Things That Freak Me Out, In Order From Most to Least Justifiable

Things That Freak Me Out, In Order From Most to Least Justifiable

My neighbors. They yell a lot and I can’t tell if it’s normal parent-child antagonism or Lifetime Network’s wet dream.

Crowds. Particularly those gathered for a single event, such as college football games and Toby Keith concerts.

Surgery. When people tell me stories about major procedures they’ve had, I generally cover my ears and scream until they stop. I have done this to friends, coworkers, and even a boss or two.

Stop signs. I once lived in a neighborhood constantly monitored by stop sign police. I have been sufficiently trained to make the world’s most complete stops.

Eyeballs.  The thought that if I lose one (or both) that I will never get them back. Also, the thought that I’ve had the same eyeballs since I was born, and it’s weird to think about eyeballs growing.

Calamari. I actually love calamari, but I’m afraid to order it because sometimes you get entire baby squids instead of rings and they look like deep-fried spiders. I’ve learned after several squidling sneak-attacks to just find something else lightly battered and deep-fried to calm my fatty cravings.

Bees. Just…bees. Things that sting. I’ve never been stung. Fear of the unknown. And stings.

That guy from the Kardashians who looks like Patrick Bateman. I keep waiting for Huey Lewis. He never shows up.

Lasagna. It looks and feels like body parts that are supposed to stay on the inside.

The word “panties.”  I feel yucky when I hear that word. I’ve found that I’m not alone in this. I once took a creative nonfiction writing class, and when asked what our least favorite words were, the majority of the class listed “panties” and “moist.”

Having metal touch my teeth. This is why I tend to eat 2,000 calories worth of snacks throughout the day instead of 3 square meals. The best kinds of snacks do not require utensils.

Wet plastic bags. They make a weird squeaky sound when two sides are rubbed together and they stick to skin like wet hair. My parents made me sort the empty aluminum cans as a kid. Moist (ugh!) grocery bags are reminiscent of stale Budweiser and Diet Pepsi, and also the occasional sweaty gallon of milk in the summer time.

Lisa Nachtman