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Showing posts with label heebie jeebies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heebie jeebies. Show all posts

Thursday, March 15, 2018

a new find and no surprises

"That's kinda creepy"

"Okay, but other than 'creepy', what are your thoughts?"

Thinking... thinking... thinking...  All I could think was "creepy"

Magnum and I joined a different gym last weekend.  It's cheaper than the high-falutin' gym we'd belonged to, and it's located right in our neighborhood.  The high-falutin' place is nice, and the high price is justified because it has a lot of amenities we never utilized.  So far, I like the new place.

As part of our membership, we get two free 3D body scans along with a "fitness profile" generated by the scan.

Welp, okay.



So I had my initial 3D scan fitness profile earlier this week.  I managed to find my way to the women's locker room and then find the scanner/advisor person.

The whole procedure didn't really tell me anything I didn't already know...

...which is that I have no curves.




With that out of the way, I could get down the business of finding my way around.

I found the gear shop. 

I found the smoothie bar.

I found the healthy power snacks

One of these days, I might actually exercise there.

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Linking up again with Mama Kat for the prompt:
4. Write a blog post inspired by the word: found



Tuesday, April 29, 2014

what should we name him?

Okay.  You guys...

*I'm whispering here, can you tell?*

You guys.  I'm here like a prisoner in my own house right now.  I just have this feeling that I'm being watched, but I don't know where the watcher is.  It's giving me the heebie jeebies.

I keep turning in different directions to look, but at the same time, I'm hoping to not see anything.  I'm watching my every step.  Every little peep of noise makes me jump.  It's hell I tellya!

It started this morning.  Or last night.  I don't know.

The cat was out all night.  It's just what he needs to do, I suppose.  He's got to go out and sow his predatory oats.  And that's fine, the gophers and mice will make more.

So this morning, when I got up, I looked and found him in the backyard.  Certainly after another night of carnage, he was ready to return to the civilized life.

I flicked on the light.
He turned from his crouched position and saw me.
It was his crouched position he assumes when he toys with a mouse before playing with it to death.
But he turned and saw me and decided to end the playtime and come on in.

or so I believed...

He came on in and headed downstairs.  I went down a minute or so later

to find him playing with a much uninvited guest.  The freaking mouse.  He brought the darn thing in with him!  It was still alive.  They're playing Tom and Jerry in mah house!

Oh feck.

I know what you're thinking.  It's my fault.  I'm the one who opened that door all widely and welcoming!  I'm the enabler!  To that I say:

It was dark!
I wasn't wearing my glasses!
Napolion's face (I've since realized) is the exact color of mouse!  Or vice versa!

So here we are.  I figured Napolion would play with that mouse until the mouse had no more play left in him - the usual shenanigans.  I didn't care to watch it, knowing I'd be responsible for corpse removal.  So I cowardly left the room, and returned later.

There's no corpse.  No trace at all.  No juicy gut pile.  No discarded tail.  Nothing.  It's a mystery.

Did Mouse survive?  Is he watching me as I type?  Waiting to exact revenge? If not, where is the body?!?  If so, where is the body?!?  If the mouse is dead, will he haunt our house forever??

There's only one who holds the answer.  And he's not talking.






At least it's a mouse and not one of those monstrous gophers.

But still...

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Thursday, October 10, 2013

who's moving it?!

It was dark.  We really had little choice of it, since there was no electricity.

We lit a candle.  I don't remember where it came from.

We didn't have any furniture yet, just a few boxes.

There was a bag.  A paper sack.  We ripped it into individual pieces.

On each piece, we wrote a letter of the alphabet.  Two more pieces for "yes" and "no".

We arranged the letters in a circle on the bare countertop.





Then there was this cheapo piece of metal, like a disposable ashtray or something.  We bent it to fit our needs.

I don't remember the questions.  

The answers, though, were getting creepy.

Then "we" started to spell something.

Midway, Guano blew all the bits of paper sack, scattering them off and around the countertop.

We all shook our hands about, as if we'd just seen a...

SH*T!  Turn on the lights!....  CRAP!!



I'm losing it with Mama Kat again this week.

2.) Spooky! Tell us about your encounter with a Ouija board!

...not that I believe any of that Ouija stuff... heh....

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

for the holidays!

---------------------------The following is based on actual events--------------------------


It was the summer of my 15th year.  I was young, adventurous, stupid,  innocent...

There was a new family in town.  The father worked at the college where my dad also worked.   They had a daughter and had invited me over.

I remember now that my dad had misgivings about them.  He thought the man strange for some reason.  Said he didn't quite blend in with the rest of the faculty.  But my mom blew that off as to them just being new in town and not knowing many people yet.  After all, ours was a small and sometimes odd town.

Her dad arrived in a red Jeep to pick me up.  He was quiet, maybe a little nervous, the whole time driving.  Was he already anticipating what would come to pass?

We arrived at her house where she and I were introduced.  She seemed nice enough.  Longish blonde hair and a friendly face.  Outgoing even.  Rather mature for her age.  I looked forward to hanging out with her, we seemed easy friends right away.

We goofed around in her backyard with the family dog.  While doing so, her parents let us know that they were going out for a little while.  No problem, we'd hang out at the house.

It was starting to get dark, so we went inside with the dog and settled down to play a card game on the floor.  I vividly remember sitting cross-legged on the floor of her living room, she was sitting opposite from me.  Our game was progressing in a typical manner one minute, but the next, things got...  weird.

She stopped playing and just sat their, still, with a faraway look in her eyes.  She'd straightened up and was looking in my direction, but not at me.  She was looking at something behind me.  And that's when she said it.  When she said those five words that still haunt me to this day.  She said.... she said... she.... said.... she.... she... said.... said... (okay already!)... she said,

"Can you see the demons?"

Wha...?

I slowly turned my head back towards the direction she was looking.  Beyond the living room was the darkened kitchen.  Just the kitchen.  I remember a bowl of grapes on the counter.  No demons.

"No", I replied.  Then, stupidly, "Can you?"

"Yes", she said.  "They're in the kitchen.  On the ceiling."

SH*T!!

I slowly turned to look again, this time at the ceiling.  No demons.  But wait.  Why was the dog being so quiet?

I decided to just change the subject and asked if she wanted to play a different game.  She said no.  She wanted to show me some of her books.  Sounded good to me - not a demon in her reply!

She went to her bedroom to get the books while I cleaned up our game.  I heard her rummaging around down the hall, then, in what seemed a split second, she was standing over me.  Where the frack had she come from?!

I looked up from my position on the floor to see her just staring down at me.  Her longish blonde hair draping her blank face.  I also noticed that she had changed into a gown in record time.  I didn't speak.

I was ready to go home then.  I wanted her parents to come home!  I wanted the dog to not be so quiet!  I wanted my mommy!

There's no one here to help you! We walked for 15 hours today, we ended up in the same place! There's no one here to help you, THAT'S your motivation! THAT'S YOUR MOTIVATION! *

Okay, I wasn't really thinking that at the time.  The line just popped into my head just now...

ANYWAY, I was wondering, how long had I been there?  Shouldn't her folks be back?  Why WAS the dog so freaking QUIET?!

Another look towards the kitchen from hell.  No demons.  Not that I could see anyway.  Just those grapes, LAUGHING at me!

And then...

Jeep headlights through the front window.  A car was pulling into the garage.  Parents home, oh thank you GOD!

Her parents entered the house, gingerly.  As if they were expecting... expecting... what?

I breathed a big inward sigh of relief, rose up and put the card game on the table.  My friend, now shorter than I, remained where she was, looking at her parents.  Was she disappointed they'd returned?

We said our good-byes.  She asked me if I might come to play again.

"Yeah, sure", I lied.

I never saw her again.  The family didn't stay.  They moved shortly after that night.

http://itsybitsysteps.com/
baby-arthur-cleaver-recreates-movie-scenes/
I've often wondered about her.  We're both all grown up now.  She'd be in her thirties, since she was just 3 years old at the time.

Freakiest babysitting job I ever took.



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*Blair Witch Project, 1999
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Monday, March 12, 2012

in the beginning

Approach the track.  Step onto it and feel the surface beneath the racing shoes.  I can't be still.  I unconsciously shift my weight from foot to foot.  I shake my hands and arms out.  Shake them again.  It's taking forever to line up. 

Finally the official takes her position, shouts "on your MARK!" ,*tick* tick* tick* my heart is pounding.  She raises the gunless hand *TICK *TICK *TICK... my heart is ready to jump out of my chest.   *BANG!*

I'm breathing hard even though the race just started, the adrenaline is almost too much.  I'm still so jittery.  Eventually, I'll relax... eventually...


I ran track in high school and starts always made me nervous.  I was a sprinter, so my races were all finished in a minute or less.  I loved the relays though.  I always got the anchor position on our team since (a) starts made me nervous, and (b) I was the fastest of the sprinters. 

My good friend Debbie always ran the start position because (a) she couldn't stand waiting for the baton to get to her, and (b) she was second fastest of the sprinters.

My other good friend Carolyn (of cow-tipping fail fame) always ran second or third position because (a) she was a strong and methodical sprinter, and (b) she was third fastest.

The final position was... was... whomever.  We only had three sprinters on our track team, and there were no 3-legged relays.  Sometimes Sherri the distance runner would jog up and hand me the baton.  Other times it was Anita the big shot-putter or similar. 

This always made for some interesting fun - especially for me because, unless something really strange occurred during the race, it was guaranteed that at least ONE girl would be ahead of me by the time I got the baton.  There was very little pressure on me, and having someone ahead gave me something to chase like the fake bunny at the dog track!

By the halfway mark, it's a comfortable lead, but I haven't settled down yet.  Is it too much speed?  The race is still young.

Bell lap and the lead has grown even more.  It's hardly even a race anymore, yet I'm still a bit of a wreck.

The final sixty yards and my nerves have transformed to a bit of befuddlement.  I feel like I can finally relax.

"Is he just running really fast or is everyone else really slow?", I say to Magnum.

Wolfgang crosses the finish line first, nearly a hundred yards ahead of the next guy. 

His first track meet of the season was on Saturday.  There were two heats for the boys' 1600 meters, and he was assigned to the slower one.  He ended up 5th place overall.

He was happy with his race, but wishes he would have had someone to push him.  Maybe he would have broken 5 minutes.  As for me, I agree that he was in the wrong heat this time, but I don't know if my jitters can take a close race. 

They're actually worse now that I'm a mom spectator!
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Friday, August 20, 2010

atmosphere

Wow, Friday already! Illustration Friday to be exact. This week's prompt is "atmosphere".

Several years ago, I worked at a polyurethane plant. One of my job duties was that of "Safety Coordinator". Sounds impressive, no? Actually, I think it was assigned to me because no one else wanted to do it.

Anyways, I just had to keep track of all the safety stuff in compliance with OSHA regulations. In a polyurethane plant, that could be relatively extensive and tedious. This position also required that I provide necessary safety training to all new employees, including temporary workers.

This place had a tendency to use a lot of temporary workers. And they were usually used to do things that weren't pleasant. In a polyurethane plant, that could be relatively extensive and hazardous.

I recall two such temps. They showed up one morning bright eyed and bushy tailed - NOT! I took the two of them into a meeting room and went through all of the terrible things they would likely encounter while earning their day-laborer wage. I then showed them how to properly use a respirator (gas mask really, but "respirator" sounds more friendly). They signed all of the necessary paperwork, in compliance with OSHA, and I sent them on their way.

The morning breaktime arrived. They left and were never seen again.

My coworkers joked about how I had sent them running away in fear. I say, it wasn't MY fault. It was just the atmosphere of that place.
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Thursday, July 9, 2009

mornings in the bush

I was out for a lovely run this morning. Out while the sun came up as the cool morning air caressed the skin. Much better than those dark mornings of winter that try to freeze the face off and form ice on the eyelashes - although there is some sick fun in that too.

So there I was, loping along on a dirt trail through some undeveloped land. This area was discovered to be a habitat to the precious jumping preble mouse, and there is ongoing debate as to whether these rodents... er... precious jumping preble mice are endangered or not. In the meantime, no development is allowed there.

I don't have any particular affinity for the preble mouse, but I am grateful for the debate they've stirred up as it keeps my stretch of running boonies in its state of boonyness.

So as I'm basking, I hear some thrashing about in the foliage to my left. There are other trails in this preble mouseville, and I had seem some runners/dog walkers bobbing about.

I look to my left and see a couple of dogs... no wait... these are HUGE dogs... no wait... these are two big DEER! Two deer trotting single file towards me, headed for the road on my right.

So I slow up as to let them have the right-of-way. I wasn't too worried about them crossing the road as there wasn't much traffic out yet, and visibility was ample enough for drivers to plainly see the deer.

I let them cross in front of me. They made it across the east bound lanes without incident and were in the median ready to cross the west bound lanes when some traffic went whizzing by. This caused the deer in front to, thankfully, stop its forward progress but caused the deer behind to, not so thankfully, bolt.

Bolt and do a 180 back toward the direction from whence it came. Bolt and do a 180 right back to me, standing there like the proverbial deer in the headlights. How ironic is that?!?

And I swear, it was looking me right in the eye the whole time, and speaking to me. This is what it said. "Get out of my freakin' way! I'm a crazed deer, and I WILL take you DOWN!" And this was not Bambi. It didn't look a thing like Bambi. This deer was huge. A lot of steaks and sausage there.

Okay, captivating bonding moment with nature was then OVER! I quickly became a runner once again. Not in my usual relaxed stride, but more in resemblence to Captain Jack Sparrow when he was running away from the cannibals.

By the time I looked back, the deer were no longer in sight. I was secure in the knowledge that neither had ended up as roadkill, and thankful that I hadn't ended up a big trampled salt-lick.

Those preble mice. They know how to party.
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Tuesday, September 30, 2008

moving my cheese and other stuff

Something's screwy.

It was a Monday like any other. I was going about some business - the usual Monday morning errand cycle. First stop was the post office. I was inside readying my package when I decided to check our P.O. box since I'm there. Except... I can't find my keys *dread music*.

What the...? I know I have them, I'd just used them to lock my bicycle. I start digging around my backpack, pockets, lifting stuff up, looking all around, all to no avail. Lastly, I decide to go back outside to check. There they are in the crotch, or whatever it's called, of my bicycle. I'm relieved to have found them, but still razzem frazzeming about them being misplaced in the first place.

Next I go to mail the stuff. I'm paying with my credit card, but WAIT! The postal person asks for my ID, and my driver's licence is gone *more dread music* What the...? I keep it in the same pocket of my wallet that I keep my credit card, for just such occassions, and it's just. not. there. I pay with the debit card instead, but I'm perplexed. Need to find that driver's license.

I dig through my backpack, maybe it somehow fell out of the walllet. Nothing. I dig through the other pockets in my wallet. AHA! There it is, in a different slot! I'm relieved to have found it, but still razzem frazzeming about it being misplaced in the first place.

I'm starting to get a bit of the heebie jeebies at this point, but nothing too serious. I approach my bicycle to head out onto the next destination. I'd had my hair in a ponytail when I'd ridden over and I go to tie it back up again, but WAIT! My ponytail holder is gone *"No, not the ponytail holder!" music*. What the...? I'd slid it off and put it in my front pocket like I've done a bazillion times before.

Again, it's the digging through the backpack, the pockets, lifting stuff up, looking all around. Nothing. Okay, now THIS is starting to get annoying. For lack of another plan, I retrace my steps into and around the post office. There's my ponytail holder. Lying on the ground between the entrance and the P.O. boxes. Razzem Frazzem!

After that, my day progressed without much incident of note. Clearly, the trouble lies within the post office. This. The same post office that I was singing the praises of not too long ago. Well NO
MORE! It shall now be known henceforth as...
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The Poltergeist Office...
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