I am scared of mirrors. I know, it's totally not logical, but I think it started when I was in 3rd grade and we watched the movie "Watcher in the Woods" at a slumber party. The girl in the movie's name was Karen, and everyone made a big deal about it, and anyway - it was YEARS before I stopped expecting mirrors to randomly break and have a blindfolded girl in the shards. I also hated the "bloody Mary" game that girls would play in the bathroom. I was convinced that when I turned around, I'd see something scary in the mirror. And now as an adult, I am scared of mirrors that sneak up on me when I'm not expecting to see my reflection. I can convince myself alot of the time that I look ok, but then the dang mirrors show me the reality of things... I hate mirrors.
I am terrified of the dentist. I don't really know why that is, but I think it has something to do with when my dad's Uncle Fred was our dentist. I'm pretty sure his drill was foot powered. I've tried really hard not to pass my phobia on to my kids, but my Meg has inherited the scared-of-the-dentist gene. She gets to have 3 teeth pulled today. 2 of her permanent teeth are coming in THROUGH HER GUMS! Gross, huh? Her darling daddy has to stay at work so lucky me gets to go with her to help her through the trauma. She's so freaked out that she made John give her a blessing this morning. Poor thing.
Most of the time I feel totally lame. Like when I was in school, I'd never go dancing (except country dancing - but that doesn't really count) at a cool club because I was completely convinced that someone would take me by the arm, and escort me out saying, "Nice try, but I don't think so..." That's why I won't go into certain clothing stores. I'm sure they would ask me politely to leave because even if I could FIT into the clothes, I'm not the sort of person who could carry them off... Anyone know what I mean? I can fake like I'm cool in small bursts, but deep down I'm really lame.
So anyway - those are a few things you might not have known about me. Hopefully you don't think less of me... :)
I am terrified of the dentist. I don't really know why that is, but I think it has something to do with when my dad's Uncle Fred was our dentist. I'm pretty sure his drill was foot powered. I've tried really hard not to pass my phobia on to my kids, but my Meg has inherited the scared-of-the-dentist gene. She gets to have 3 teeth pulled today. 2 of her permanent teeth are coming in THROUGH HER GUMS! Gross, huh? Her darling daddy has to stay at work so lucky me gets to go with her to help her through the trauma. She's so freaked out that she made John give her a blessing this morning. Poor thing.
Most of the time I feel totally lame. Like when I was in school, I'd never go dancing (except country dancing - but that doesn't really count) at a cool club because I was completely convinced that someone would take me by the arm, and escort me out saying, "Nice try, but I don't think so..." That's why I won't go into certain clothing stores. I'm sure they would ask me politely to leave because even if I could FIT into the clothes, I'm not the sort of person who could carry them off... Anyone know what I mean? I can fake like I'm cool in small bursts, but deep down I'm really lame.
So anyway - those are a few things you might not have known about me. Hopefully you don't think less of me... :)
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BTW, I am still afraid of bloddy Mary, LOL!