I Meant to do That

Have you ever waved back at someone who wasn't waving at you?  And then you responded by laying your forearm across your head to scratch your ear because you meant to do that?  Flop sweat stays with me for a solid 30 minutes when I pull that stunt.

Today was no different.  I got on the elevator with two men.  OK, I got on after a clever remark and then, because they were together, couldn't figure out if I should get on or off first, but I digress.  The taller one hit the buttons.  1 and LL.  They weren't sure at first.  What did I do?

Well, first I suppressed inappropriate laughter in the elevator because I kept hearing, "going down Mr. Tyler?" in my head.  I chose not to say that to two men with whom I was not well-acquainted and was also confined in a moving box.

I got off at LL.  I turned left.  They followed me.  Dammit!   Not my floor.  So I proceeded to walk out the door onto the roof of the parking garage.   Who puts a roof on the first floor?

What would you have done?  Turned around upon realizing your error and get back on the elevator?  No!  It was the Not You Wave on a much larger scale.  Two strangers could see me.  Plus all the hidden cameras I assume were watching.  I didn't see any.  That's why I said hidden.

There I am, on the roof, and immediately I pull out my phone. I meant to do that. Clearly I can't walk to my car, because it's under the roof.  My car knows I avoid direct sunlight at all costs.  I hear the men walk toward their cars as I pretend to check emails.  OK, I was actually checking actual emails.  But it gets better, because I totally commit to this roof charade.  I walk around the roof in the hopes that there was a way down without having to go back into the building.  Of course, no way out.

That's when I start with the impromptu photo session of the graffiti across the street and the tree pictures.  Satisfied, (faking satisfied, oh, I didn't fake it, I'm an actor remember?) I strode back into the building and got back on the elevator.  After I tried to leave via the stairs which only led to a different part of the first floor.  Stupid stupid stupid building design.

One LL later and I'm walking toward my own car.  I meant to do that.


Things That Go Bump in the Night

Recently, +Jim Herrin wrote of things which scared him as a child. This was egged on by our 6 and 7 year old girls watching movies that were, questionable. He said that our oldest is more like him in that images bother her while the youngest is more like me and is far more creeped out by the real world.

What movies scared me as a child? Yes, the Wicked Witch of the West was bothersome, but the monkeys were far more creepy. Whenever someone says the phrase "when monkeys fly out of my butt" I picture those monkeys. The creepy child stealer in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was and is beyond disturbing. As was the clown lamp in the bedroom I shared with my sister. I know full well that clown lamped instigated devilry whilst I slept. Fortunately, sheets can protect you from most bedroom furnishings.

A friend told me the story of how his dad took him and his brother to see JAWS. I believe he was around 5 at the time. He's still not a fan of going into the ocean. Sure, it's funny now. But I would imagine that was more than disturbing seen through the eyes of a child. Oh, yeah, I watched it with Jenna when she was around 5, but there was fast-forwarding and then I thought, you know, funny and fake as it looks to me when Quint gets eaten, I don't know if letting her watch it would be an act of good parenting. So I turned it off. JAWS, to the adult mind, most likely haunts you because of what is not seen. Being caught by surprise, unless cake is involved, is never good.I

I remember there was talk that my nephew had seen Jurassic Park at too young an age. He has not developed a fear of dinosaurs or theme parks to my knowledge. But everyone is just wired differently.

It's true, I won't park anywhere near a panel van. I will also not drive behind trucks carrying logs. Deliverance stayed with me more than Poltergeist did. Because of it I have an irrational fear of banjoess--and pretty mouths, on a city boy. I was raised in the suburbs of Washington, DC. There was a point when I realized that if a bomb was launched at our country, and it was aimed at DC, ducking and covering would be to no avail. Instead I remember a McDonald's shooting in the mid '80's. Sitting in the back row was always within my comfort zone.

Sometime between only sitting in the back row at church (family of six, easier to control the children) and this incidenct, I developed a distinct need to always sit in the back and/or in the position where I could see who was coming in, and could make an exit strategy. Every classroom, every restaurant, all the time, that's what I'm thinking. Perhaps I just took it for granted that my world was a target so I always expect the worst case scenario. I really do have a blanket, a candle, and every type of emergency situation stuff in my car, and I always have. I walk to the car with my keys in my hand and one key pointing out. Always. If I see one more victim in a movie drop their keys or, heaven forbid, just begin to look for them in a dark alley, well, quite frankly, she's an idiot.

Movies that are a bit more real, I won't watch. Saving Private Ryan is, from the bits I've seen, is a superb movie. But it's too real. My dad was in that war. Lot's of people had dads in that war. I don't want to watch it. It's too well made. I prefer the beheading of Orcs to a really real movie. Sci/fi fantasy is my world. Shower me with musicals (Glitter aside)and I'll be happy.

My boyfriend in college cajoled me into watching Nightare on Elm Street. I remembered putting up quite the resistance. However, I acquiesed and watch it I did. You know, Nightmare on Elm Street really isn't a movie for someone who has night terrors already. It took about ten years for that crawling on the ceiling business to fade away from my mind. If only Freddy Kreuger had used jazz hands then I wouldn't even be telling you this now.

They say that public speaking is what most people fear. Pffftttt. That scares me not. Flop sweat when you're dying out there, even that's not scary. Me, failing, is actually pretty funny stuff. That's why I do it so often. I used to think not having a job would scare me. Four years after being laid off, I'm not scared, I'm not pining for the fjords, and I'm not looking back. You see the only thing I am truly scared of is a life of regrets. It may sound trite, but it's true. I live my life as an adventure. But without all the skydiving because, seriously man, you're just baiting fate with that.