What the hell kind of people are reading my mom blog?

I just noticed blogger keeps a "Search keyword" history to see what sort of searches bring traffic here.

My shit is BIZ.ZARRE.

Here's a list of the weirdest ones:

heart shaved vagina

gun into her crotch

my size barbie sex

women long nipples

potty shot of girl with a bulge

alien baby with hair

weird mucus from vagina

fuck life size barbie doll
your diaper is showing
jelly fetus

Actually, some of them are quite disturbing.  And then others make a disturbing amount of sense.  I was worried about my dad reading my overshare, but apparently who I really need to be worried about is giant Barbie fetishists who like to stroke the heart shaped box with a gun.

The internet is a fun place.

I googled "jelly fetus" and this was one of the top pictures that cracked me up, so I will now proudly be forever connected to this other person's blog.  I wonder what sort of weird search hits they get.

Future scared white woman

Whenever I turn the vacuum on, Leela starts yelling and screaming because she's scared of the loud sound.  But then she crawls toward it as fast as she can to see what the sound is. 

It reminds me of the opening scene of every thriller/horror movie where the young, vulnerable, pretty white lady is home alone at night and she hears a noise in the next room of her giant house, and rather than calling the cops or getting the hell out of there, she walks toward the sound with her wooden spatula as a weapon, and everyone in the audience is screaming NO YOU DUMB WOMAN, TURN AROUND!

I hope Leela gets some sense to her before she can run.

There's another man in my life

His name is John John. 

He's Violet's imaginary friend.

And he fucking creeps me out.

Our first introduction to "him" was in July, right after Joe and I had watched a scary movie in the past week, and Violet's all pointing to the doorway in our bedroom and talking to it like they used to be best friends but haven't seen each other in a while.  WTF.  Anyway, so then a few weeks later, he's in our living room by a doorway again.  She's telling me where he is and then walking over to him and handing him stuff.  They even played flashcards!  Which is cool with me if this weirdo ghost guy wants to keep Violet up on her letter sounds (though he seemed to kinda suck, because she kept saying "What's dis?.... noooooooo!"  It's obviously a Q idiot.  Anyway.)  For a while she was seeing him everywhere, and even though he's not real I felt violated.  Why is this imaginary MAN in my house alone with me and my two daughters, playing with one of them?  And not helping clean some dishes or something at least?

She forgot about him for a while, or maybe he was out of town, I dunno.  But then he came back, and now his name is John John!  (Oh, maybe he was an illegal immigrant and he was away trying to get his papers in order?)  The weird thing is, Violet has NEVER named anything.  Any time I ask her "What's its name?" she repeats back to me "What's its name?!" with her little over-inflected voice.  The closest she's come is when I was "helping" her name her My Little Ponies the other day, and I named one Purple Nurple and she changed it to Purple Durple (one of them is also named Dave - for some reason that makes me laugh).  So on one hand, that's kinda cool that she maybe has hit some Gives Play Objects Names milestone by giving this "him" a real human name.  But on the other hand, what if he gave himself that name?  And just now told her because he was tired of hearing me ask what his name is all the time?  All the what-ifs that come with this John John fella are just too much for me (What if he's sitting on my lap and laughing while I poop?!  Because that's what I'd do if I was a ghost.)

So, I dunno.  This guy needs to get out or start contributing to the bills.  I don't think he eats anything, except maybe souls, but he's probably walking around turning lights on and off all the time when we're sleeping, so ghost better gimme my money!

It's happening!

Remember I was talking about how I suck and never follow through with blogging?  Well... I feel I'm slowly drifting towards Neverneverblog Land.  I blame part of that on the fact that I realized last week that my father and sister read this crap and now I feel all violated.  Like I realize this is a public blog and all, but I just assume that when I post something A) no one will actually read it, and B) that the few people who do read it don't actually know me as more than a bunch of words on a screen.  Good thing I didn't write anything embarassing or incriminating about either of them, like how I'm pretty sure one of them smokes the ganja.

Another reason I haven't been blogging is because I have a very specific idea for a Roll Model blog and I'm so ADD that every time I sit down to write I can't think about anything else but this hypothetical blog... and curtains and unicorns and zombies and Dora... but nothing else blog-related.  Unfortunately it involves me taking pictures of myself, and I just haven't lost enough weight yet to voluntarily post pictures of my fat flaps on the internets.

So until I get drunk enough or rich enough to get the whole world drunk enough to put their beer goggles on while viewing pictures of me, here's my latest random thought, brought to you by Pinterest.

You know what would be the most comfortable place to sleep ever?  Space.  The second most comfortable place?  Underwater.  Wearing one of those underwater breathing apparatus from Harry Potter.  OMG I die just thinking about it.  With all the warmth and weightlessness and no back pain and no boob squishing if I want to sleep stomach down.  Like being in a womb, but less gross.  I want this.  Ok?  You hear that inventors?  Make this happen for me.

P.S.  Before anyone says anything, it is nothing like a fucking water bed.  With water beds there's still gravity and blankets and sheets that get twisted when you roll over and pressure points and that nasty *sloshglosh* sound anytime you move.  Oh, and don't even get me started on sleeping in a water bed WITH someone.  Water beds?  Worst invention ever.  A "bed" inside water?  Genius.  When you go to test out the Water Chamber 3000 at Sleepys a few years from now, you just remember you have ME to thank.

Delusions of grandeur

I may or may not be about to reveal exactly how insane I am.

Does anyone else picture themselves in life or death situations and out of nowhere all of a sudden you're a super human body builder who defies the law of gravity AND has a snappy one liner to boot?  Today, I'm at work, driving my forklift around (WHY they let me operate a 5 ton vehicle inside a building I'll never know), thinking about how I might perform under extremely dangerous circumstances, when BAM I crash my forklift.  A 30 foot stack of pallets - OBLITERATED.  So as it's falling I'm like "OH SHIT!" and drive away as fast as I can to avoid certain doom but my wheel was turned all the way to the side, so I FLIP MY FORKLIFT.  As it's falling I looked back and saw a co-worker was in my path, so somehow I managed to reach out and basically throw him out of the way, get my arms back into the forklift standing area and contort my body so that none of my limbs would be crushed.  I climbed out really quick because I was convinced this thing was about to blow Michael Bay style (even though it's not even a gas powered machine), and assumed the fetal position for a second while all this shit was falling all around me.  Finally everything is leveled and the crashing sounds stop and I raise my head a little to hear a tiny newborn scream.  Why is there a newborn at Costco at 4am?  It doesn't matter why, but I need to find it in case something fell on it!  I SEE IT! It's pinned under a 500 pound pallet of Orange Crush soda, but still very much alive thanks to a lot of now-crushed boxes of juice... but they're about to give all the way.  SHIT!  So I squat down and Hulk out that ENTIRE PALLET OF SODA, throwing it 10 feet away at a wall.  I pick the baby up and it's unscathed, just very obviously shaken from all the crashing.  I cuddle it a minute and calm it down, then say "They orange going to crush you this time."  Aaaaand scene.

So obviously the real reason an unattended newborn is at Costco at 4am is because I'm delusional, and this was one of my more grandiose daydreams.  Oh, and I'm also aware that my one-liner wasn't very snappy at all, but I couldn't think of anything better.  In my mind though, it's similar to that feeling you get when Arnold's like "Hasta la vista, BABY" and you're like "OH SNAP!".  BUT ANYWAY, usually these little daydreams I have are a lot more realisitic, like Leela starts choking on something and I manage to Heimlich it out of her even though I wouldn't actually have the first clue of how to do that, or I fight off a rabid dog that has attacked me, or I might swerve to avoid a seagull and drive the van off the bridge but manage to unbuckle and swim Joe and the girls to safety before we drown, or the Earth suddenly opens beneath me and I catch myself by my fingertips and climb out even though I know for a fact that I could not even do a pull up if my life depended on it (because that's totally realistic).  But what I'm trying to get at in a very long-winded way is that I always wonder if I would be able to save myself and my family if we ever were in some real danger, or if I would just be useless.  You hear stories of mothers lifting cars off their children in an adrenaline rush - I wonder if an adrenaline rush could help me in any dire situation like I like to imagine. 

Sooo, am I crazy?  Probably.  Could I whip out some super hero powers and save myself in a life or death situation?  Probably not.  But am I going to start training for Ninja Warrior so that I have the strength, speed and agility, just in case?  Now that I think about it, HELL YES!

You never know when you'll have to scale the Warped Wall to save your child's life from a forest fire.

Things I Can't Believe I Never Knew

I haven't posted in a while.  The most interesting thing to happen to me the past week was losing my shoes and calling out of work as a result.  Actually that whole thing had me really pissed off because my boss said to me "Kate.  I literally have 70 pairs of shoes.  You have ONE?" and I was all "Yeah lady, I'm poor, that's how I roll, blow me," and then I barefoot roundhoused her ass through the phone because I'm a teleninja.  The other part of the whole thing that pissed me off is that literally two days before, I had a whole shit ton of shoes that I had been saving "just in case" and I had finally decided "just in case" wasn't coming.  So then it came.  So I'm officially never throwing anything away ever again.

Anyway, so somehow this next story is related but you wouldn't believe if you stopped after this paragraph.  I was just talking at Joe about how I hadn't blogged in a while because I couldn't think of anything to say, and he wasn't paying attention of course and he's like "The guys at work were making fun of me the other day because I didn't know turkeys could fly."  Wait.  What?  TURKEYS FLY?

Which brings me to this.  Things I feel really dumb for never having known before.  Some with video proof in case your dumbass didn't know either.

1.  Turkeys fly.  This just surprises me because those things are BIG.  I figured they could do the ol' jump-and-fly-10-feet, but no, they actually FLY.

2.  The average American woman owns 19 pairs of shoes.  This search was prompted by my asshole boss.  Not that I don't support a woman's right to own however the hell many shoes she wants, but I don't think I've owned 19 pairs of shoes in my whole life, muchless that many at once.  What do you do with that many shoes???

3.  You can make salisbury steak.  I'm not sure what I thought salisbury steak was, but I always figured it was some kind of pre-chewed naturally occuring thing.  Like scrapple and hot dogs.  Uh, yeah.  But apparently it's beef and pork and god knows what else combined.

4.  Casey Kasem is still alive.  Every single time I hear this guy on the radio I think "Holy crap, he's still alive?!"  I swear he died like 15 years ago.  Isn't he 110 now or something?


Honestly I can't even think of any of the really good examples of dumb stuff I didn't know, but I feel like almost every day I learn some sort of common knowledge and I'm like "wait, what?" and people look at me like I'm the stupidest person to ever breathe (like when I discovered white people are mutated black people).  It's probably true sometimes.  Oh, another thing is I didn't know human boobs make milk and that babies eat from them until I was like 15.  WTF?

I know how Satan fell from Heaven for real.

For the past year and a half-two years, I've been really fascinated by this God and Jesus stuff and how and why people do and don't believe in it.  My most recent obsessive thought has been about Heaven and the afterlife.

And I just had an epiphone because of a hairball on the bath tub ledge.

ALL Satan wanted was a little kitty cat!  But because it's my understanding that all you have to do is believe in ol Jeebus to get into Heaven, and because his precious little LucyFur (that would obviously be his cat's name) doesn't even have a soul and also can't believe in anything but cans of tuna, they had to part ways.  So he was like "Screw this God guy or whatever his name is, he won't notice if I sneak Lucy in" but God DID notice because he is allergic as shit to cats (HENCE why he started Earth so all the animal lovers could visit their pets for 80 years or so, but Satan didn't want to just visit dangit, he wanted an ETERNITY of kitty meows and purrs and kneading dough on his back [oh that does sound nice]), and so God was like "GTFO SATAN" and so began the story of the Bible.

So at least between lightening beam back whips in Hell I'll have a soft little Molly (my childhood furball) to rub my skinless hands over.  So that's cool.

Hi, I'm Sarah Mclachlan.  Will you save an innocent puppy from those animal hatin angels?

I just got a great idea for a porn. This is not at all awkward to read.

"Bonerfide Hero: Captain Dick Dodders".  One scene would be these doddering old dudes barely holding themselves up on their walkers, and they're centimetering their way to the register at a donut shop.  There's this long huge line behind them of impatient assholes who don't respect the feeble [slow as fuck] elderly, but they're not about to get arrested for assault of a senior either, so they just stand there huffing and eye-rolling and wishing they had just gone in front of those walkers when there was more space to do so without it being OBVIOUS they were cutting in line. 

So anyway, there's this one guy in the very back, a young guy.  It's a porn don't forget, and he's the villain, so he's wearing some painted on latex villain suit, with his junk hanging out of course, and he has a utility belt full of dildos and whips.  And his name is The Whipper Snapper (get it, because he's the young guy?).  Also, he can manipulate his penis to whip and snap, because it wouldn't make sense if he couldn't do that.

The Whipper Snapper is PISSED because he wants his damn coffee and donut before he begins his day doin bad guy stuff, so he starts pushing through the line.  He knocks down this lady and he BREAKS HER STRIPPER HEEL.  Well, this is the equivalent of breaking her skull, it is NOT cool to break a stripper's heel in whatever fantasy land this story is taking place.  Let's call it Busty Years Retirement Community I guess.  So she's laying there all in distress and calling for help while The Whipper Snapper is all "Mua-ha-ha, how'd you like that hurts donut?" (thank jeebus jokes in pornos don't have to make complete sense) and keeps on storming toward the front of the line and knocking over more people.

Then.  Remember the rickety old doddering dudes who are holding up the line in the first place?  They finally turn around to see all the commotion (because you know they didn't HEAR it) and they're all WTF.  The stomp their walkers on the ground in a synchronized rhythm and it's like a scene out of Power Rangers all of a sudden, and they like form into one giant penis with walker legs and they kick the shit out of The Whipper Snapper.

Then they go pick up the damsel in distress and she's like "Oh, let me make you my bonerfied heroes!" and that's when the actually explicit stuff starts.  But who would still be interested in wacking it to a porno after a killer scene like the one I just described?!  Not me.  The end.

Oh, and a minor detail, but I'm pretty sure that 30 years old in adult movies is the equivalent of 80 in real life, so there wouldn't ACTUALLY be old wrinkly balls in this porn, so don't worry about that.  Hmm, unless I decide to take it in the fetish direction.  Decisions decisions.



I want to apologize for not doing more.  I could have done magic with the fight scene, but I'm too tired.  And turned on.

I want to write a children's book.

It will be about hygiene issues and the main character will be named Bernie Hole, and his friend Mitch N. Mianus will be curiously cropped from the waist up in all his pages and only ever show one hand.

Seriously though, I want to write a children's book specifically so that I can illustrate it.  Actually, would someone else mind just writing one for me?  And giving me all the credit?  I have no problem doing that, I am white afterall. 

A dude at work told me that since he only ever sees me on a forklift, he imagines I just drive it around everywhere and go about my daily life with this forklift connected to me.  Like I'm cooking breakfast and flipping pancakes with my forks, and wiping my butt with toilet paper on the end of my forks, and I beep as I'm backing down the front yard to put out the trash.  And I plug in my battery at night then me and the forklift cuddle up to Joe in bed.  Ha.  We decided it would be a fun kid's book, about Forklift Fiona.  Maybe it would, but I don't necessarily want to write or illustrate that book.  I think girls doing "boy stuff" would be a good focus though, because people eat that GIRL POWER shit right up.  Honestly, I don't care what it's about, I just need an excuse to use these markers I paid $200 for (I am not even fucking kidding.  This was in my child-free days of course though).

Oh, are shit, asshole and douchenozzle children's-book-appropriate words?  Someone should definitely write this for me, I don't think I'm cut out for this business.


PS  It's funny when the summary on the back of a kid's book is longer than the book itself.

PPS Ok nevermind, I'm gonna write this damn book myself.  I just need someone to give me a subject because that's the part I suck at.  GO!

Teenage mutant ninja honkies

So tonight, me and Joe and Violet are hanging out in our bed and Violet starts talking about this "him" and pointing to a corner in our room.  First she was telling him to dance with her, then she was just saying "him over there, him right there".  Then she told me he was under the bed and I moved from the edge so fast I about exploded my pants off.

So then I'm telling my friend about this creeper hanging out in my bedroom that only Violet can see but doesn't seem to be scared of, and she's all "Jesus in da house! Maybe Jesus is her homeboy too!" haha.  Honestly that doesn't make it any less creepy for me that Jesus is standing there watching me in the room I make babies in, but at least I don't have to worry about him grabbing me by my ankles and swinging me into the plaster walls repeatedly, which is how I always imagine a demon hiding under my bed would finish me off.  Anyway, I was like "What if it IS Jesus and he wakes me up and bitch slaps me in the middle of the night and is like 'I AM real!  The power of Christ compels you, BITCH!'?" because Jesus is black and bad ass in my mind, like Shaft, with a little bit of Wayne Brady.  Then my friend's husband agreed that Jesus was definitely bad ass and definitely not white, because white people are totally lame (he didn't say white people are lame, I did, sorry whiteys).  I bet Jesus actually turned that water into 40s of OE.  And hello, fish fry?

Anyway, so that got me to thinking, with the continents starting out as one big super continent (what was it called? Onomatopoeia?  Palladia?), I bet people lived all close to the equator, and didn't have any clothes or anything unless you wanna count the bag dresses fashioned out of some giant exotic leaf, so they were probably all black, or at least dark skinned right?  I'm sure I can google this to find out, but I'm too lazy, so I'm just gonna go with this theory right now that white people are a glitch in evolution or something.  How did we end up taking over?  Were the roles reversed back in the cave man days - like were black people afraid of white people?  If a white person dropped their wallet on the street did they kick it home to avoid police harassment?  Is rhythm stored in melanin and was living in the mountains really worth giving that up?

Well I went ahead and googled it and apparently it is pretty common knowledge that white folks just showed up like less than 20,000 years ago.  I had never really thought of it before though.  It's kind of crazy to look at my skin and see that I'm mayonnaise white (and thick and jiggly like it too) and then think that my ancestors are Africa black.  Although I guess it's not THAT crazy a thought if you were judging just by my ass.  I wonder if, with the o-zone depleting, if we'll eventually all go back to black?  Then never go back?

Stupid things I believed when I was a kid

Time to explain The Light Fish and The Pooping Babies!  And other dumb things that I was gullible enough or overimaginative enough to believe in when I was a kid.

1.  My last name was pronounced "Muddle-tin".  I used to be Kate Middleton (yes Wills and I are very happy together and the honeymoon was fantastic... I'm still hearing that hilarious joke from people almost 3 months after the date... and I still laugh and go along with it because I don't like to be mean, even though in my mind I'm strangling that person).  Well, in first grade I learned two things.  A) I learned that my name was not actually Katie, but KATHRYN, and it took me like all of first grade to grasp this concept and then learn how to spell my new name.  Seriously, it was just SO HARD for me (that's what she said), and I remember sitting there writing my name and having to say it out loud to make sure I got it right.  Then I felt like I had put such a huge effort into learning this new name that I started going by Kathryn instead of Katie... and when my teachers would talk about me to my mom she was like "Why the hell do I care about this Kathryn kid?" the first few times.  I dunno, apparently my mom had forgotten my real name too or something.  I don't know if I was a retarded kid or what, but this seems so crazy to me now.  How do you go like 6 years not knowing your name?  Anyway.  B) My last name is apparently pronounced Muddle-tin.  I swear to god my grandmother told me this on one of my weekend visits there.  I was insistant that she was WRONG, but no, she KEPT telling me, "It's Muddletin.  Ask your mother, your name is Kathryn Muddletin."  Now that I have my own youngin and can appreciate the humor of lying to children, this is totally hilarious to me.  But seriously Mommom, I went weeks or MONTHS believing this.  I remember telling all my friends, and asking my teacher if my last name was still spelled the same way.  This seriously blew my little first grade mind.   Mommom -1, Dumbass K-a-t-h-r-y-n Muddletin - 0

2.  I was adopted.  I think my brother and sister may have jokingly told me this a few times too many and I must have really internalized it, because I remember waking up one day and, without any recent prompting, thinking "I'm adopted.  And I'm going to go find my real family."  I packed up my Rainbow Bright shirt and some jean shorts into a bag, and got my Little Foot plush animal and headed for my battery operated corvette, and told my mom all about how I realized her and my dad had adopted me as a baby (and apparently forgotten my name) and that's why I didn't fit in with the rest of the family because I didn't like onions.  Yeah, a distaste for onions was my straw-breaker I guess.  So anyway, my mom told me she would help me go find my real family later if I ate dinner first or something... I forgot about it, but she never did deny or confirm my adoptive status.  I like onions now though, so we must be related.

3. There were fish floating around my room.  They were going to attack me.  Apparently this fantasy of mine was happening while I was still in a crib and in diapers!  Although I don't remember that far back, but I BELIEVE IT.  Because those fish were out to GET ME.  I remember laying in bed terrified (bonus Stupid Thing I Believed: if you lay completely still under your covers, nothing can get you.  NOTHING) because there were these giant 3 foot fish floating around IN my walls.  But they were made of beams of bright orange light, and I could see them THROUGH my walls.  And they were going to KILL me.  OMG!  I'm kinda freaking myself out about this again.  Anyhow, I remember "seeing" them one more time when I was in like middle school, and I think I figured out that it was those little out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye floatybob things that you see at night if you stare at a light - like a lamp or a tv or the hallway light coming under your door - too long, then look into the darkness of the room.  But my crazy person mind turned those floaters into killer fish.  I remember revealing this to my mother manymany years later, at which time she told me that I used to SCREAM in my crib and sometimes throw myself out of it, and I'd scream about fish when she went to me.  Violet and Leela are doomed I tell you.

4. I could teach babies how to poop.  Honestly, I don't even know how to explain this.  It's just so out there, even for me.  When I was a kid, I used to sit on the toilet until my legs went numb, talking to and teaching these invisible babies how to poop.  Why?  I have no. fucking. clue.  I wish I could remember their names, but I know there were lots of them, and they were fully formed babies, I'd say maybe 2-3 years old but fatter and in big cloth diapers, but TINY, like 6 inches tall.  And while I pooped, they sat on the bathroom floor in front of me on their teeny tiny 4 inch toilets, just taking lessons of how to poop.  I disciplined them.  I praised them.  I bribed them with trips outside of the bathroom if they were really good (none of them ever were THANK GOD because I would have been totally embarassed if I had to introduce them to anyone else).  I taught them other things too, like how to swim (picture me as a kid, sitting on the crapper, waving my arms and occasionally pausing to look down and point to the floor and give it instructions to stop holding its nose), and how to use a fork and knife to cut your own food.  Yup.  And as I'm revisiting this, now it's all so clear as to why Violet is scared to death to sit on the potty.  The Pooping Babies must have crawled up and hid inside my womb for all these years and they came out along with Violet and are now haunting her!  DOOMED.

5.  The Acid Monster was real.  I went a whole summer without stepping foot NEAR a pool because I was convinced there was this invisible acid monster that was going to make me disintegrate inside the pool and no one would ever know.  That vacation that year kinda sucked.

6. Jesus is real.  Haha!  Just kidding.  I don't think I ever really believed in Jesus.  (Seriously though, I like my god-fearing friends and family, and I don't think you guys are stupid at all.  But I do get a kick out of a Jeebus joke here and there.)

7. I write the songs that make the whole world sing.  I'm still convinced of this one actually.  You know that "I'm proud to be an A-mur-ican/Where at least I know I'm free" song?  I shit you not, I WROTE THAT.  The music and the lyrics.  ALL ME.  I remember playing it on my little keyboard and singing it to my Doodlebears and asking what they thought.  And then like 15 years later 9/11 happened and they started playing that redneck ass song all over the stupid radio and I was like WTF THEY STOLE MY SONG.  There was some other song I wrote, but of course I can't remember now because the government figured out a way back into my brain to re-erase my memory of it.  I also was responsible for the re-emergence of a few fads.  And Disney owes me big time for Hannah Montana.  Damnit.

8.  My stuffed animals have souls.  I'm pretty sure every kid believed this though.  But I was totally neurotic about giving all my toys and stuffed things equal face time, and I put them ALL in bed with me so that no one would feel left out.  And I still felt sad that some of them felt sad about having to sleep closer to my feet than my head :(

There's some other things, I'm sure.  Actually I think I might add to this list as I remember things so that I always have fresh material for screwing Violet and Leela up.

Bouffant Buffet

Buffet restaurants are disgusting.  I've caught the shittles from one particular buffet TWICE and yet I still subject myself to these places.

Tonight Joe and I went to Golden Corral... meh.  It was 530 pm and I had gotten up for the day at 3am and had only eaten two trail mix bars all day and I was so hungry I could eat my own face so I was not about to stand there and cook a meal.  WHY I would agree to (and even insist on after the idea was in my head!) a buffet I still don't know.  I mean, even McDonald's is higher up on the food chain. 

So we're eating, and I look over at Joe fingering something in his food, and he pulls out this 8 inch blondish hair.  Well I had picked that salad up for him, and I do have blondish areas in my hair, and I do lose hair all the time...

Then 10 minutes later we're still eating, and I feel something funny tickling my lips from inside my mouth.  I stopped chewing my mystery meat fried rice for a second to feel whatever was on my lip, then I felt something and gave a little tug, then I felt the (horrifyingly familiar) feeling of a hair sliding out from my throat.  It had pieces of chewed up food all connected to it.  It was lovely.  This one was very long and very dark and would not pass for coming from my head.  For a second after I pulled it out I kept chewing that mouthful of food as if nothing had happened, because I'm gross like that, haha.

Soooooo all night I've been trying to figure out why even after those hairs, and after watching a little boy take a spoon out of the gummy bear bowl to get it out of his way so he could see which color gummy bears he wanted to pull out with his bare hand instead, why do I still love me some all-you-can-eat buffets?  Denial!  I refuse to believe that that sneeze guard doesn't do its job, and that people wash their hands often, and that they sneeze into their elbows or shoulders and not their hands, and that parents don't let their grimy little kidlets go to the buffet by theirdamnselves.  Because how can you possibly argue a spoonful of 30 different entrees, sides and desserts?!  I can't!

RoachPaul

So Violet is terrified of bugs.  She went through this phase for a month or two where she was scared of the damn FLOOR of our house and sometimes out in public.  We were walking around Old Navy this one time and she starts screaming MOMMY! MOMMY!  LAY-EE BUG! because there was a tag on the floor or something and clothing tags totally look like bugs...  Anyway, so she basically has a seizure if a fly lands on the chair she's sitting on, and would probably die instantly if a bug actually came into contact with her.  Where does she get this from?

I mentioned in my first post that I don't get why people aren't more afraid of bugs.  I mean, bugs themselves aren't scary.  I once held a tarantula in my bare hand, and one of those giant palm-sized cockroaches (sick), and I wasn't really that freaked out.  What I'm more concerned about are those bugs that live in my house and move really fucking fast and disappear easily.  HOW am I supposed to know that bug didn't disappear into my pants if I can't see it anymore?  And what if it crawls into my crotch and lays eggs and I give birth to a bunch of little centipedes one day?  Or what if those weird dime-sized mutant ants at that cabin one time that were hanging out in the bathroom had crawled up in my butt while I was on the pot?!  OMFG.  THIS is why I can't handle the sight of bugs.  Because they fit in small holes and crevices and I happen to have lots of holes and crevices on my body.

Anyway, so back to Violet being scared of bugs.  I made the mistake of freaking out about a bug in front of her ONE time, and not even that big of a freak out, I think I just scooped her up real quick and was like "ohmuhgod bug ew" and ran to the other room.  A few months later she went through the "bugs = suicide" phase and I have been soooooo careful to never show her my bug fear, and I'm pretty positive I've been successful!  So again, where does she get this bug fear from?

Me still.  But not because I scream ANT in front of her.  The poor child inherited my overactive imagination, and this is how I know.  I'm at the sink today washing some dishes, and Violet starts screaming.  EEEEEE!  FWY!  A FWY!  EEEEEE AHHHHHHHHH!  I calmly tell her, without turning around, "it didn't even touch you Violet, it's ok, flies won't hurt you, you're ok," etc.  But then I start thinking.  What if it DID touch her and what if she's NOT ok?  No, that's crazy talk, flies can't hurt people!  But what if it's a GIANT fly?  Like a horsefly bit her?  Or what if... all of a sudden I couldn't breathe or move or anything, because I was so friggin scared there was a man bug behind me.  Like in that movie The Fly, remember how creepy that was?!  But this wasn't an ordinary Fly Man.  For some reason I actually thought to myself "What if I turn around and there's a damn RuPaul-sized bug standing up on its back two legs about to slit my throat?!?!"... yeah, like there's this giant roach walking around in a push up, with its penis tucked between its legs, tossin around heel daggers or something.  I have no idea why the combination of RuPaul and a bug scares me so much, but it took me a minute before I could finally force my head around, and I still winced at my big black scary refrigerator.

I wonder how Violet pictures bugs.  I think Swiper is the only "villain" she knows of, so maybe she sees bugs with bushy tails and eye masks trying to steal her "damn" crackers as she calls them.  Or, she's scared of chairs too... I can kinda see how she could confuse a bug for a tiny walking chair.  Hm.  Anyway, hopefully she's not haunted by The Light Fish and The Pooping Babies (I'll explain - another blog post, another day) for her entire childhood the way I was.