The Inconveniences of My Life

I could be doing anything, anywhere and then bam! Panic attack. It comes out of no where, sneaks up on me when I least expect it. And every single time it strikes, it leaves me feeling helpless, like I’m literally going to have a heart attack and die. In all honesty, it’s the worst feeling in the entire world. As I’m desperately trying to trick my mind into thinking that it’s going through nothing more than a freak-out episode, I can’t help but think of death. Like a lot of people out there, my biggest fear is death and leaving those I love behind. Yes, I might be sounding a tad bit dark here, but it’s a fact. When your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest and your breathing become irregular, you’re forced to think about the things you avoid thinking of on a daily basis.
Having a full blown panic attack makes me feel like I’m no longer in control of myself, weak and fragile. Afterwards, there’s a terrible sense of being ashamed of myself, like there’s something wrong with me. Following that, there’s the paranoia of what others may think after having seen me nearly fall to pieces. When I’m having one of my attacks, I can’t determine which is worse: going through it alone with no one there to calm me or to have someone there with me, only to feel humiliated afterwards. It’s a real catch 22.
So that about wraps up my self-therapeutic blog. I could go further into detail about panic attacks, but I think I’ll save it for a rainy day. Until then...I guess I'll just need to take a chill pill. Literally.

Nicknames; Good or Bad? I say 'good' and here's my reason why!

What’s in a nickname? Well, a lot of things actually. Nicknames are given to people for plenty of reasons and I for one can vouch for that. I can’t even begin to list the names I’ve been given in my lifetime. As far back as I can remember, the first nickname I earned was ‘Staplebutt’, which of course was derived from my maiden name which I won't list here. Just take my word for it.

Now as the years rolled on and I entered the 7th grade, I was blessed with the moniker, ‘Caesar’. Why, do you ask? Because I participated in a play and played the role of the Roman Emperor. To this day I recall staggering with my hand over my chest, breathing out my last words, “Et tu Brute? Then fall Caesar!”

Oh, and ‘Larry’. Yes, that was another one I winced at. I hated that one with a passion, more than likely because it was a guy’s name. I don’t know when that one started but I sure in the hell am glad that no one calls me that anymore. But now that I brought it up I’m sure I just jinxed myself.

From my high school years there’s one name that particularly stands out from the rest. It all started with this guy I had the hugest crush on. His name was Nick and I did just about anything and everything to get him to notice me. This took skill and it was no easy feat! I even went so far as to purposely acting like a complete moron in front of him! That got his attention. We never did go out but I was damned proud of the nickname he gave me; ‘Simpleton’. Again, another name deriving from my maiden name. *rolls eyes*

Now this last one is my favorite and I’m more than certain I’ll remember it until I’m laid to rest. About a year and a half ago, several friends and I were chatting in an online conference room. They were in the middle of talking about something and I went wandering off on the internet like a toddler would in a store. I was doing some research for a quick story I was writing at the time and checked Wikipedia out to see if they’d have the info. What I was looking for pertained to the pupil of the eye, but much to my shock, I found a picture of a goat with a tag in it’s ear reading 666! The number of the Beast! The image shown here is the same exact picture I found that day!
I freaked at the irony. I hurried back into the conference chat and blurted something along the lines of finding the goat and the tag in it’s ear. It’d become apparent that I’d interrupted the conversation when nobody said anything in the short seconds that followed. That was when I earned the nickname ‘Goat Girl’, or ‘GG’ for short. Another name earned that day was ‘Shiny’ because of my silly randomness and ability to become easily distracted.

Wrapping this blog up, I can honestly say that when I’m much, much older, I’ll be able to remember these names that’d been given to me throughout the various stages of my life and along with it, the wonderful people that’d given them to me.

Toy Makers, you may have some pissed off parents pounding on your front doors!

Question to all parents: Why do toy manufactures insist on making their toys so damn hard to get out of the box? I’ll tell you what, I just spent nearly fifteen minutes removing a toy crane truck out it’s box for my 3 ½ year old. While he’s screaming at me to hurry up, I’m untwisting those damn wire twisty ties, cutting tape, pulling off plastic packaging and so forth. By the time I’m done I’ve worked up a sweat. Alright, so perhaps I’m exaggerating on that last part but in all honesty, is there really any reason why a toy manufacturer would want to make their toys so damned complicated to remove from the box? That’s my gripe of the day. I’m writing a letter to the toy company that made the truck that they wasted fifteen minutes of my life and I want them back. Oh, wait…no refunds without the receipt. Damn.