Tag Archive: paranoia


I’ve been menstruating since, like, sixth grade. Blood coming out of my body is not necessarily a new thing.

But, um, that blood comes out of my vagina. And it’s regular, you know? Like, I can pretty much count on it.  And when I forget about it, I just have to remember the last time I cried in my bed for three days in a row for no particular reason (e.g. Drew uses the last of the milk on his second bowl of cereal Christmas morning; a stranger at Meijer gives me a dirty look; a Folgers Coffee commercial on TV) and I’ll realize that it’s about that time again.

But, this morning, when I realized that my body was gushing blood, I freaked the fuck out.

I do not like blood. I’d be, like, the worst vampire ever. It makes me queasy. Ever since Drew wrecked his face and I had to run from the neighbor’s house at age 5 (or something?) to tell our parents Drew’s lip was … not really on his face anymore, things just haven’t been okay for me and Blood. Even when it comes out of my vagina, I have to distance myself from it; I have to pretend it’s not really blood. Ugh. I have the willies just thinking about it.

Anyway, this gushing blood? It was not coming from my ladybox.

(Sorry I talked about my vagina, Drew.)

I can’t even tell you the last time I had a bloody nose.

Even though I’m clumsy as fuck and run into shit all the time, I haven’t hit my nose in a way that makes it bleed. When Drew chucked a tennis ball at my face, my nose didn’t bleed.

I wasn’t even participating in a strenuous activity. Nothing happened. There was no trauma to my face.

(This leads me to believe that something exploded in my brain and that I’m probably going to die.)

I was driving to work this morning, just driving along listening to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on CD when OUT OF NOWHERE my nose started gushing blood. Literally. I couldn’t get a Kleenex to my face fast enough. There was SO MUCH BLOOD. And it was everywhere.

I was so ill-equipped.  What, with the almost-empty, smashed-to-hell box of Kleenex I keep in my car, the fact I was driving at a barely-legal 78 miles an hour on I-96 at 8am, and OH YEAH I HAVE NEVER HAD A BLOODY NOSE AND ALL OF MY FIRST-AID TRAINING APPARENTLY FLEW OUT OF MY BRAIN IN A PANIC BECAUSE I DO NOT POSSESS GRACE UNDER FIRE.

My intention was that I would be able to stop at Starbucks or Beaners (fuck that, I refuse to call it Biggby) to grab a caramel macchiato or chai latte (respectively) and make it to work on time. Ohhhh, no. That did not happen, although I did pull into the Starbucks parking lot to try to stop the bleeding. To no avail.

I drove the rest of the way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my nose while I called my mother in a panic (she didn’t pick up; she doesn’t love me.) and machine gun-like sobs escaped from my lungs. I cried my way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my left nostril.

So attractive.

When I finally got to work, it looked like I had killed someone.

There was blood ALL OVER my scarf (the one Drew brought home for me from VIENNA!), my coat, the steering wheel in my car, my pants, both of my hands and all down my arms.

I was a fucking mess.

Seriously, that kid on youtube who got all upset about the blood? You know what I’m talking about: BLOOD?! NOT FUNNYYYYYYY!!! He was fucking right.

I even opened the first aid kit I keep in my car for sanitizing wipes to wipe all of the blood off of my hands and the steering wheel.  It only kinda worked, though, because the first aid kit is kinda old and it has been sitting in my car for a while so the wet-wipe thing I used was dried out.  So, mostly, I dumped a fuck-ton of antibacterial hand gel everywhere and wiped with the not-wet-at-all wet-wipe (because I DIDN’T HAVE ANYMORE KLEENEX LEFT!). Things didn’t really work out for me this morning as I was self-conscious about my bloody-ness all day long.

Here’s the silver lining though: at least this didn’t happen on a Monday. My whole week would have been fucked.

(OMG I can’t believe I’m even about to say this- because it’s terrible and very, very offensive, but oh well I’m going to anyway…) All I could think of, though, through the whole ordeal: If I had The HIV, this would be a nightmare. And if I was a hemophiliac, I would be so fucked right now.

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We here are all fairly familiar with crazy.

I know this to be true because when you stop by Adventures from Grandma’s Attic (which, incidentally, is no longer really applicable as a title… hm, I should remedy that….) you get regular doses of crazy from this girl. You get to read all about my tendency to talk to animals, how I get overly emotional on a whim at seriously random shit, the irrational fears I possess, my paranoia about death, the blunders I have had in the kitchen, and various other bouts of crazy.

This kind of crazy is totally okay with me. I even like it.  I’m quite fond of my brand of crazy.

I’ll even be fair and say that Britney Spears’ brand of crazy, while scary and unfortunate (lest we forget the shaving of the head, the attacking of that SUV with an umbrella, and the weird “friendship” with Sam Lufti), didn’t even deter me from being a fan.

I’m an equal-opportunity fan of crazy.

The brand of crazy I’m not okay with? Tom Cruise.

Sell crazy someplace else, we're all stocked up here!

Ick.

Seriously.

Gross.

Dude, something about that couch-jumping incident just turned me off. Scientology also kinda freaks me out. I don’t know too much about it, but it seems a little cult-ish. Also, who the fuck divorces Nicole Kidman?! Back in the day, when she wasn’t addicted to Botox, she was going places and she was gorgeous. You don’t just bail on that. Unless you’re an insecure prick… Just sayin’.

With all this said, you might be surprised to know that it seems that I have come down with a case of the I-Heart-Tom-Cruise-Movies-And-Can’t-Seem-To-Get-Enough’s.

It started out innocently enough.

A few weeks ago, we bought Knight & Day on Blu-Ray. It had just been released and I was planning on staying in one Saturday night (story of my life!).

That same day, we bought Jerry Maguire on Blu-Ray because we didn’t own it.

Last weekend, I watched Top Gun for the first time.

Uhm, hello, why did NO ONE tell me Goose dies?! I HAD NO IDEA!! It was the kind of devastation I faced when I saw Up Close & Personal for the first time when I found out that Robert Redford’s character died and Michelle Pfeiffer was devastated. Oh. Em. Gee. It’s just heartbreaking. If you haven’t seen it, I apologize for ruining the movie for you, but you simply must see it. You’ll love it. I know it!

Anyway, yeah. Goose. Shit, that was sad! I really thought that it was just a love story that made Take my Breath Away really popular. I didn’t know it was an epic bromance movie too! Oh, be still my beating heart, I love bromances! They’re precious.

That brings us to today: I bought A Few Good Men from Target for $5. I love $5 movies. And A Few Good Men is a great fucking movie. I watched it the second I got home today.

And now, because I ate way too much cookie dough when I made chocolate chip cookies this afternoon, and I consumed a great amount of chocolate, I just have the need to watch Jerry Maguire.

Pretty soon I’m gonna have to go buy Rain Man, because that’s a great movie too. And Risky Business because I haven’t’ seen that and now’s as good a time as any.

It would seem that I’m a Tom Cruise fan. Officially. And there’s really not a whole lot I can do about it. It just happened.

But I’d just like to reiterate: he freaks me out.