The Most Terrifying Thing!

I am extremely protective of my photos. Sometimes I think I would go into serious depression if something were to ever happen to them. So naturally, when my computer informs me that it has no more space (literally), I try to deny that this is due to the thousands of photos I have on it. The thought of even moving, let alone deleting my photos is absolutely terrifying! But unfortunately, it is something that must be done and it is a careful task that I take very seriously. 

The first thing I do is copy all of the photos onto my external hard-drive, note that I don’t “move” the files, I copy. Why? What if something goes terribly wrong?! Maybe that one time I try to move them, they will somehow get lost in space and I will never get them back! So yea, I copy. I always happily sit and watch as the numbers count down, from however many thousand, as they are all being copied over... until that notice pops up asking if I want to copy the duplicate photo... Duplicate? I have a copy of this already?? Where?! I don’t believe you!! I want to.... but my paranoia won’t let me! So YES, copy them anyways! Tens of thousands of photos are not enough to deal with, lets copy DOUBLES of some so when I go back months from now to organize all the photos on my hard-drive I can be frustrated over not knowing which photos I have doubles of and I can then NOT delete any because of my continued paranoia.

Once the photos are copied, I move on to the process of scrolling through all of the copied pictures. Not that I actually remember every single picture and am going to notice if one didn’t happen to copy over, but I sure as hell am going to pretend like I would. Next, I move on to the cycle of unplugging and re-plugging in the hard-drive, just to make sure they are really, REALLY on there. Each time re-scrolling through all of the pictures of course. 

So then comes the most terrifying part, deleting the photos that remain on my computer. The photos that I am SURE I have copied onto my hard-drive. I have checked and rechecked and I am positive it has all been copied and saved. However, knowing this is not at all comforting when my cursor is hovering over that stupid delete button. I check ONE more time! Just to make absolutely positively sure! You know, just in case that hovering action might have made all my photos disappear somehow... Once I come back to this final step, it usually takes a few seconds of self-encouragement and a couple deep breaths before I squint my eyes and finally take the plunge!! 

“Are you sure you want to permanently delete these items? This action cannot be undone.” 

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHYYYY???? Why do you do this to me?!? I already pushed delete! Why would you ask me that? No, I'm not sure anymore! I can’t take this!

Bug Radar

You know when you’re sitting outside, and for some reason you spot a bug off in the distance and you just can’t help but watch it? It’s like, somehow you instinctively know THAT bug is going to come after you... To onlookers, you are not phased by anything at all, you keep your cool and maintain your conversation because that bug is now on your radar, there is no need to panic.

Radar Command Center (RCC): Spastic flying patterns are increasingly annoying and may be cause for concern. 

RCC: Send out the occasional fleeting glare!

RCC: Possible communication barrier detected! Suspect is closing in! Prepare swatting reflexes! 

RCC: Attempt casual swat.... NOW!

RCC: Suspect is not deterred!! And is seemingly flying ten times faster than before! Predicted target location: Face! Remaining calm and undistracted is now second priority! Stop talking! Lock eyes on suspect! Direct all focus to impeding attack!

RCC: MAYDAY! MAYDAY! IT’S NOT STOPPING!!!

RCC: Release all gut reactions that were previously suppressed for the purpose of image preservation!! Contact Embarrassment Control Center and prepare them for the worst!

Yup. I hate those bugs.

The Responsibilities of the Tickler

Tickling can be an extremely dangerous activity.

1. When in the state of being tickled, the victim is no longer in control of their appendages. Spontaneous kicks, punches, headbutts or scratching may occur without warning. You are tickling at your own risk. If you decide to engage, you waive all rights to be mad or complain after said injury occurs. 
2. Beware of uncontrollable laughter. While it may be a sign of having a good time, it can also be a sign of incapacitation.
3. Indecipherable words or incomplete sentences may indicate an inadequate supply of oxygen. Momentary breaks are advised to maintain stable breathing patterns. If you misinterpreted the uncontrollable laughter, it is likely you will continue to tickle without breaks. If there is a prolonged silence, wheezing-like noises, or facial discoloration, you are STRONGLY urged to take a break.
4. Perfect your tickling technique. Nobody likes pokey fingers. The game can go from fun to painful very quickly.
5. Know the difference between ssstopppp! and STOP!

When Apologies Just Don't Help

I’m sorry for saying that. I’m sorry for offending you. I’m sorry for making you mad. I'm sorry for annoying you by saying sorry so much. Now let me switch to saying I apologize, so that I don’t wear out all my sorry's too soon. I’m pretty sure most of what I am starting to apologize for is completely out of my control, but I am accepting the blame for it by apologizing, and you aren’t disagreeing, so lets keep this going. Now let me add “truly” and “honestly” to all of my sorry’s, since I have now said it so much that I don’t think you even recognize the fact that I am apologizing to you anymore. How about you keep not responding with a reciprocal apology, so that I can be more annoyed at the whole situation and feel even more resentful about ever saying I’m sorry in the first place. Now that I think about it, I don’t know that I even did anything wrong, but I’m on such a role that I might as well apologize for my inconvenient birth, my decision to speak, and my lack of foresight when it came to the repercussions of my initial apology.

They Get Cold Too!

Sometimes I try to convince myself that I don’t feel bad for inanimate objects. But then I will randomly catch myself in my room, putting on a huge comfy sweatshirt because I am cold, and I will see this forlorn doll laying pant-less in the corner and I can’t help but feel that something is horribly wrong with that situation. It’s like I’m the big, cruel giant that gets to change clothes on my own, be warm, talk, eat and sleep in a big comfy bed, all because I am human... They didn’t choose to be lifeless! 

Maybe it’s because I have too much time and nothing else to think about. Maybe it's because they resemble living things (Furby never was, nor ever will be a part of this elite group). Maybe it's because I think of good memories when I look at them and I decide that I must somehow make-up for the fact that one day I just lost interest in them, left them to live in shame for years in the corner of my room... some, without pants. Once I start thinking like this, it’s hard to just let it go and walk away. I will reminisce about all the good times we shared, and the guilt just starts to eat at me.

It's not always the same situation, sometimes this happens because I found one buried under a mess of stuff, sometimes I just look a little too long at their sad little beady eyes. But something just calls out to me, feel sorry for me! Saaaave me!! 

I know it sounds crazy, that’s why I always ignore it.

But once the thought has occurred to me, it won’t just go away...

I try to fight it.

but if I have already thought about it for this long, I'm doomed. I'm annoyed and embarrassed that I have already spent that long contemplating it, I'm just gonna do it and get it over with! It will take 2 seconds and then I won't have to think about it anymore!

Sometimes I put a blanket on top of it, to ease my little mind that is telling me that this dang INANIMATE OBJECT is cold... I do a double-take first to make sure that nobody is witnessing this action. If this occurs an uncomfortable one too many times, I start to wonder if maybe blankets are too obvious, that someone will start to notice the oh-too-convenient placement of them, so instead, I will strategically throw my dirty shirt on top of the poor thing I am trying to save, convinced that any little bit helps... and then I walk by to check and make sure that their face is not covered, because I don’t want to be responsible for a suffocation accident.

Defensive Tactics

What would I do if someone broke into my house right now? What would I do if someone was hiding in that bush and jumped out at me? What if someone is around the corner RIGHT now and is about to attack me?.... These types of questions never fail to occur to me at the most random times. Usually when I am alone, which I guess is good on some level, because I wouldn’t want to be distracted when I’m figuring out my escape plan. It could be a matter of life or death. 

I always laugh at myself when these thoughts first cross my mind. 

and then I try to suppress them... but the thoughts just linger... 

I can’t help but think about it now!

I guess it can’t be the worst thing to waste my time thinking about. Technically it COULD save my life. Anything can happen. I’m actually just being smart! Proactive! Preparing myself for any situation.

The way I see it, there are different ways to handle such a situation if it were to occur, a lot of which depends on your surroundings of course. For example, being attacked outside versus being trapped in your house. And for that matter, being trapped on the easily escapable side of your house versus being inconveniently trapped in that one room with no windows or doors that lead to safety. Unless of course, you magically have an intricate tunnel-type system between the walls of your house that link you to the other rooms and to freedom, as I like to believe about my house (note: There is no indication of this system from the outside... my entrance is entirely invisible to the people attacking me). 

Option 1: Stand scared frozen and unfortunately do absolutely nothing useful or productive. Although I acknowledge that this is likely the most realistic reaction, I completely disregard it, for the sheer fact that this IS a hypothetical situation, and I like to imagine myself being a bit more badass.

Option 2: Run away. Sounds boring, but we are talking about running at lightning speed! Hopping fences, climbing up fire escapes, leaping from rooftop to rooftop! Typical superhero type stuff.

Option 3: Stand my ground and face them like a true ninja warrior. Not knowing how to fight is totally irrelevant because when the time comes, I will just instinctively know how to beat the S*** out of these people! Doesn’t matter how many there are or how stealthy their attack is, they would be no match for my crazy awesome attack moves!

So today, when I was home alone, standing in the bathroom, these questions about spontaneous attack crossed my mind again, and as I pondered the usual options, I looked at myself in the mirror (at which time I was highlighting my own hair with one of those cheap do-it-yourself kits.... which involves wearing this cap thing that you pull random hairs through to highlight....)

And for some strange reason, this option occurred to me.

Option 4: (designed for the lesser dramatic, simple home break ins and attacks): Look and act as crazy as possible! Depending on the time of day and my sugar intake, this really may not be too difficult to achieve. Maybe my attackers will be so frightened by my rabid squirrel-like actions that they will leave me alone!

No matter how many countless times I have thought through these situations, and how prepared I SHOULD be, I will still forever HATE when these questions pop into my head when I am driving home late at night. I will continue to run from my car to the front door without looking at any bushes, and walk directly to my room without looking left or right. Not that I am scared or anything of course... I just don't want to take away my enemy's element of surprise, it just ruins all the fun!

The Best Story Ever!

Do you ever think of something that you are just so excited to tell someone? Not just ANY thing, something SO good that it requires careful planning on how it will be shared. I don’t know why it requires this, but it just does, because since the moment it popped into your head, it has become your self-proclaimed duty to ensure that it’s going to be the best story ever and you have to make sure that the listener will get maximum enjoyment out of it. You are so proud of this thing and it is absolutely necessary that they think it is as great as you do. So you strategize, plan and practice. You giggle to yourself as you tell the story over and over again in your head because you are just so smitten with yourself, your intellect and your incredible sense of humor. You make sure that you have the perfect combination of words for that clutch sentence in the story. You try to refrain from enlarging your eyes as you practice your emphasises so that passers-by don’t think you are crazy. It is all in the name of perfection. While doing this, you also envision the perfect reaction you are going to receive after this story. The hysterical laughter, followed by the comment about how ridiculously funny you are. There are multiple possibilities, all of which ideally include some form of a compliment. But you’re not naive, you can’t expect it to be that easy. They may throw out negative remarks or questions, or attempt to top your story, so you have prepared follow-up stories or jokes to tell that will guarantee your moment of glory and that compliment.

So then the time comes, the moment that you have been waiting for. Light will finally be shed on your genius! You are just so overjoyed that the excitement is written all over your face, causing them to jump the gun and ask what you’re so happy about! A question that alters the prepared lead into your story and sends a few nerves to break up your smile. But no worries! You’ve got your story on lock! You simply rearrange a few sentences and YOU’RE OFF! Your explosion of a story has begun! 

There! You did it! You didn’t think it was possible, but you still found joy in hearing yourself tell it for the thousandth time! It couldn’t have been said any better! You wait in anticipation for the reaction! But then there’s that pause that lasts a split second too long... the not quite loud enough laughter... the comment that you swear is the one comment in the history of comments to kill any chance of a comeback to save your story and your pride. There is nothing to say, no further discussion. There is no compliment. You would have preferred the negative remark or the annoying story-topper... at least you were prepared for that. But this? The awkward, not overly impressed, not so responsive, failure to appreciate everything that was so great about that story. What do you do? Your joy is instantly gone. You try to maintain your smile, mostly so they have something to look at other than your angry eyes that are screaming YOU SUUUUUUCK!!!! You are just so beyond upset that their reaction wasn’t what you had hoped. It’s like, you were SO proud of this thing, you took the time to think about the PERFECT way to tell it... but they couldn’t be bothered to react exactly how you had planned... inconsiderate jerks. But it’s over. You’re just too annoyed now, and the person doesn’t understand what happened. You aren’t going to confess that you carefully planned and practiced how you were going to tell them, and that they ruined your ideal reaction. Who wants to admit that they spent a ridiculous amount of time on that, or admit that they really weren’t paying attention to anything the other person said in the last 5 minutes, because they were STILL thinking about it? That's just going to make you look stupid. Plus, it ruins any credit you would get for spontaneity or great story telling skills. So then they ask what’s wrong? What happened? Did I do something wrong? GAHH! THEY are what’s wrong! You WERE happy! and YES! THEY DID! But what are you supposed to say? You ruined it? You ruining, fun sucking person! You didn’t read my mind and now I hate you! There’s just no appropriate response. So instead, you just sit there and look like a grumpy, unsatisfied, closet complainer. Quite the opposite from where you started.... Way to ruin the best story ever...