Le Freak, So Chic

Like everyone, certain things freak me out. They don’t usually make sense to most people, but they affect me greatly.

I. Roaches. I grew up living in an old house in a historic neighborhood. I loved many things about the house despite the fact we had no air conditioning and only one bathroom for four people. Despite my parents’ best efforts, though, we had a roach problem. You could blame it on a house with two children who probably left trails of food crumbs wherever they went, but I can tell you my mom made us clean that house every week and it was in pretty good shape. My parents had the place exterminated twice a year, but we still had problems. Mom used to leave our folded clean clothes on the stairs leading to our bedrooms with the idea we were supposed to take them upstairs and put them away. We would pass the piles several times a day, but were too lazy to take them upstairs. Let me tell you, one instance where you put on a shirt that has a live roach in it will change that habit in a heartbeat. The things still freak me out today.

2. Raw meat. I think it’s a texture thing, but I cannot touch raw meat. It completely freaks me out. And don’t dismember a chicken in front of me because I will come unglued. Thankfully, I have Steve here to take care of my raw meat issues. I don’t mind cooking it as long as I don’t have to actually touch it. I’ve been known to pick up pieces with two forks and hold it with one fork while I cut with a knife. Then I slide it into whatever pan I’m cooking it in without actually touching it. Surprisingly enough, I eat sushi. Not the fried, cooked kind, but the actual raw stuff. What can I say, I’m weird.

3. Lingering food smells in my house. If you invite me over for dinner and your whole house smells like cooking, it doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is the lingering smells afterwards when it starts becoming stale and I’m trying to go to sleep. When Steve and I were first married we lived with another couple. Things were fine and we all got along mainly because we all worked different shifts. The only problems occurred when T wanted to make “dinner” at 3:00 a.m. I would awaken to the smell of cooking meatloaf and could never get back to sleep. To this day, if we make something that has a strong smell, I have to douse the house with air freshener before bed.

4. Vomit/vomiting. I spent two years working in an ER and few things really bothered me. Come in dripping blood? No problem. Come in retching? Then we have a problem. We always had “barf buckets” nearby for any accidents, but the sound, smell or idea of vomiting freaks me out. Last winter I battled what ended up being a 24-hour stomach flu. I managed to stave off the vomiting for about 12 hours before I had to let go. I was almost crying as I did it because it was freaking me out so badly. Luckily, I only needed one trip and that was it. No more vomiting for me. And yes, for those of you who don’t know me, I am childless, but my sister can tell you being around vomit doesn’t get any easier!

5. Excessive/weird piercings. In a time when it’s considered “normal” to have tattoos and piercings, you’d think I would be immune to them. And I am, in some ways, but sometimes they freak me out. Take, for example, the popular trend of putting plugs in pierced ear holes and gradually expanding the hole until you could put a finger or more through it. Yuck! All I can think of is that I should have gone to school to become a plastic surgeon and specialized in repairing those things. Just imagine how gross they’ll be when that person is in their 80s. Other piercings that bug me are tongues, eyebrows, cheeks, collarbones and private parts. Sorry, but I just don’t understand it.

6. Eye surgery. I’d love to have LASIK and I know several people who have successfully had their eyesight restored, but eye surgery freaks me out. At least the kind of surgery that would require me to be awake and aware. Blame it on “A Clockwork Orange” and other movies where characters have their eyes forced open for scientific/torture purposes, but it’s too weird and gross for me.

I’m sure I could keep on writing about all the things that give me the willies, but then I’d probably start to freak you out, or freak myself out further. Guess I should quit while I’m ahead!

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