and tell it to die. Make sure it stays down in the depths of hell where it belongs. There's eccentricities abound that are taking me down and can't be bothered to be found, I fear to be bound.
I half expect some days to wake up and watch the fabric of the universe unravel around me, and that's okay in my book.
S'all I ever needed n wanted, a challenge. Should I find a travel companion and take off into the unknown, let it be known...I call the dark personality.
Right now I look around and it's the same damn day, man, just sometimes it is light outside, sometimes it is dark. And I float like a ghost, chained by my moral to do good and right.
I don't want to do good nor right....I want to be your fear. I want to be that uncertainty that makes you think, question yourself...your logic...everything you ever held in your head...I want it to be questioned. I want to be the bad guy here and challenge what you might call your morals. It is tempting, is it not?
There can be good, and there is so much good in the fucking dirt in which we colonize and set up rules and parameters. Break those rules, destroy what is 'right'. Kick that god damned wall out from in front of you and start kicking ass.
It is tempting...isn't it...
I want to be everything....and everything it encompasses...everything that is bad for you.
Can you feel the good Lord tugging at your heart strings? he asked from the pulpit
That's not the good lord. It was me trying to get out.
Friday, May 06, 2011
The Amazing Insomniac Adventure.
This was previously posted on another site, and got "Reader's Choice". Enjoy.
As a precursor to this entry, there is always a back story as to what brought this situation about. Last May, a little after my birthday, I had some not so great things come up in my life, that put me into a mental tail spin. I ended up quite sick, and was taken to a doctor who determined that 'due to my circumstances' I needed to be treated for depression and insomnia. The depression part I understood, as I did feel a bit lower that manure under a cow at that moment. The insomnia bit, I didn't understand at all. Yeah, I stayed up late and so forth, but I wasn't an insomniac. I was given a pill called Ativan, thus bringing this little journey about. It should also be noted, I no longer take any of the medications, and I'm back to full fledged insomnia (which is where you lovely readers get my late night ramblings from! So rejoice!)
---------------
When the doctor walked into the room and told me she was prescribing this pill called "Ativan" for my "Anxiety". Sure, no problem, I've always dealt with a fairly substantial amount of anxiety. When I filled my prescription and looked at the bottle, it listed in order for treatment "Insomnia/Anxiety"
In the middle of the Wal-Mart pharmacy, I bellowed to the Heavens, "Insomnia?! HA! HA-HA-HA!"
This shit makes you sleepy.
Not sleepy, like when you take a medicine and then read the bottle and it warns "Don't take this medicine and drive that car, you'll CRASH!" and you take it anyway, go on and drive and gloat to yourself, "Pffft, I'm so above this crap. I took it and I'm driving...I'm the beast of all human creatures!"
No, it is totally not like that. I took it the first night, and heard the doctor's voice echo inside my head (very Obi Wan like) "Make suuuuure you're ready to goooo to bed. It acts very quiiiicklllyyy." I threw a tiny little pill in my mouth and scoffed out "pusshaaaw, onto YouTube!"
I want to say it was 10 minutes later (hell, it could have been less), I was hit with the most hideous feeling ever...what the HELL was that?? It was like faeries, NAY, evil goblin troll things made of pure lead and evil, grasped me by my eyelids and were pulling them down. "w...wtf..." I stammered out.
No! I wasn't READY yet! I had so much random internet surfing to do!!
I admitted defeat and slid into bed.
Omg...the bed..
The bed, does not have wooden slats on it, it sinks down in the middle, and there's this phantom spring that no matter WHERE you are in the bed, it finds your hip bone and goes "CAMP! Set it up here, boys!" and it grinds away at your bone and soul. It steals whatever happiness you might have towards beds away.
Seriously, remember in Sailor Moon...when Kaedite is stealing people's energy for Queen Behryl, and all the people that come to happy fun Dreamland, and (stupidly) ate the cake suddenly have shadowy fog coming from their bodies, and they fall helplessly into the floor, unable to move? Because ALL their energy is being sucked into the crazy Princess woman's apple?
That is EXACTLY what the bed does to you. But no candy or cake...or cute automated tigers...or bears.
And definitely no Sailor Moon :(
But the bed that night? It was made of pure happiness and gold. That phantom spring? That was extra support for my hip...it felt...so amazing, so...THERE, it was MEANT to be there, like a small hand holding the lower part of my body saying, "It is ok. I've got you, go to sleep, sweet prince."
The pillow...that's like 50 million years old? The pillow that if I cut it open, I'm sure only dust and one of the dead sea scrolls would come out instead of cotton? The one that becomes nothing as soon as your head hits it? In fact, the stuffing inside has this weird head phobia...it wants nothing to do with people sleeping on it. You touch it, and it splits to either side of your head, creating a set of afro sized ear muffs.
THAT Pillow?? Felt like an Egyptian pillow of amazing under my skull. It wasn't afraid of me, it was wrapping it's arms around me and cradling my neck.
"Dearest, sweetest Teffy." it whispered out, "I'll cradle your neck and create afro sized ear muffs to drown out any sound for you."
"My god, thank you, pillow...you are truly amazing."
"Never a problem, my amazing prince...now..give me your debit card PIN."
And in my state of stupor, I almost did it, but sleep grabbed me so fast. No lying there wondering what tomorrow would bring, no tenseness...just...uninterrupted sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling of a million bucks.
literally, like a herd of magnificient huge horned bucks. Absolutely not the metaphor you thought I was going for did you? A million of Bambi's dad...THAT awesome.
My whole day drifted, I was on cloud nine, I was in limbo. Not quite awake enough to care, yet not tired enough to want to sleep.
Oh.My.God, I wanted more. I hurried home that night and waited anxiously for 9 o'clock to roll around. *BOOM!* pill time! And this time, it was more magnificent. I expected it, I actually crawled out into the land of rainbows and unicorns. I played in the fields of promises of good dreams and lollipops. And when I hit the bed...stars...beautiful stars and butterflies flew from the blankets and danced around me.
About five days in, I realized "oh hey, there's only 15 pills in this bottle." Then I heard the doctor's voice chime in again, "We'll give you this to get started and see how it goes, just come back in about two weeks and we'll adjust it."
Not a problem, I don't suffer from insomnia. I went two nights without taking it, because I genuinely felt tired. Biggest mistake ever, I couldn't fall asleep to save my life.
I casually mentioned to MoonGoddes that I needed to go back to the doctor soon so I could get a refill. I also noticed something horrible, after about 10 pills, the magic wasn't there. I got groggy and laid down, but the thoughts started racing. The bed? It...it was uncomfortable again, I woke up all night again. I was such a grouch at work.
Ohhhh, that's what she meant by "Adjusting it."
The same day I mentioned I needed to go back to get the refill, I got a bill in the mail from the clinic. A BILL! I paid in full whilst I was there, and here they are saying I never paid at all.
"Well, at least you used your debit card, right?" Said MoonGoddess with a smile on her face, "Just get a transaction statement and show that to them."
"I paid in fricken cash..."
You would have thought somebody set a bag of kittens on fire in front of her with that statement, the way her face twisted around as she said back quite pleadingly, "please...pleeassee tell me you still have the receipt"
I'm notoriously awful about not keeping receipts. Like, reaaalllly awful. It could say on the bottom: "HOLD ONTO THIS RECEIPT FOR 5 DAYS AND YOU WILL GET FIVE TRILLION DOLLARS!"aaannddddd I'd probably lose it/throw it away in about two. But I DID find it after HOURS of searching!
The problem is, I'm now stuck in an in between stage. I'm not alert enough to watch a movie, or god forbid wash the dishes (That are now an impressive mountain and I'm sure that's a civilization starting on the South side over there.) or even watch anything on YouTube. I'm just...HERE.
And then it hit me, dammit...I have insomnia.
Now that I think of it...where DID I put that receipt after I found it?
....
....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As a precursor to this entry, there is always a back story as to what brought this situation about. Last May, a little after my birthday, I had some not so great things come up in my life, that put me into a mental tail spin. I ended up quite sick, and was taken to a doctor who determined that 'due to my circumstances' I needed to be treated for depression and insomnia. The depression part I understood, as I did feel a bit lower that manure under a cow at that moment. The insomnia bit, I didn't understand at all. Yeah, I stayed up late and so forth, but I wasn't an insomniac. I was given a pill called Ativan, thus bringing this little journey about. It should also be noted, I no longer take any of the medications, and I'm back to full fledged insomnia (which is where you lovely readers get my late night ramblings from! So rejoice!)
---------------
When the doctor walked into the room and told me she was prescribing this pill called "Ativan" for my "Anxiety". Sure, no problem, I've always dealt with a fairly substantial amount of anxiety. When I filled my prescription and looked at the bottle, it listed in order for treatment "Insomnia/Anxiety"
In the middle of the Wal-Mart pharmacy, I bellowed to the Heavens, "Insomnia?! HA! HA-HA-HA!"
This shit makes you sleepy.
Not sleepy, like when you take a medicine and then read the bottle and it warns "Don't take this medicine and drive that car, you'll CRASH!" and you take it anyway, go on and drive and gloat to yourself, "Pffft, I'm so above this crap. I took it and I'm driving...I'm the beast of all human creatures!"
No, it is totally not like that. I took it the first night, and heard the doctor's voice echo inside my head (very Obi Wan like) "Make suuuuure you're ready to goooo to bed. It acts very quiiiicklllyyy." I threw a tiny little pill in my mouth and scoffed out "pusshaaaw, onto YouTube!"
I want to say it was 10 minutes later (hell, it could have been less), I was hit with the most hideous feeling ever...what the HELL was that?? It was like faeries, NAY, evil goblin troll things made of pure lead and evil, grasped me by my eyelids and were pulling them down. "w...wtf..." I stammered out.
No! I wasn't READY yet! I had so much random internet surfing to do!!
I admitted defeat and slid into bed.
Omg...the bed..
The bed, does not have wooden slats on it, it sinks down in the middle, and there's this phantom spring that no matter WHERE you are in the bed, it finds your hip bone and goes "CAMP! Set it up here, boys!" and it grinds away at your bone and soul. It steals whatever happiness you might have towards beds away.
Seriously, remember in Sailor Moon...when Kaedite is stealing people's energy for Queen Behryl, and all the people that come to happy fun Dreamland, and (stupidly) ate the cake suddenly have shadowy fog coming from their bodies, and they fall helplessly into the floor, unable to move? Because ALL their energy is being sucked into the crazy Princess woman's apple?
That is EXACTLY what the bed does to you. But no candy or cake...or cute automated tigers...or bears.
And definitely no Sailor Moon :(
But the bed that night? It was made of pure happiness and gold. That phantom spring? That was extra support for my hip...it felt...so amazing, so...THERE, it was MEANT to be there, like a small hand holding the lower part of my body saying, "It is ok. I've got you, go to sleep, sweet prince."
The pillow...that's like 50 million years old? The pillow that if I cut it open, I'm sure only dust and one of the dead sea scrolls would come out instead of cotton? The one that becomes nothing as soon as your head hits it? In fact, the stuffing inside has this weird head phobia...it wants nothing to do with people sleeping on it. You touch it, and it splits to either side of your head, creating a set of afro sized ear muffs.
THAT Pillow?? Felt like an Egyptian pillow of amazing under my skull. It wasn't afraid of me, it was wrapping it's arms around me and cradling my neck.
"Dearest, sweetest Teffy." it whispered out, "I'll cradle your neck and create afro sized ear muffs to drown out any sound for you."
"My god, thank you, pillow...you are truly amazing."
"Never a problem, my amazing prince...now..give me your debit card PIN."
And in my state of stupor, I almost did it, but sleep grabbed me so fast. No lying there wondering what tomorrow would bring, no tenseness...just...uninterrupted sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling of a million bucks.
literally, like a herd of magnificient huge horned bucks. Absolutely not the metaphor you thought I was going for did you? A million of Bambi's dad...THAT awesome.
My whole day drifted, I was on cloud nine, I was in limbo. Not quite awake enough to care, yet not tired enough to want to sleep.
Oh.My.God, I wanted more. I hurried home that night and waited anxiously for 9 o'clock to roll around. *BOOM!* pill time! And this time, it was more magnificent. I expected it, I actually crawled out into the land of rainbows and unicorns. I played in the fields of promises of good dreams and lollipops. And when I hit the bed...stars...beautiful stars and butterflies flew from the blankets and danced around me.
About five days in, I realized "oh hey, there's only 15 pills in this bottle." Then I heard the doctor's voice chime in again, "We'll give you this to get started and see how it goes, just come back in about two weeks and we'll adjust it."
Not a problem, I don't suffer from insomnia. I went two nights without taking it, because I genuinely felt tired. Biggest mistake ever, I couldn't fall asleep to save my life.
I casually mentioned to MoonGoddes that I needed to go back to the doctor soon so I could get a refill. I also noticed something horrible, after about 10 pills, the magic wasn't there. I got groggy and laid down, but the thoughts started racing. The bed? It...it was uncomfortable again, I woke up all night again. I was such a grouch at work.
Ohhhh, that's what she meant by "Adjusting it."
The same day I mentioned I needed to go back to get the refill, I got a bill in the mail from the clinic. A BILL! I paid in full whilst I was there, and here they are saying I never paid at all.
"Well, at least you used your debit card, right?" Said MoonGoddess with a smile on her face, "Just get a transaction statement and show that to them."
"I paid in fricken cash..."
You would have thought somebody set a bag of kittens on fire in front of her with that statement, the way her face twisted around as she said back quite pleadingly, "please...pleeassee tell me you still have the receipt"
I'm notoriously awful about not keeping receipts. Like, reaaalllly awful. It could say on the bottom: "HOLD ONTO THIS RECEIPT FOR 5 DAYS AND YOU WILL GET FIVE TRILLION DOLLARS!"aaannddddd I'd probably lose it/throw it away in about two. But I DID find it after HOURS of searching!
The problem is, I'm now stuck in an in between stage. I'm not alert enough to watch a movie, or god forbid wash the dishes (That are now an impressive mountain and I'm sure that's a civilization starting on the South side over there.) or even watch anything on YouTube. I'm just...HERE.
And then it hit me, dammit...I have insomnia.
Now that I think of it...where DID I put that receipt after I found it?
....
....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Who hired that clown?!
I've been catching a lot of flak lately over my unnatural fear of clowns.
Let me break it down for you.
Clowns are supposed to be jovial drunks (hence the red nose) who stumble about and are fools. I can deal with that. For no reason, I had this moment of "WTF!" when I realized that you can't distinguish facial features. This fear was not brought on in my younger years, no...it fully developed in my late teens for no reason what so ever.
And if anyone says it's because of the movie "IT", stop right there, I've never seen that movie.
So imagine if Charles Manson broke out of prison tomorrow and then put on a clown get up. Hell, he could be standing by a "MOST WANTED" poster of himself and you wouldn't know it was him because his face is all painted, and he's wearing a big poofy fro.
I've tried to quell this aversion to clowns, trust me, I have. I've told myself over and over that clowns are people too (even though that balloon Uzi probably is real).
At one point in my life, My mom, two sisters and I, moved into a 3 bedroom house. My sister and I shared a room and our youngest sister got her own room. She had this shelf on the wall and guess what? She collected clown figurines, and not only cute jovial clown figurines, she collected clown figurines that I SWEAR the eyes followed you through her room.
At one point, we switched rooms and I got my own room, yet...the shelf stayed in there. I kept asking them to take it out, but they always said "ooooh there's so many figurines and the shelf is soooo heavy, just leave it up, it's not hurting anything."
OH but it WAS!
Every night I went to sleep under the ogling and nefarious gaze of 100 little painted clown eyes, until one night, riiiiight as I was on the verge of a deep sleep...*BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAM*
The ENTIRE shelf fell off the wall and catapulted clowns at me.
Now, they tried to tell me that the walls were thin and the weight of the shelf MUST have finally made the screws come loose from the wall,
But I knew...
...it was the clowns.
I gleefully went about my life, thinking "eh" about clowns until one day, while at my work (at an amusement park) I was opening the games for the day.
The sun was shining, and the air was perfect. Just crisp enough that you might need a jacket, but enough sun that it kept you warm...pure perfection. I had opened a game called "Duck Pond" and had just released 20 some odd little rubber duckies with sunglasses on them to swim eternally in a circle.
Life was good.
I walked towards the downhill area of the park, gleefully gazing into the distance and taking in the absolutely PERFECT weather (did I mention this day was PERFECT?!), when all of a sudden *squish*.
Not like "ewwww I stepped on something" squish, but "OH man! I stepped on something/someone/animal" squish. I figured a towel or a shoe had been left behind in the path and I had accidentally stepped on it, so I broke my gaze (and all of this happened in about .002 seconds) and looked down...
To a...big red shoe?
"WELL OW-OW-OW HA HA HA!!!" came this booming voice, punctuated with a *HONK*HONK* from a bike horn, and I turned and was face to face with a clown.
I was later told that it "Bozo" the clown, although it wasn't technically "Bozo" it was our state's 'version' of Bozo, and he was there in the park doing a children's event.
I should have laughed, or played it off or something. But instantly, everything in my life came up...because I was FACE TO FRICKEN FACE with a clown and my first thought was "you stepped on his foot, he's going to kill you and nobody knows what he really looks like!"
"WHY HI THERE *HONK*HONK* I'm Bozo!"
"o_O.......................AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!! *runs away*"
That's right. 19 years old, and I ran away screaming like a toddler. And I didn't stop screaming when he was out of site, either. I screamed all the way across the park, and into the compound where the employees stayed, I screamed up that hill too, I screamed until I hit the guard shack gate and was clamoring trying to get out.
although, you can't just "get out" you had to swipe your employee badge for the gate to unlock, but there was NO time for that during massive panic.
I was eventually surrounded by a few of the managers, and talked down from climbing the fence while still in a high pitch wailing session. My boss assured me, that I would be kept away from the clown, and she would see to it, that my schedule did not coincide with the clown's schedule...meaning I wouldn't turn around buying a corn dog, and painted mass murderer was standing behind me or anything.
I thought that was awfully kind of her, but I forgot that she was delightfully evil and locked my fear of clowns away in the back of her mind and it would come back later to haunt me (literally).
She told me I handled the situation well, my run-in with Bozo. I told her I was almost 20, I shouldn't be scared of clowns. She said back to me "you handled it better than Leslie, and she's almost 40." I looked over to another manager, who was in a ball against the building, rocking back and forth crying and muttering through sobs "nobody told me there was going to be a clown here, why is there a clown here?!?! Who hired that clown?!??!!"
Ok, so at least I'm not that bad.
In ending this entry, I'll share her evil pay off to my unbelievably unrealistic fear of clowns.
See, she was the type of boss, that if you said "I don't like doing this" you ended up doing it for a month, because she would always say "you love doing it, you just don't know it yet."
Halloween came, and she asked me to work. I said sure, thinking I was going to be running a game (since that was my job). I was informed that I was going to be in the haunted house. There was a gag where there is a 'body' on the table and a mad scientist cutting up the body. I was to be tied up, and when groups of people came by, I had to start screaming "help me!" because I was next.
Blah blah blah, typical low budget gag.
They get me all tied up, and the guy walks in who's the mad scientist and we get to chatting (which, it's kind of awkward to carry on a casual conversation with a mad scientist when you're tied to a giant beam). My boss came through and said "Did they really tie you up?"
"Yeah, it's kinda nice, I don't have to like hold my arms up all night, they're just there"
"So you can't get out or anything?"
"No I can't move at all, so don't forget me at the end of the night haha"
The most WICKED grin came across her face and she said "GOOD!" and had the mad scientist leave. He was then replaced by an EVIL CLOWN COVERED IN BLOOD!
WITH A MACHETE!!!!!!
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
"You think you hate clowns"
"I KNOW I HATE CLOWNS!!"
"WELL THEN! This will give you a valid reason to hate them!! have fun!"
Oh the people loved it, "wow this is SO realistic!"
I literally screamed for my life the entire night. And it didn't stop at "Help me!" I was pleading with people:
"HEY! HEY! HELP ME! GET ME DOWN!!! PLEASE THE CLOWN IS GOING TO KILL ME!! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I'LL CLEAN YOUR CAR!!!"
"HEY MAN!!! YOU GOT CATS?! I GROOM THEM! I'LL CLEAN LITTER BOXES!! PLEASE!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"
Ahh...god, I'm so tense right now...
Let me break it down for you.
- Picture of clowns = Ok (my mom had a Mr. Bojangles clown painting...loved it)
- Ronald McDonald = 50% ok
- Clown figurines = -100% NOT ok
- Clown in real life = -10000000% NOT ok
Clowns are supposed to be jovial drunks (hence the red nose) who stumble about and are fools. I can deal with that. For no reason, I had this moment of "WTF!" when I realized that you can't distinguish facial features. This fear was not brought on in my younger years, no...it fully developed in my late teens for no reason what so ever.
And if anyone says it's because of the movie "IT", stop right there, I've never seen that movie.
So imagine if Charles Manson broke out of prison tomorrow and then put on a clown get up. Hell, he could be standing by a "MOST WANTED" poster of himself and you wouldn't know it was him because his face is all painted, and he's wearing a big poofy fro.
I've tried to quell this aversion to clowns, trust me, I have. I've told myself over and over that clowns are people too (even though that balloon Uzi probably is real).
At one point in my life, My mom, two sisters and I, moved into a 3 bedroom house. My sister and I shared a room and our youngest sister got her own room. She had this shelf on the wall and guess what? She collected clown figurines, and not only cute jovial clown figurines, she collected clown figurines that I SWEAR the eyes followed you through her room.
At one point, we switched rooms and I got my own room, yet...the shelf stayed in there. I kept asking them to take it out, but they always said "ooooh there's so many figurines and the shelf is soooo heavy, just leave it up, it's not hurting anything."
OH but it WAS!
Every night I went to sleep under the ogling and nefarious gaze of 100 little painted clown eyes, until one night, riiiiight as I was on the verge of a deep sleep...*BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAM*
The ENTIRE shelf fell off the wall and catapulted clowns at me.
Now, they tried to tell me that the walls were thin and the weight of the shelf MUST have finally made the screws come loose from the wall,
But I knew...
...it was the clowns.
I gleefully went about my life, thinking "eh" about clowns until one day, while at my work (at an amusement park) I was opening the games for the day.
The sun was shining, and the air was perfect. Just crisp enough that you might need a jacket, but enough sun that it kept you warm...pure perfection. I had opened a game called "Duck Pond" and had just released 20 some odd little rubber duckies with sunglasses on them to swim eternally in a circle.
Life was good.
I walked towards the downhill area of the park, gleefully gazing into the distance and taking in the absolutely PERFECT weather (did I mention this day was PERFECT?!), when all of a sudden *squish*.
Not like "ewwww I stepped on something" squish, but "OH man! I stepped on something/someone/animal" squish. I figured a towel or a shoe had been left behind in the path and I had accidentally stepped on it, so I broke my gaze (and all of this happened in about .002 seconds) and looked down...
To a...big red shoe?
"WELL OW-OW-OW HA HA HA!!!" came this booming voice, punctuated with a *HONK*HONK* from a bike horn, and I turned and was face to face with a clown.
I was later told that it "Bozo" the clown, although it wasn't technically "Bozo" it was our state's 'version' of Bozo, and he was there in the park doing a children's event.
I should have laughed, or played it off or something. But instantly, everything in my life came up...because I was FACE TO FRICKEN FACE with a clown and my first thought was "you stepped on his foot, he's going to kill you and nobody knows what he really looks like!"
"WHY HI THERE *HONK*HONK* I'm Bozo!"
"o_O.......................AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!! *runs away*"
That's right. 19 years old, and I ran away screaming like a toddler. And I didn't stop screaming when he was out of site, either. I screamed all the way across the park, and into the compound where the employees stayed, I screamed up that hill too, I screamed until I hit the guard shack gate and was clamoring trying to get out.
although, you can't just "get out" you had to swipe your employee badge for the gate to unlock, but there was NO time for that during massive panic.
I was eventually surrounded by a few of the managers, and talked down from climbing the fence while still in a high pitch wailing session. My boss assured me, that I would be kept away from the clown, and she would see to it, that my schedule did not coincide with the clown's schedule...meaning I wouldn't turn around buying a corn dog, and painted mass murderer was standing behind me or anything.
I thought that was awfully kind of her, but I forgot that she was delightfully evil and locked my fear of clowns away in the back of her mind and it would come back later to haunt me (literally).
She told me I handled the situation well, my run-in with Bozo. I told her I was almost 20, I shouldn't be scared of clowns. She said back to me "you handled it better than Leslie, and she's almost 40." I looked over to another manager, who was in a ball against the building, rocking back and forth crying and muttering through sobs "nobody told me there was going to be a clown here, why is there a clown here?!?! Who hired that clown?!??!!"
Ok, so at least I'm not that bad.
In ending this entry, I'll share her evil pay off to my unbelievably unrealistic fear of clowns.
See, she was the type of boss, that if you said "I don't like doing this" you ended up doing it for a month, because she would always say "you love doing it, you just don't know it yet."
Halloween came, and she asked me to work. I said sure, thinking I was going to be running a game (since that was my job). I was informed that I was going to be in the haunted house. There was a gag where there is a 'body' on the table and a mad scientist cutting up the body. I was to be tied up, and when groups of people came by, I had to start screaming "help me!" because I was next.
Blah blah blah, typical low budget gag.
They get me all tied up, and the guy walks in who's the mad scientist and we get to chatting (which, it's kind of awkward to carry on a casual conversation with a mad scientist when you're tied to a giant beam). My boss came through and said "Did they really tie you up?"
"Yeah, it's kinda nice, I don't have to like hold my arms up all night, they're just there"
"So you can't get out or anything?"
"No I can't move at all, so don't forget me at the end of the night haha"
The most WICKED grin came across her face and she said "GOOD!" and had the mad scientist leave. He was then replaced by an EVIL CLOWN COVERED IN BLOOD!
WITH A MACHETE!!!!!!
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
"You think you hate clowns"
"I KNOW I HATE CLOWNS!!"
"WELL THEN! This will give you a valid reason to hate them!! have fun!"
Oh the people loved it, "wow this is SO realistic!"
I literally screamed for my life the entire night. And it didn't stop at "Help me!" I was pleading with people:
"HEY! HEY! HELP ME! GET ME DOWN!!! PLEASE THE CLOWN IS GOING TO KILL ME!! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I'LL CLEAN YOUR CAR!!!"
"HEY MAN!!! YOU GOT CATS?! I GROOM THEM! I'LL CLEAN LITTER BOXES!! PLEASE!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"
Ahh...god, I'm so tense right now...
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