I say Football you say Friday

I was driving by my old high school the other day and I had a flashback to our Friday Night Football. I could smell the food... see the crowd and the lights... hear the loudspeaker....feel people on all sides of me as I make my way to my seat. It was a great feeling. I could just feel the energy emanating off of the grass outside of my car. It made me feel so alive. Even though it was void of people at the time, I could see it all in my mind so clearly like it was last night. I felt the adrenalin rush I would get when I saw our first tackle of the season. It was crazy. I loved the atmosphere. I didn't love the whole squeezing through the crowd thing, but I knew we were all there for the same reason (well mostly). We were there to support our team and to watch the game. We were there to boo the other team when they got their first touchdown. We were there to rush the field after a fantastic game to show everyone who owns this field. You could say I miss having something to support. I miss being a part of something bigger than myself. It's too bad that I don't feel the same way about the kids that are playing now. I tried going to a game a few years ago and it just wasn't the same. They aren't my classmates, they aren't my generation. I don't understand them - they don't understand me. I might never be able to have the same Friday Night Football feeling again, but at least it's still in my heart. I'll never forget those awesome Friday nights.

Monday Morning Haze

This morning was one of those mornings where you wake up and try to figure out who you are, where you are, and what you are supposed to be doing.

Where am I? I have a dog? Why is this alarm going off? Oh, I probably have to work today...

And you know what? I am grateful for this momentary amnesia. It helps me appreciate everything I have. When I wake up... I am always somewhere safe. I have a dog! I have an alarm to wake me up and get me to work on time. I can hear my mom yelling at me to get up, and I'm grateful because I have a mother that doesn't want me to be late for work. As things start becoming clear to me I smile because I know that I am in a good place.

Then I bury my head back into my pillow wishing I could go back to sleep, but that happens every morning... haha!

Flashbacks?

Lately, when my dog or any dog gets really close to my face I have a flashback of sorts. When Topanga leans in to lick my face I envision her getting mean and biting my face instead. It's not pleasant to think about and I immediately put it out of my head because there is no way my dog would ever do that. It's just something I think I'm dealing with since I was bitten by my cousin's dog. I let Topanga lick my face and right away I am calmed by the fact that even if she knows I had a flash of fear, she is not going to hurt me. I'm so lucky to have her. She is definitely helping me get through this semi traumatic experience. I appreciate her ability to help me even if she's not really trying to help me.

Can't Touch This

Or that... or those.

In fear of sounding really psychotic, I'm going to write about it anyway.

I can't touch certain "rough" fabrics without getting goosebumps. Microfiber feels gross to me. It sticks on the dry parts of my hands and it just doesn't feel right. Sandpaper and anything that looks or feels like sandpaper is off limits. I can't sand anything without feeling really crappy and getting major goosebumps. I used to beg other students in wood shop or art class to sand my projects for me. I know other people have similar issues (like my aunt who can't touch suede), but mine gets worse. I can't file my nails. Unless I have ear plugs and I close my eyes. Even seeing my nails being filed with no noise - somehow I still feel it. The chills go straight to the top of my head! And if you think that's bad... how about eating potato chips? Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the sandpaper feel on my teeth that it just isn't worth eating them at all! I like the taste, but not the feel. Ha. So weird...

Just thought I'd share. Those are my "nails on a chalkboard"... oh, I forgot that's one of the worst! I have to cover my ears during that scene in Better Off Dead... HORRRRRIBLE!!!!!

Chromo what?

Is it just me or do some colors make you feel sick? Especially some colors together. I don't like watching shows that use certain shades of orange and green together. Those colors in those certain shades make me feel sick to my stomach. I'm not exactly sure why...

I found this interesting article, but there still seems to be no data as to why or how emotions are evoked from specific colors.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_symbolism_and_psychology

Perhaps whenever I was sick in school they sent me to a nurses station which had orange chairs and green carpeting... bleh.... perhaps it is just an association and maybe new associations can be formed...?

I should conduct my own experiments and see if I can somehow surpass my sickly feelings when seeing certain color combinations.

Maybe I can extend my experiments to my little cousins... "do you like this color?" "how does it make you feel?" "why does it make you feel like that?" "does it remind you of something?" "like a big yellow cartoon character?? - is that why it makes you feel happy???" - Ok, not sure I will get too far on that one... but it's still interesting.

It's not like riding a bike...

I think I'm forgetting how to cook. I've been living with my mom for a bit... and she's such a good cook that --well why should I bother? I mean it might be a nice break for her, but why mess with a good thing? So the flip side of that is that I think I'm forgetting how to cook. Not good. I don't want to have to start all over again and burn things and not cook things long enough and starve myself in the process because I can't eat half of what I make! Just when I was beginning to get brave, the security blanket was flitted (is that even a word?) in front of me and I grabbed it. Let me be honest, I never liked cooking. I had a semi curious nature when it came to cooking, but I was completely happy allowing my mom to cook for me at all times of the day. Now, I feel that I need to really learn and remember so that I can cook for myself and someday for my family and someday for my grandkids -- all so that I and they can have the wonderful foods that I have grown up eating. See, it's all selfless here... Ok, never mind... I really am spoiled by my mom's food and sometimes even prefer eating her food to eating out! I didn't just say that... anyway... today I have volunteered to make a dish that I don't even like... FISH... ICK...GROSS!! But-- I'll only eat the fish my mom makes... so I guess I had better learn to make it.

Storage Incident

So, I have a storage unit... and the other day I went and got some summer clothes (we are having a very late summer this year). And, I find a box of nice work shirts and figure I can use them. I bring them home and start taking them out of the box and laying them out to assess and remember the long forgotten shirts from my storage.

As I am laying them out I notice this big clump of something... what the heck is it?! It looked like a birds nest made of material. I get closer so I can really see it without touching it and I realize that it is material from the shirts I am pulling out of this box. Hmmm... how is that possible? I look closer at the shirts... yup... it's from them. There's a nice hole in almost every one of the shirts.

Then I start to get nervous... Is there something in the box I am pulling these out of? There doesn't appear to be anything in the wad of material, but I'm not too sure yet. I grab a hangar and push the wad to the floor nothing falls out of it. I guess that's good. I tip the box and cautiously pull out my formal bridesmaid dress that I spent a bit of money on to only wear once and keep in storage. Well, thankfully no holes in it, but there are stains.... GREAT! Now I can't sell it on craigslist. I guess it was not going to go on craigslist anytime soon... BUT... I now have to see if I can get it drycleaned so that perhaps someday I can post it on craigslist... -- and the listing will read -- pretty blue formal dress, worn once, housed a few mice and was peed on in a few spots, was dry cleaned, so no big deal, you will probably only wear it once and keep it in storage anyway.

Ok, getting back to the box. I pull the dress out and freak out about the stains and then I carefully peek in the box. Granted I am not afraid of mice -- no, really, I'm not, I had them as pets as a kid -- I wanted to make sure that whatever mice where in the box were not rabid and were not going to jump on me and give me reason to have a rabies shot for the second time in my life ((another story for another time)).

Ok, all that suspense for nothing! I guess that's good. No more rabies shots for me - they really hurt by the way. Nothing but mouse poo... ew!

To top off my lovely story the storage company will not reimburse me. But they can give me some traps if I stop in the office. You know what?! NO!! I'm not going to put mouse traps in my storage unit so that I my clothes can then smell of dead mice. And I'm not going to get rid of the bodies myself. And I'm not going to kill the poor little mice that so innocently ruined my things. I guess it's time to find another storage unit.