Friday, July 9, 2010

Five for Friday

Five things that make me UNcomfortable....

1. Phantom hairs that fall out and stick to your clothes and tickle the backs of your arms but no matter how hard you look you just can't seem to find them! This occurs almost every 10 seconds for me as I seem to be shedding at an alarming rate lately. I am told it is normal after you have a baby... but no less discerning.

2. My garage which is hot and steamy like a sauna and full of spiders. It is like a basement, which was one of my greatest fears in childhood. When I have to get in or out of the car I try to spend as little time humanly possible in there and I always check for spiders when I'm outta there. This should be no surprise though as all bugs make me uncomfortable even lady bugs.

3. Walking through the ghetto with my baby... and NOT because I am afraid of being snatched or something happening to Fiona. But for some reason (which I would love to have explained to me) Baby's Mamas are a hot item in the Ghetto. I get honked at and flirted with more pushing a stroller than I would at any other time. Is it the mom butt?

4. Having cool clean feet immersed in the water of the lake and then having to cross the beach which is hot and dirty (as it is made of dirt). Consequently sand granules get stuck all over the previously cool clean feet and so the struggle begins to try to get the sand off before sticking the now hot dirty foot back into a shoe/flip flop.

5. Having to use the toilet in a dirty Mexican rest stop. This only happened once (Julia, if you read this you may recall), but one time was enough for me to know that I never want it to happen again. SO I had to use the bathroom something fierce and I was in a car on an old Mexican road with a lot of bumps... we stopped at the tiniest little shanty in the middle of nowhere and I was told this would be the last chance to go for a few hours. I entered the bathroom, which had no door and was really just a hole in the ground of a big dark area with the dirtiest and most ridiculous imitation of a toilet seat I have ever seen. And of course there were bugs all over the place. I had my sister in law stand guard at the entrance and I attempted the squat method to avoid touching anything within sight. However a combination of stage fright (because I could hear a heard of banditos outside), fear of strange Mexican bugs crawling on me, and images of me falling in this hole and/or touching anything, were inhibiting my ability to relax and go. In addition there was a van full of people waiting for me... and I hate taking too long in bathroom situations, in reality NO ONE cares, but somewhere locked in my subconscious is that old middle-school fear that people are going to tease me about it. (you can probably tell that this happened to me often in my childhood... if you met my brother and sister you would understand, I will just add that to the reasons I need therapy!) ANYWAYS, under that kind of pressure and in a squatting position for over 5 minutes I lost all strength in my legs and began to shake trying to hold that position and relax at the same time. I zipped up and thought I would just hold it for a few more hours. My sister in law encouraged me otherwise.. and after a good laugh and having her give me water imagery out loud like "there is a waterfall pouring over the mountain" I finally had success.
In actuality this UNcomfortableness extends to all questionable restroom facilities and most port-o-potties. Just ask my dad about my bathroom denial of last weekend. I really could write an entire post about my public bathroom phobias and concerns.

I have issues.

Have a great weekend!

6 comments:

Unknown said...

What kind of ghettos are you walking through? Where are they? Where are you going?

Sara said...

Oh Tacy! I hear you about the toilets in Mexico! I had to pay money just to get 3 little squares of toilet paper at most places...and there wasn't even a toilet seat. Makes you real grateful! :)

Tacy Marie said...

Reuben... and everyone I suppose. My use and definition of the term Ghetto would probably not fit most. I used to call the suburb I grew up in a ghetto (to which my dad would often get upset and remind me that there were far worse places to live). I am not talking about neighborhoods where people are getting shot left and right.

Mommadriver said...

Tacy, let me shed a little light (perhaps) on your phobia of outdoor primitive, or dirty bathroom facilities...when you were a kid, your Dad and I liked to watch "The X-Files" One episode was about some mutant human-slug creature that would travel from outhouse to outhouse through the large hose on those trucks that clean-out cess-pools, etc..and there was a creepy scene where the camera looked into the hole in the outhouse, and there were the dark eyes of the creature looking up. You happened to catch that episode, and it freaked you out. You announced that you "would NEVER go to the bathroom in an outhouse EVER again!" Sorry if we contributed to your psychosis...it wasn't intentional. Just DEAL WITH IT!!! (lol)

tacymarie said...

enjoyed your blog... I'm the same with #1,2,and 4. Number 5, I would never attempt, no matter how bad I had to. Public bathrooms are out of the question for me. Great Post!!!

jeff and alli said...

Ah gross bathrooms, I too struggle there....

Maybe next time I want to feel hot I'll take the kids for a stroll in the ghetto. ;)