What’s the Worst Thing You can Step on in the Dark?

It’s not been the best week, so I’m grateful that it is Friday. Monday is the start of a new week and a new month. Historically February isn’t a good month for me; it brings with it many reminders that trigger deep bouts of sadness within me, but at least I know to expect them, right?

Anyhow, the inspiration for today’s post, comes from one of the pages I follow on Facebook. It had a post up today posing the question: What’s the worst thing you can step on in the dark?

I can think of quite a few things…

A really bad one for me would probably be one of those hairy rain spiders we get in the Garden Route of South Africa…

…or a (Cape) cockroach, or a Parktown Prawn. In fact, stepping on anything insect or arachnid is enough to give me the willies. Have you ever looked at a cockroach up close? They have little barbs on their feet that hook on your skin if they walk on you. I swear, I threw up in my mouth just thinking about it. I know there is probably a scientific answer for this, but do cockroaches actually serve a purpose? Other than freaking the shit out of people, and surviving a nuclear holocaust, I mean.

Other gross things I wouldn’t want to step in regardless of the colour of the sky outside are any things that smells bad. I retch at the mere whim of sour dairy products. My goddaughter, Lily-Rose was still a teeny tot when I was bouncing her on my knee, and she puked all over me. I handed the teary-eyed little one back to her mother and hauled ass to the bathroom where I myself chucked up. I spent the rest of the day in my dressing gown, because I didn’t have another spare change of clothes, and I avoided even picking Lily-Rose up again. Dog shit is another thing I hope I never step into with bare feet. I remember stepping in it with takkies (SA colloquialism for ‘sneakers’) as a child and not wanting to wear them again, despite them having been laundered in the washing machine.

If you think stepping on a Lego is sore, you’re an amateur. In South Africa, we have thorns called duwweltjies.

They belong with the higher classification of the ‘puncture vine’, which in my opinion, is accurate; when you step on one, it not only punctures the sole of your foot (sometimes through your shoes if the soles aren’t think enough), but your whole body winces for a second. They hurt so badly, even the dogs walk on three legs if they step on one.

Come to think of it, after watching Bones reruns for the umpteenth time, I’d rather step on any of the above, rather than human remains – the odour of the putrefaction will have me vomiting out an entire week’s lunch, the maggots might have spider or roach friends (or both!) and I’m likely to fall face first into a jab of thorns.

BONES: L-R: Emily Deschanel and Tamara Taylor in the “The Secret in the Service” episode of BONES airing Thursday, May 26 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) on FOX. ©2016 Fox Broadcasting Co. Cr: Patrick McElhenney/FOX

Toothy Tears

A while ago I wrote about knowing your emotional triggers. But, what happens when something you used to love, turns out to be a trigger? This is what happened to me earlier this week, which took me by quite a surprise. The Bean and I were watching an Elvis Presley tribute show and every song stirred sadness within me, even Burning Love which used to be one of my ultimate feel good songs. Bring on the love songs and well, I was close to bawling like a child whose favourite tricycle had been chopped up for firewood.

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It didn’t stop there. Night before last I was under the covers watching Covert Affairs for the millionth time and Annie and Auggie finally kissed, the tears were running rivers down my cheeks.

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Knowing that tears are cathartic, I decided to up the ante so I watched the episodes of Bones where Mr. Nigel-Murray and Sweets die, followed by the last episode of Elementary. The latter series holds special meaning for me. The tears though felt less sentimental, but more heartfelt.

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I found myself thinking What the hell is wrong with you, Woman? And then it hit me. I’ve had toothache since the day before Elvis’s crooning.

Now, I am not a lover of the dentist. At. All. So for me to go, out of my own, on a Friday during my holiday and sitting five hours at the local Walk-In dentist and not being helped and then having to leave because of another appointment, and then finding another dentist on a Saturday, must tell you the amount of pain I was in. Turns out that it’s not my tooth at all, well technically not. More than a decade ago, my wisdom teeth were extracted, in the dentist’s chair (I think childbirth must be as painful) and one’s root broke off, staying behind in my jaw. I’ve not had trouble with it. Until now.

The dentist (who has the most beautiful blue eyes) took an x-ray and it turns out that the jaw bone on the one side has healed perfectly, but not on the other (where the problem is). He explained to me in terms I could understand what the issue is and sent me off with a prescription for antibiotics, so large they resemble suppositories.

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He gave me strict instructions that if I was not feeling relief by today, I was to come back, so he could cut into my gum, check inside and sew me up again. I thought, hell no, there is no way I am having someone choppity-chop my gums and then sew me up again. What is the stitches hurt more than the cut? What if lips swelled, making me look like a badly botoxed celebrity? Would I have to get anesthetic? Because that in its own right poses its own challenges – I come out extremely unpleasant. So, instead I smiled (well kind of), telling him I would return if I was still swollen or if brushing my teeth felt torturous. Thank the Pope I woke up this morning feeling a lot better, and looking less like a mumpy chipmunk.

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I even have colour in my cheeks again 🙂

I have a notion that the antibiotics may be playing havoc with my stay-sane meds and that may be why I’m feeling all teary-eyed like an overly-hormonal-pregnant-rabid-dog. I only have three more days left to drink them, so after that I’ll test my Suspicious Mind by getting caught in a trap with all the characters that have made me cry this week. I like to think that what I’ve experienced is a false trigger (if such a thing exists). After all, who doesn’t love The King of Rock ‘n Roll? Or Holmes and Watson being two people that love each other?

Or Piper Perabo kissing a shirtless Christopher Gorham?

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‘Til next year!

Wishing all my readers, and followers a great end to 2019, the best start to 2020. Here’s believing it will be one to remember – for all the right reasons.

Cheers!

Celebrity Crushes

Some time ago, long before I started blogging here at WordPress, I blogged on another platform and there was a challenge going around – “Who is your Celebrity Crush?” At that time (2009), I had a serious thing for James Spader and James Woods (don’t ask me what it was about attorney types in suits) and David Caruso (Elizabeth says she doesn’t know WTH I saw in Horatio Caine), but it was probably his red hair… my first kiss was a guy called Michael Wardle, and he had red hair. And then I dated the Facebook-breaker-upper (twice! What was I thinking??!!), who too had red hair, but lately, my celebrity crushes are still suited (must be from reading those steamy Fifty Shades novels), square-jawed law-enforcers… handcuffs anyone?

Here we have the delectably yummy Agent Seeley Booth of Bones, portrayed by David Borneaz. In one episode of the series, Bones tells Angela, “I find Booth’s symmetry appealing”. Well, so do I!

And then Patrick Jane, The Mentalist, portrayed by Simon Baker (it would be good to note that I am not a blond-bloke fan, but this man is just so hypnotic…)

Last, but in no ways least, is the hot-Hawaii-five-oh-hottie, Steve McGarrett, portrayed by Alex O’ Laughlin.

Right, enough drooling for now…back to work for me.