Tag Archives: Fears

Biggest Fear

I’m taking a little break from living alone – not because I’m scared shitless of ghosts and rapists attacking me in the night, but because I really needed to do laundry. In case you’re wondering, I do have a washer and dryer but the last time I used the dryer it kind of exploded or something and then my fire alarm went off and that shit is LOUD so I decided never to use it again. So yeah, I got home to my parents’ at about midnight or 1 this morning (after seeing Inception! *SPOILER ALERT*: do you think the ending was a dream?). My parents are away and my brother was sleeping. I tip-toed into the washroom to complete my nightly routine of pissing and then tooth brushing. After flushing, I approached the sink. That’s when it happened. I noticed something so grotesque my eyes popped out of their sockets a little bit. There, right in the middle of the sink, was a HUGE effing moth. I’ve never seen one this big. It was the mother of all moths. It may have been the mothman from the Mothman Prophecies. I ran out of the bathroom, slammed the door and haven’t been back in there since.

Moths are approximately one million times scarier than ghosts and rapists. They are my biggest fear. I can’t explain why. I kill spiders by squishing them with my index finger. Sometimes I even let them live because they don’t bother me. But moths. I can’t even. They are repulsive. And did you ever kill one? It’s like they’re made of dust. If you accidentally kill one on your jeans, their dusty asses will stain your denim. I find this more disgusting than cannibalism. While we’re on the subject, I’m equally scared of butterflies. Horrible creatures.

So now I’m screwed. My house has three bathrooms but I only ever use the one the moth is currently in. I can’t poop (and I really have to), brush my teeth or shower. I’m going to have to change my entire life because of this. I want to check if the moth has died yet but I can’t bring myself to open the door. What if it flies out? What if after it flies out, it goes into my room, hides in my sheets and touches my body at night? That would really freak me out! Their wings have a super weird consistency! They’re like velvet, and I coincidentally can’t stand velvet. Touching it sends shivers down my spine. When I was 14 and going through my short-lived goth phase, I’d shop at Cruella and have no choice but to avoid 3/4 of the merchandise.

So WTF do I do about this thing? Also, what are you scared of? I’m pretty terrified of mimes and bridges but my mottephobia really takes the cake. I wanted to post a picture of a big gross moth to go along with this post but my eyes automatically squinted and closed as soon as I typed the search words in.

-Melissa

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I Live Alone

I bought a condo last year. I’ve been set on moving out since I was 19 so I was really stoked. I wanted to rent an apartment but my parents were all, “Italian people don’t rent.” They don’t? That can’t possibly be right. Anyway, I bought my place before it was built; that way, I got it for cheap (I don’t think I could get a closet in NYC for the price I paid), I got to customize how I wanted it to look and I had time to save extra cash. I actually saved over $20,000, which is pretty epic for me. Speaking of epic things, I used words like “mortgage”, “down payment” and “backsplash” for the first time. Those are adult words! But it’s cool; that’s just stuff you say when you’re a grown up.

I officially moved in a week ago.  After all these years of anticipation, I finally did it. And so far, it’s been fun. I mean, it’s not exhilarating – I don’t have cable or internet yet – but it’s fun. I ride Bixi bikes. I hang out in my underwear every day. I sit around. I drink a lot of beer. I eat the outer chocolaty layer of my Swiss Rolls, then open up the cake part, then lick off the cream, then eat the cake. I fart a lot. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m living the dream…

But there’s a problem. I can only live the dream during the day. I’m scared shitless at night. I was fine for the first couple of nights, but then someone knocked on my bedroom window at 4 o’clock in the morning. Who does that? I’m on the bottom floor (which is a nice way of saying I’m in the fucking basement) so I feel like this has the potential to happen often. Now when I go to sleep, I subconsciously force myself to wake up every hour to make sure I’m alive. There is a knife and an extremely bright flashlight in my night table; I don’t think I could ever stab someone but I could definitely try to blind them. I’m thinking of getting a gun. Again, I probably won’t ever use it (except at the shooting range because I’m kind of a bad ass) but I think it’ll be good to have. And I could call it my ‘piece’, you know.

I hate that I’m so paranoid. Since I’ve moved, I’ve seen a shirtless man smoking crack, three shirtless men with mental health problems, and 15 to 20 shirtless men drinking 40s. Does no one work or wear shirts in this neighborhood? I also found a syringe on the ground and saw a cyclist get hit by a car. Oh, and I read that a crazy guy randomly stabbed three people, including a 74 year old man, at a cafe a short walk from my place. Oddly, none of this scared me. It’s really the knocking on my window that freaked me out. You have no idea how terrified I was. I was covered in sweat (even moreso than usual). I somehow brought myself to look outside but it was too dark to see anything. My friend Vince tried to calm me down by saying it was a ghost but that made it worse.

How can I stop worrying at night? Will I be a scaredy cat forever?

-Melissa

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Long Nails Are Gross

longI’m scared of nails. Not the kind you bang on with a hammer, I mean fingernails and toenails. Why? Because they are disgusting. I can handle the sight of fresh poop, skin deformations, barf produced by lactose intolerance (that’s the worst kind) and bloody wounds, but I can’t bring myself to accept long, dirty nails.

My fear may have started when I was 16. I was a cashier at a video store. A grimy-looking, foul-smelling man would often come in to rent porn. He had a very long coke nail. He appeared to take pride in its length, scratching himself with exaggerated motions as to show it off. One day, as I was handing him his change, he accidentally (or so he claims) cut my hand with his nail. I bled a little and freaked out, assuming he’d given me a horrible disease.

Nowadays, when meeting anyone, my attention is immediately drawn to his or her fingertips. If they are wearing sandals (ew), then I must stare at their toes. I know I shouldn’t look because I find it so unbearable, but I can’t stop myself. It’s like driving by a car accident or flipping through channels and ending up on a show about open-heart surgeries.

fingernailsMy fear hinders much romantic activity. I’ll never so much as consider a man who has longer than usual fingernails. As soon as those hideous, soiled and sometimes pointy things enter my field of vision, I think of them fingering me and oh God, I can’t even talk about it anymore. Thankfully I now have a gentleman friend who trims his nails regularly, but finding him was a difficult process.

The weird part is I’m not a total germophobe or a clean freak or anything like that. I could live in filth and deal with it. I once shared a 40 with a bum (in retrospect, I regret that). Now, I’m not saying everyone on the planet needs to get manicures (though it wouldn’t hurt – don’t get acrylic nails though, they’re gross too), but if you wouldn’t let your body get all nasty and dirty, why would you let your nails? CUT THEM, for my sake, I beg of you.

-Melissa

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Public Bathroom Blues

We love getting emails. And compliments. Emails that include compliments are twice as good. Reader Leslie Nikole recently wrote to us in hopes of finding out why women can’t use  public bathrooms without making a gross mess.

First of all, I love your blog. It gives me something to do beside count the number of mutated spiders that climb around in my classroom’s corners. It also makes me happy that you’re Montrealers, it’s like we have some kind of common ground.

germsAnyways, since you’re older and in university, I wanted to know if the disgusting shit I see in my high school bathroom (I’m in Sec 4/Grade Ten, thank God I’ll be outta there soon), used pads and tampons and their wrappers thrown all around the floor will also be a common hazard when I go to college/university? And what should I do about it in the meantime because the janitors (ha!) don’t clean for shit? Am I gonna be stuck holding my pee or what?

-leslie`nikole.
(
http://yngblkqwncnfsd.wordpress.com/ , just in case you’re interested.)

A youngin! I feel like an old fart now but I will advise you nonetheless. I know you’re hoping that my answer will be positive and reassuring, but unfortunately, it’s not. Women of all ages are disgusting. Especially when it comes to toilets.

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Swarming & Buzzing

THERE IS A WASP PROBLEM DOWNTOWN. Like, a severe one. This has happened every late August for the past few years. What the hell is going on? I wouldn’t mind the wasps if they weren’t so aggressive. As soon as I step out of the office, two or three of these little fuckers swarm around me and refuse to leave me alone. I have nothing for you, wasps!

I’m a little scared to start school because they always find their way onto the Concordia shuttle bus and it’s like, “What the hell? Get out of here!” The ride is grueling enough as it is. I don’t want to have to deal with this. Wasps are mean and I’m scared of them. Why can’t they be nice like their adorable cousin, the bumble bee?

I remember a few years ago, before I moved. I’d hear scratching right above my bed, in my old bedroom. At first, it was really light and no one else heard it. I did. It drove me crazy. I couldn’t sleep at night. I felt like it was getting worse by the second; for a while, I suspected I was losing my mind. Eventually, my parents heard it, too. They assumed that we had rats in the attic. They meant to call an exterminator but because the problem didn’t affect them directly, they didn’t really give a shit. I ended up putting my foot down and demanding that they get someone over. An exterminator came and shocked us all by saying that there were no rats above my bed: there were wasps. A huge nest had developped and had we not called the exterminator over, their sheer weight would have forced the ceiling to collapse. Onto me. While I slept. 

Now, I’ve never been stung. What if I’m allergic? How am I supposed to know? I don’t want to be stung. It looks like it hurts. A lady I work with’s sister had a wasp fly up her nose. It stung her IN HER NOSE! These things are ruthless!

I tried looking up ways to repel wasps but every solution is negated by a commenter claiming that it doesn’t work. I was told to throw water on them because they don’t like water; but to me, it seems that splashing them would get them even more pissed off.

Off topic, but I’m eating lunch right now and I coughed and bits of food and sauce just went all over my screen. I’m laughing but I’m not sure why I find this funny. It’s disgusting, really.

So what am I supposed to do about the wasps?

-Melissa

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