humor, sleep, Uncategorized

Stranger Things Scares Me

I don’t know WHY I thought I’d be able to watch the new hit Netflix show, Stranger Things, and not become… oh, gee, petrified? No. Fossilized? Nooo, what’s the word…. *tick tock *tick tock… yeah, petrified. Petrified works.

All you crazy peeps, with your InstaStories, and your convincing reactions be like:

“Oh my God!”images

“I can’t believe this… ”

“What on earth… this show is amazing!”

Blah. Blah. Blah. Yeah right. I fell for it and all I got for it were these lousy nightmares. Said not one of my t-shirts.

I have conveniently forgotten how much I hate scary movies. It’s like avoiding the dentist for me. I put it off and then go, hmmm, it might be time for a check-up. Hence, I started mulling around with the idea that this is something I should get into. The dentist? No. The new show. Don’t do it. Now, keep in mind, I just don’t do frighteningly terrifying things. Nope. Not my cup of tea. I get night sweats. I get scared. and, frankly, with all the terror that can be found on the daily on television and the like, why open myself up to even more possibilities.  

Unknown-3Additionally, I’m not a ‘crazy for new shows’ kind of girl either; it literally takes me a few seasons of ANY new show to give it a shot, and 9 out of 10 times, once I get into it, and I LOVE it…

it gets cancelled,

or it remarkably has a “series finale” in the right hand corner of the damn screen.

Every time.

And mind you,  Stranger Things is most unnerving… So, yeah, I’m a little hesitant when choosing new stuff to watch. Add some spookiness to it? Forget it. Let’s keep it in perspective. It took me over 5 seasons to get into The Walking Dead for gripes sake!

Fast forward to a conversation with my mother, who loves scary crap to the point of -NOTHING alarms her. I mean, NOTHING. Not a panic-inducing entity without a face. Not an attack crab monster that lives in the walls. NOT. A. DAMN. THING.
And, I’m a little envious of people who can actually watch that creepy material without incident. Why? Oh…

“Oh no sweetheart, this isn’t a scary one at all. You’re going to love this show,” said Mom.

I’ll get to that in a minute. The nail in the coffin – no pun intended – was my freaking mother convincing me that Strangers Things is so amazing. “You will totally like this one. It’s not too scary so you’ll be fine.” This coming from a woman who’s known me my whole life. I had nightmares from a Stephen King novel-to-movie for over ten years. You all know the one. THere’s a cat and the parents of the kid thinks the cat is stealing children’s breath while they sleep; but, its really these creepy mice things who live in the walls, and have crab claws for hands. Who are the culprits of this breath-stealing nonsense. In the end, the cat ends up swatting the crab/mice evil into a desk fan and that’s the end of that evil, splattered all over the walls. Oh, by the way, if you don’t remember this book-to-film…heads up, spoiler alert. Gee thanks, Rita. You’re welcome!

To sum up: I dreamt of those bastards coming out of my bedroom walls for my entire childhood. Way to use your insight, mama.


So, it’s Halloween night – what better night to start a haunting series than on Halloween, right? *sarcasm -Anyway,  I’m ready for the trick-or-treaters, dressed up, candy, and my brand new show that I’m convinced I’m totally going to love. The first three minutes in, I am hooked. And if you follow me on Instagram, you already know this because I Instastoried it, put the phone down and was all about this show the rest of the evening. Six episodes later, and not one trick-or-treater, it was time to walk away from this enthralling show – wait for it – and I was pretty excited about it but it was time to shut it down and hit the hay. I shower, had a little anxiety with the washcloth, remove my makeup, and awakened the next morning from a dream where clumps of tangled human hair balls were stuck in my throat and I was removing cluster after cluster of my own fur out of my mouth. Boo!

Yeah, you read that right. Clumps. Of tangled hair balls. Stuck in my throat.

Damn you, Stranger Things. Damn you.

Keep in mind, there wasn’t even a scene like that in the show. Although, there’s a storyline for your writers. Evil dimension mother f****rs.

stock-photo-hygiene-toddler-toilet-scare-toilette-restroom-scared-hygienic-toilet-seat-1cc4d170-7b67-412b-82b1-9a1471a270f1Clearly, I did not recall the last time my mother (and sister) both coerced me to going to the theatre to see The Grudge way back when and I could retire to my docile in peace for 8 months. Why the hell did I think I could watch a “it’s not that creepy” CREEPY ASS production like that, and NOT have insane night terrors?! Told you so. And why would someone want to be scared so much anyway! Everyone knows you don’t crawl into a gooey tree in the forest; but I watched the girl do it and I kept watching because I thought I just HAD TO SEE IT. I had to see what was on the other side of the freaking tree.


Moral of the story: Nothing good ever comes from an evil gooey tree.

humor, sleep

The UFO And My Ankles

This morning I was too afraid to get out of bed. Why? Because I am sure, at 4 am; the usual time I get up, there was a beam of light shining – and humming –  into my bedroom windows. Cue *Twilight Zone* music here…


images-3Uh… okay… Hence, I was too afraid to hop up. Insane. Too scared to hop out of bed?! Yes! I’d rather take on an intruder in my home than some UFO. Yeah… getting beamed up towards the sky with a goat doesn’t sound that fun to me. Anyway, it was outside my window; not yours, and I lay in bed clinging to my sheets for dear life!

(I exclamation point, to exasperate the seriousness, of my point.)

And should it actually have been beings from another world to come take me away; I might as well let my significant other be the hero and let him get sucked up into that cargo ship. That would be the gentleman-ly thing to do. There’s not much meat on me anyway for them to carve up; so really, I’m doing a good thing here.

Seriously, stop watching the History Channel.

Wait, sidebar, why exactly are shows about aliens on the history channel? When people “see’ them and tell someone, no one believe the coocoo bird anyway. So, a historic event? Overkill. Maybe. Not really sure…. there WAS something outside my window, NOT, resembling a street lamp.

As I contemplate, it’s similar to when a police officer’s radar gun goes off when trying images-4to catch speed racers on a highway, aliens using these ray beams probably work the same way. No. Or disintegrate you. Likely.

Either way, as long as I’m the smaller object I’m hiding under the covers… not getting pulled up by a saucer with my ankles over my head…

…I’m soooo not getting abducted.

“Have a good a time up there, hun! Send a postcard!”

What a great plan.

Which got me to thinking… I need to stop watching the UFO shows on television.

Exercise, humor, self-help, Uncategorized

Diet Dumb Down

cat-74134.jpegOnce in a while, I peruse online videos –like cat videos – no -and wonder about learning something new. About a new diet phenom. Sometimes I do learn about a new weight loss challenge. Do cats go on diets? Quiet, you. Most times I don’t learn anything. Darn it.  Most of it is just nonsense because the reality is that we all know to eat our veggies and just get off our butts and workout. Sing it, sister! That’s it. And, forget about the cat being on a diet. You don’t need an uprising. Anyway… I had realized at the beginning of this year, I had gained a little weight and was NOT happy about it.

Wah! I want to hold a cat now!  You can’t… you’re allergic. 

So, I started getting back on track. Yay! I was working out and eating right but it just wasn’t bringing the weight down to my desired goal. What goal was that? Stealing the neighbor’s feline, and hitting a treadmill? Maybe. And then I found intermittent fasting. And a cat with a headband who was ready to rock. Which was great to stumble upon; (IF, not the exercise kitty) but not so great to watch and read millions of content that was literally making me dizzy with confusion and annoyance.

Like this, *ah *ah *achoooooo, cat allergy… here, hold this fluffy thing for me so I can explain without going into anaphylactic shock.pexels-photo-384555

While I care about facts and results, I care much more deeply on acquiring this information quickly, with ease and bullet pointed. I don’t want pages and pages of crap, garbling up my existence.

Garbles of crap. Existence being garbled…  standby.

Now, this isn’t to say I don’t enjoy a good romance novel here -which are some times long, with garbles of pages to read (unlike my romance novella series, which is great, you should read it. Just saying… )

Shameless plug much? Hush. Go find a meow-meow or something. Focus.

But I most definitely don’t want my “how-to do somethings” and “hey, what’s new that I want to learns” thwarted into my pea-brain all willy nilly. Most of the time, out of everything we read and watch, we can bet that less than 20% of what was just shoved down your throat was the heart… of the three hours you wasted on whatever the heck it was you were trying to learn. Case in point. History Channel. Spends an hour going in and out of commercials, repeating the same things over and over… and you learn only a few things at the beginning, once in the middle and the main thing at the end you were waiting for… or became disappointed by.

Was that your version of a statistical fact? Um, yeah, I guess so. Oh, geez… 

Well, yeah, I could’ve walked my giraffe in her tutu that she’s been bugging me to wear!

That being said. After weeks and months of researching and clouding my monkey brain with information on the subject, I decided to simplify it. No one else should have to work as hard as I did to find out what they want to know! I know, I was sent from heaven. An angel of sorts. Here the soft sounds of music above my halo?

I just feel we are in the age of over-information, over-stimulation, and the “I’m over-everything-ation.” Could just be you, darling. Yes, that could be correct. Wouldn’t be the first time. Nope. images

Too much! Circling back, here’s my simplified version, sans a Frito-eating purring puffball,  on the subject of IF. Or intermittent fasting – for those who aren’t up on the diet fad’s lingo.

Oh, and I left my wings and harp at home, sorry guys!