Mark Wahlberg, and other things that go bump in the night.

While watching a particularly gruesome episode of Nip/Tuck this weekend, I was reminded of my friend Oliver's freakish fear of blood. I know a lot people are a little timid when it comes to blood, but Oliver couldn't stand even hearing the word blood. And for that matter, he couldn't stand hearing the descriptive words of what blood does, like spurt, gush, and the worst being ooze. This was a fear I, of course, completely exploited. (Poor Ollie, if he's reading this he's already fainted by now.)

But this got me to thinking. We all have those same generic fears of dying in a horrible way, or what Crazy Larry in front of the 7-11 is looking at with his one wonky eye. But what are the rest of us freakishly afraid of? I asked around the office got some pretty good answers. Everything from bugs that don't die when squashed to lint screens on dryers to Mark Wahlberg in that one movie where he carves his chest.

I heard it and thought wow that would make a fetching entry. (mainly because I couldn't think of anything else to write about – I mean how many dog pics can we look at.) (This is otherwise known as my freakish fear that my creativity will run out)

So, I'm about let in on what scares Tweets to her inner most core.

1.
Lightning – um yeah, don't laugh. Lightning is some freaky shit. It all started when the local electric company came to my elementary for a demonstration on electricity and safety. Because apparently there are a lot of kids running around Oklahoma frolicking with downed power lines while in a torrential downpour in an open field. They brought in giant transformers and mammoth crackling Jacob's ladders to demonstrate the crazy power of electricity.

For the kicker, they took a hot dog – meant to represent a wee tot's innocent finger – and ran umpteen hundreds watts of electricity through it. And you know what that hot dog did? It blew'd up. Into a billion tiny pieces. And the Electricity Company Guy, with a creepy smile on his face, says something like, "Jeepers kids! That's only a tenth of what lightning is packing." Oh yeah? Yeah. While all the other kids were say something to the effect of COOOOOOOL, I sat frozen in place. Wide eyed, mouth agape, shaking in my koolats.

I vowed right then and there to never fuck with electricity for as long as I lived. Which is a fine goal for something like avoiding downed power lines, but lightning? You can't control that beast. (And yes I realize it's very unlikely to be struck by lightning, but if I happened to be lucky at being unlucky in one aspect of my life I'm sure lightning strikes would be it.) So, to this day if I happen to be in an open field and feel a drop of rain on my skin I FA-REAK the fuck out. I run around asking people – hey are my hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

So yeah, if it's raining I'm the one you'll find running around screaming how we should Get inside the car because the tires will protect you! or Get off the phone! or Get away from that tree! and for God's sakes Don't take a shower!

Then there's that whole bloody murder sceaming thing that happens when lightning strikes within a five mile radius of me.

2.
Alligators/Crocodiles – Doesn't matter which one because frankly? I don't know the difference between them. And I don't care. They are both equally terrifying.

I know it's not rare to be afraid of giant prehistoric animals whose sole purpose it is to devour other animals with their lethal fangs, but hear me out. First, it really creeps me out that these things can just appear in people's pools or worse their toilets. Not to mention they can take down a deer in a single gulp. Plus I have a natural distrust for animals that are sneaky. For example, you could just be gallivanting away in some swamp in southern Florida (could happen!) and turn your head and see some giant gator eyeball staring right back at you. Goodbye arms and legs, hello crap in pants.

And even though being completely aware of this fear, I was handed a book (by a family member no less) that was essentially When Animals Attack! in paperback form. For one afternoon I sat transfixed reading the alligator and crocodile chapter – including every gory detail – about how much gators enjoy munching on their prey, that prey being people. Good times, really.

See, I discovered all sorts of fun facts like even though gators bite down on you real hard, that's not really what kills you – oh no! – instead you die because the grab a hold of you and take you underwater and twirl you around a bit until you drowned. And don't think climbing a tree is going to save you because crocs can jump something like eighty feet, give or take. Sounds fabulous, no?

Plus the book was filled with such glorious testimonials of the fact that YES! gators are dangerous, avoid them at all costs. People that told stories of how they were having a gay ol' time swimming somewhere of the coast of someplace when all of the sudden a gator came and snatched up their friend, and how after hours of searching, they found nothing but her mangled body. Oh but the horror doesn't end there, because once they get her body in a body bag to take somewhere not infested by gators, the gators follow her "scent" the whole way home. Jumping up and nipping at the body bag. Apparently they were hungry for a little midnight snack.

Did I mention I was reading this book in FLOR. IDA! A place where there are actual gators or crocodiles OR WHATEVER.

You know what else Florida is known for? Most Lightning Strikes in America. Talk about a stress free vacation.

H.W.J.V.?

How do you know when you're living in a red state? The teaser for your local news opens up this way:

"The Gay Rights and Marriage Bill and how would Jesus vote."

Unbearable Cuteness Ahead

I know, Two Posts, One Day. It's like the feeling you get when you win the lottery. Not the Powerball of course, more like when you win 25 bucks on the scratch-offs.

Trust me, I have a lot to talk about, and work is finally back to Mildly Hectic so there's actually time for my brain to decompress and not have think about web banners 99% of the day.

So where to begin – the trip to the fair, Halloween's shenanigans, Laguna Beach, cool autumn nights, Grey's Anatomy? Oh, I know! Lily.

Well, here she is.


Meet Lily. It only took us five days of different names to name her. So in addition to Lily she will answer to Maggie and Pixie. Hear that Romeo? She answers to three names, you think you could answer to yours? Ever?

This past weekend Charlie and I awoke on a beautiful Saturday morning, wiped the sleep out of our eyes, made the bed. Smiled at Romeo, our precious little pup, and then skipped into the kitchen to grab a glass of orange juice. Returned to the bed to find that Romeo? Had pissed on it. Again. And we looked at one another and said, "Let's get another one because this, this is so much fun!"

No lie. We went to the Shelter right then. Unlike last time, there weren't any tears and only a mild instance of hysterics when someone tried to snatch the dog I was going for. Oh no you di-int!

And by god I was going to look at every damn dog that Shelter had. I was determined to make a well thought out and planned decision, no matter how long it took or how many times Chuck whined, "Juuuust pick one, I want some luuuuuunch, wah wah wah." Haste never pays off at the Shelter (see above Piss/Bed incident for proof) (Just kidding, I love you Romeo!)

And it wasn't going too well. Charlie nixed the three legged dog because is A MEANIE. And I nixed the dog who came into the "Get to Know You Room" and promptly pissed on everything that wasn't ten feet off the ground because? AAAH, flashbacks to my first dog Ozzie and pee covered Christmas presents. The seven hundred other dogs we brought in were terrified of Romeo. (And the thing that's worse than going to the Shelter and not getting a dog, is actually taking the dogs out of their kennels and playing with them only to decide that the dog won't work for you. So you have to return its kennel, all the while the dog is looking at you like "hey give me one more chance, and look I can do tricks just please don't put me back in that kennel confirming once again for my fragile psyche that no one loves me." Yeah that sucked.)

So there I was cooing at a litter of Labradoodles, (knowing Charlie would nix them because TOO MUCH HAIR! but OH MY GOD they were cute) trying to ignore the yippy dog next to me, and secretly eyeing the lady holding the adorable Chihuahua with an underbite, and it was then that Lily caught my eye. She just sat there and stared me big ol' puppy dog eyes and would you just look at those YOO-GE ears. It sounds really stupid and trite now, but at the time it felt like she was calling me. And lucky for her, she could handle Romeo and all his Romeo-ness.

So we took her home. The whole time we were in the car Romeo was like whuuuuuuut? This thing isn't leaving?

Oh boy more puppy pics!


Meet the kids. (When I say that Charlie's whole body tenses up and I just know his brain is screaming NOOOOOOOOOO) Oh and by the way, I have to mention that we were doing laundry (see above Piss/Bed incident) I would hate you to think that we live the kind of life where we don't put bed sheets on our bed.



Romeo is all like, you can keep trying but it's not going to work, I know because I tried it like hundreds times at the dog park. Seriously, it will never fit.




Oh. My. God. Call the Lifetime Channel right now because that is the sappiest pile of sappy cuteness.


Romeo would like everyone to know that even though there's a new pup in town – he still owns this bitch.

Exodus and Irony

Ha ha, I was only kidding when I said it wouldn't be another month before I updated.

Okay here's the deal. See I had big plans to organize my side of the closet for I am an unorganized mess of a girl – I bought drawers and shelves to boot – and I had planned to update when that was done. That way I could post some pictures of The Great Closet Organization Celebration '05 and I could be all Look! at what I did, for I am a person with organizational skills. And all of us would oooh and aaaah, and then you guys would shower me with all sorts of organizational praise. And life would be Good. But alas it didn't work out that way. As of right now, the closet is only moderately organized, but no fear today is the day that I will have plenty of extra time to get to it. Right. Today.

Oh, but I have a nice big excuse for being unorganized. Charlie decided to quit his job. I know that's what I said too. And two weeks after I officially moved all my stuff down to Dallas no less. And for a week I thought he going to move all the way out to North Carolina, which is? Like all the way across the country. Clearly an unorganized closet was the last thing on my mind. I was more occupied with keeping potential flying projectiles out of my hands, lest Charlie "accidentally" walk in front of a flying flat iron. Because in case y'all didn't know, everything is about ME.

And Charlie is the only person in the world who can quit his job (with no job to take its place) and have two jobs lined up for him to consider within a week. TWO! Most of us are lucky to be offered A Job, let alone two jobs that would necessitate A Decision. But that's Charlie for ya, one lucky son of a bi-atch.

So after much Quality Decision Making and Thinking, in which he listened to none of my sage advice (and still ended up doing what I told him to do, but gave me none of the credit) he choose to take a freelance gig where he gets to design video game characters. For a living! How freaking cool is that? And the best part is that this job not in North Carolina, it's in – wait for it - Chicago. Oh. The. Irony. But now I can say yeah, that's my boyfriend he designs twelve headed fire snot spewing dragons for a living. Jealous much? (See, all about ME)

And with this job he won't be stuck in some cube. And he never has to listen to another stupid account executive. Plus he will be able to travel when he wants, and he can work from Dallas, Minneapolis, Tennessee, the moon, wherever there's an internet connection. HUGE plus for him because he apparently cannot adopt the sedentary lifestyle. I mean for goodness sakes dude, just sit still for a second. And we all know that I, personally, have not one problem with that lifestyle.

And the proof is in the pudding or in my case the closet.