Things that terrify me, in no particular order:
- Toddlers in heels/lipstick/makeup. Come on people, stop sexualizing your six year old. It's scary as hell, and kind of inappropriate. No anecdote for why, it just creeps me the hell out.
- Birds. They scare the ever-loving bejesus out of me. Once, when I was very small, a goose bit me in the stomach, and then chased me. I've also been bitten by pigeons, chased and attacked by a swan, and chased by chickens. I don't enjoy birds.
- People on the bus. Not that there is anything wrong with them as individuals, but I've had people on the bus say some pretty terrifying things to me. Like this one dude spend like five minutes telling me how beautiful I am, then asking if I can sing/model because he was a "modelling agent." Hah. I wanted to say, "Dude, I have a friend that is a model. Modelling agents DON'T hang out in dirty sneakers and ratty polo shirts at bus stops, and they DON'T speak Ebonics. Go find some other gullible white girl."
- Hobos. Not because they are hobos, but because I have serious social anxiety and an inability to say no. The other day, this woman (hobo status unknown) came up to me with her crazy eye (which were legit crazy, not being rude) and asked me for two quarters. I don't carry cash so I told her no. Then ten minutes later she came back, asked AGAIN, and when I repeated myself she said, and I quote, "Every one is dead because of you, you fat ass son of a mumble mumble..." as she walked off. Ruined my day.
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| Except this guy. I would give this guy all my money. [Source] |
- Having kids. This is a biggie. Not because I don't like kids in particular, but for several other multi-faceted reasons. I'm terrified of what it will do to my body (stretch marks, even BIGGER boobs, etc) and the fact that I think I will be a terrible mom. Plus, women in my family tend to gain like 60-80 pounds (!!) during their pregnancy. 80 pounds for a 6 pound baby?? That's nuts. And I know for a FACT that my skin is not elastic, as I ALREADY have stretch marks from weight gain. Call me selfish, but I'm just not ready to devastate my body in order to bring a screaming poop machine that will turn into a screaming teenager into the world. I'm not sure when I will be, but definitely not before I turn thirty.
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