Sleep on It

The other day, I was watching some mindless ABC television program documenting the lives of 'Sleep Eaters'. This parasomnia, or abnormal behavior, during sleep is a common occurrence among nearly a million Americans.

"We've had patients consume cat food sandwiches." an article relates, "They've put coffee grounds, Coca-Cola, and eggshells in a blender and consume it. They eat Elmer's Glue. They chew on chunks of frozen pizza and then try to swallow it. They're like sleeping zombies, just walking around headless. Except that they have a mouth to feed."

This is just awesome.

So here's my question:
Why in the mother of all sin can't I suffer from a parasomnia?

I will happily take any of the following:
1) Sleep exerciser
2) Sleep job searcher
3) Sleep chicken dancer

Let's face it.
That last one would be freakin' hilarious.

I can just see it now.

Actually, the parasomnia I'm really good at is turning off my alarm in my sleep.

Which is an increasingly alarming (excuse my pun) habit.

I'll awaken suddenly to Gem getting in the shower which, of course, means 'you have approximately 10 minutes before you should be ready and out the door'.

Commence cursing, sprinting, banging into walls, etc.

"How in the monkey did my alarm not go off AGAIN?!!", I'll wonder frantically.

Then I look down and see that I'm holding my phone.
Which means it did go off. And that I disabled the most annoying 'rooster crowing' alarm ever to have been invented by man at its highest volume...

in. my. sleep.

I should really get more than five hours of sleep per night...

That way, I'd be coherent enough to respond to my alarm and avoid intentionally vague emails from my ever-concerned mother warning against the 'evils of sin'. In this instance, sin equaling staying up late.

Well if the horns fit!

In other news, during my research on 'sleep eaters', I came across some very useful knowledge.

Apparently, though I may turn off alarms, I don't swallow spiders in my sleep.

"In order to swallow a spider in your sleep, a number of unlikely coincidences would all have to occur in sequence. You'd have to be sleeping with your mouth pretty wide open. If a spider crawled on your face and over your lips, you'd likely feel it, so a spider would have to approach you by descending from the ceiling above you on a silk thread. The spider would have to hit the target – your mouth - dead center to avoid tickling your lips. And if it landed on your tongue, a highly-sensitive surface, you would feel it for sure. So the spider would have to land at the back of your throat without touching anything on the way in. And then you'd have to swallow."

Now don't you feel better?

Death by Cricket.

One day I'll die.
It's a certifiable fact. There's no way out of it. You're going to die.
I'm going to die.

It's going to happen.

But the point is, today I figured out how it's going to go down.
There are three options:

A) I will be nonchalantly strolling on BYU campus when a killer grasshopper will unsuspectingly shoot out of the bushes and land on my pantleg. I will then die of fright and possibly crush the culprit in a dramatic death faint.

B) I will swallow a cricket in my sleep and choke to death.

C) I will be violently attacked by an orchestra of Mormon crickets while vacationing upon which time they will carry me into the forest. I'll never be heard from again.

*Sidenote* When I say an 'orchestra' of crickets, I do not mean a large group of musical insects who play instruments in a soothing and synchronized manner. That's really what a group of crickets is called. Don't believe me? Look it up.

To be safe, there is also option D, which involves being attacked by a horde of crickets/grasshoppers while sleepwalking on BYU campus at which point I will die of fright while simultaneously choking on one of the little beasts as they drag me into the bushes.

But those chances aren't as likely.

All I know is, that when I hear a rustle in the bushes or see any type of hopping bug in my path, time stops and my vision instantly magnifies by 200% until I see this staring at me...

Cue HORROR.

Sure, there are always exceptions.
For example, Jiminy Cricket sings about wishing on stars.
How menacing can that be?

And Crickee, on Mulan, is one lucky bug.

What you mean, a loser? How 'bout if I pop one of your antennas off and throw it across the yard? Then who's the loser, me or you?

On the other hand, further solidifying my argument, there is Hopper from A Bug's Life. That guy is truly evil incarnate.

I mean, look at his face!
ANGRY EYES with teeth all clenched and terrifying. (Do grasshoppers have teeth?... Great. Yet another thing to worry about.)

I attribute this acute aversion of all hopping pests to a certain childhood memory. Let me recite:

One day, Corinner-Elly was eating her lunch all happy and carefree-like. This was because she was eating a drumstick from one of her most favoritest places ever: KFC. She smiled and chewed and hummed and decided that the world was a good place and love was indeed fried. All too soon, she came to the end of her meal. Full to the brim and pleasantly satisfied, she leaned back to swallow the last few gulps of milk in her cup when, there, at the bottom of her glass, suddenly...

she saw IT.

Later, upon revival and subsequent hospitalization, she came to learn that a cricket infestation had taken place in the dishwasher earlier that month and she had become the unfortunate recipient of one of its casualties.

Or at least part of a casualty.

And that, dear children, is why Corinner-Elly was never able to eat KFC again. Or at least never accompanied by a glass of milk.

The End.

Baby Steps

Back by popular demand, today I will be introducing 'Things to Fear', part II. To begin, allow me to introduce Exhibit A:
one of the latest Savage Chickens comics.

Ya see? So many, many things to be concerned about.
My nightmares are starting to multiply.

And I haven't even mentioned Exhibit B:
Bob Wiley & Dr. Leo Marvin from one of the most hilarious movies ever made--> What About Bob?. *Excuse the Tourette's.*



Such words of wisdom.
My new philosophy: "If I fake it, then I don't have it."

I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful...

But in all seriousness.
I recently discovered that I have developed a new and completely validated worry.

I live in constant fear of running over a kitten.

I'm sure you can relate. One minute, you're drivin' along, mindin' your own business and then all of a sudden, *gulp* you hit a small speed bump with fur.

Mind you, I've never personally experienced such horrors (unless you count that kamikaze pheasant that flew into my passenger side door out of nowhere).

Or that poor little sparrow that I may-or-may-not have accidentally clothes-lined in an effort to swerve out of his path...

But even imagining something so gruesome is enough!

Imagine. Could there possibly be anything more dramatic?
I mean, a kitten! One of God's most adorable creations. A kitten never did anything to you! How can a person ever come to terms with life after mowing down something so entirely innocent and completely undeserving of such a fate?...

That's right! I'm talking to the monster's who ran down Cheeto, Frito and poor little Josephine-Tangerine. MURDERERS!

I hope that, one day, while trying to cross the street in the dead of night, you are shown the same courtesy that you have shown them.

Now they're in kitty heaven...

Sidenote: rest assured, my new philosophy (*see above*) won't help out much when it comes to my new and completely validated worry.

I have no intentions of proving that theory.

Doompadee Doo.

A wise man once said, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."
I beg to differ. We have plenty to fear.

For instance:
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia- Fear of long words.
(My irony radar is going off...)
Alektorophobia- Fear of chickens.
(Well that's just silly. They're practically the most loving creatures on earth.)
Coprastasophobia- Fear of constipation.
(Hello fiber!)
Bolshephobia- Fear of Bolsheviks.
(Been there.)
Zemmiphobia- Fear of the great mole rat.
(They have teeth. Like this!)

See? All valid concerns.

Coincidentally, the radio talkshow host I was listening to this morning introduced a new topic: strange phobias. Several callers phoned in, one who claimed that his wife suffered from linonophobia (fear of string) and that socks practically rendered her catatonic.

I wondered how she handles string cheese?

But I've gone off topic. Here's what I have to say:
Many a good person is afraid of one thing or another.

Take, for instance, my sister-in-law. She suffers from acute arachnaphobia. Not only do spiders give her the heebie-jeebies, she attests to their continual plotting; forevermore in league to unite and destroy her while she sleeps.

So naturally, when I saw this latest Savage Chickens comic, I couldn't help but think of her. And wonder if I have now caused her paranoia to shift, perhaps?...

Mine certainly has.

Actually, I have bigger issues.
(I know. You never would have guessed.)

Namely, nanosophobia: fear of dwarfs, midgets and little people.

Well... in a manner of speaking.

You want me to expound upon this? Are you sure you want to witness the horror? Do ya, do ya, do ya? Fine.

Wanna know what's really fiendishly freakish?

Something that makes my stomach churn?

The stuff of nightmares as a child?

Heck. The stuff of nightmares as an adult?

Okay. I'll tell/show you.

Oompa-Loompas.
(Doesn't the name strike fear in your heart?)

Come on now.
Anything with green hair and a red-orange face is un-natural.

Yet another strange and un-earthly example can be found in Mr. Tumnus from the animated version of 'The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe'. Be warned. Mental scarring may occur.

Are you freaked out yet!?

It took a good amount of courage to search these videos out for you on YouTube. You should thank me for facing my fears.

Then again... you may also want to hunt me down and gut me like a fish for passing on the nightmares of green-haired, red-faced dwarfs who sing satanically as frightening little words bounce around the room.

Or of a demonish half-goat man who plays evil music to 'Sons of Adam' & 'Daughters of Eve' in hopes of lulling them into a false sense of security before shipping them off to the villainous White Witch.

You're not thinking that, right? *nervous laugh*

I'm scared.