Creepy Kids

I mentioned creepy kids in my Spiders post, and I felt the need to expand on this topic.  So, I decided to make an entire post dedicated to creepy kids.

I have seen my fair share of movies in my lifetime... and with those movies comes an equally fair share of creepy kids.  Movie makers love creepy kids.  Of course, they throw them in already creepy movies, but something about a creepy kid really gives me a special kind of the heebie-jeebies.  I have seen so many creepy kids in movies that I have actually looked up what makes these kids so creepy.  The consensus seems to be that kids seem creepy when they are not child-like.  When they act older than their years.  When they are quiet, introverted, intelligent.  When they are intuitive and perceptive.  When they have an even temper, to the point of not reacting to external stimuli in a normal way.  Basically, when a kid acts like a stoic adult, they instantly become creepy.  Add said creepy kid to an already creepy movie, and presto:  that's a recipe for major heebie-jeebies.  The heebie-jeebies are obviously different from actual fear; they are a distinct feeling caused by only a handful of things - creepy kids being one of them.  Another heebie-jeebies inducer that I can think of right off the top of my head is people who look like pedophiles.  You know who I mean...

Back to the task at hand.  Creepy kids.  I have decided to post a collection of my all-time creepiest kids, or at least the ones that first come to mind, in no particular order.  I apologize in advance for the immense permeation of this blog entry with the word "creepy".

1.  Aidan from The Ring.  This movie was creepy enough without ever introducing the "horror" aspects thanks solely to the creepy Aidan.  In one of the movies, there was a scene with him wearing a little suit... and I have found that the creepy factor of children is instantly increased by wearing a suit.

2.  Heck, Somara from The Ring (even when she was "normal").  Sure, she was evil, which added to the creepiness.  But, those big blank eyes that look like they are staring into your soul (and probably were)... definitely more than a bit unsettling.

3.  Morgan from Signs.  I can't recall what particularly made this kid creepy, but he instantly popped into my head when I thought of creepy kids.  So, he must have been creepy.

4.  Damien from The Omen.  Ignore the fact that this child was supposedly the Devil incarnate.  Look at his little hat and suit - creepy!  Remember what I said about suits?  Even when he wasn't working his evil satanic mojo, he was totally creepy.  He kind of reminds me of the little puppet from the Saw movies, like he should be riding a tricycle, laughing maniacally.  Hmm, maybe I should make creepy kid movies...

5.  Every kid in Village of the Damned.  I never saw the original, so I can't comment on those kids, who I'm sure were maybe even creepier.  These children were pure evil, and they have placed a permanent stigma on white-blond children with blue eyes.  I will forever associate such children with this creepy movie.

6.  Sharon/Alessa from Silent Hill.  This movie really disturbed me.  I watched it alone, which was a mistake when I am so easily scared.  Add in having a creepy child, and I had real troubles sleeping after this one.  Look how creepy she is!  She could be Somara's sister...

7.  Cole from The Sixth Sense.  "I see dead people."  Enough said.  Creepy kid with creepy morose abilities.   And, it looks like he has on a suit.  Triple threat.

8.  David from A.I. (Obviously, casting directors recognized an overwhelming creepiness in Haley Joel Osment.  He was even creepy in Forrest Gump...)  A robotic child automatically encompasses all the things I mentioned that make children creepy.  Too bad he wasn't evil... that would have put him in the running for creepiest of all time.

There are many, many more... but I just listed the ones that came to mind.  I'm open to nominations...

Wii Fit: The Game I Love to Hate.

Wii Fit is the most depressing game ever invented.  I was in a bad mood when I got home from work, and I just wanted to do something that would relax me and make me feel better.  I was too zonked to make the trip to the gym, so I decided to drag out the old Wii Fit for a little light exercise.  I turned it on, and it said that it had been 105 days since I last used it.  It then quipped, "But don't worry, I would never forget your name... Steve!"  Ha.  You are sooo funny little Wii Fit Board... acting like you, a program, don't remember my name.  Such positive reinforcement!

"Feel bad about yourself!  Fatty!"

Then, I did my little fitness test, and it gave me all of the balance games that I suck at!  My Wii Fit age?  The number 33 hit with a wah-wah of blatant disappointment and a thud like a ton of bricks.  Then my mii got all sad and hunched over like it had been destroyed by the number on the screen.  Wii Fit then proceeded to tell me that 33 is 7 years older than my real age, and it flashed a big 7 on the screen.  At this point, I'm fairly convinced the Wii Fit is designed solely to make you feel like crap.  Wow, what a great strategy!  I totally want to buy another one of these games!

Then, the best part of the fitness test... the weigh-in!  Duh duh DUH!  I weighed in, and my BMI flashed on the screen.  Normal!  Woo hoo!  Something to be excited about.  It told me I've lost 5 pounds since the last time I weighed in.  Great!  Keep it coming!  Next, it talked about the goal I had set a few months ago to reach a certain BMI in a set amount of time.  Well, that time was up, and it asked "Did you meet your goal?"  More wah-wah-ing.  "Oh!  You didn't meet your goal!"  Thank you for the reminder!  It then said something along the lines of "Maybe you should try a more attainable goal next time..." and suggested a new goal that I lose 12 more pounds.  Eff you Wii Fit!  You lose 12 pounds!

At this point, I began shouting obscenities at the Wii Fit and making self-deprecating comments about how I fail at everything...even the Wii Fit tells me I'm a failure.  How I have no goals in life and never meet any of the goals I do set.  On and on, yelling at the Wii Fit and wallowing in a sea of failure.  (Granted, this was due to me already being in a bad mood because I failed to meet goals at work...).  I then punched the little "OK" stamp on the date to show my progress... though I think the Wii Fit would have an issue with calling my efforts "progress."  "Participation," perhaps.  Like those lame ribbons that the losers got in grade school.

I decided, I'm going to kick the Wii Fit's butt.  I'll show Wii Fit who's boss!  So, I queued up 20 exercises in a row to do.  It made a snarky comment about how that's a lot to do and I needed to make sure I didn't push myself too hard.  Talk about mixed messages.  First, I suck, then I'm trying too hard?  I told it I would push myself as hard as I wanted to!  I then began my exercises.  I was wobbly on a few and it yelled at me.  I did one new exercise, and at the end, it "suggested" that maybe I should practice new exercises before adding them to my routine... though maybe it had a point because Steve had to hold me up so I didn't fall over while trying it....   Chalk up another point for Wii Fit, Supreme Overlord of Negative Reinforcement.  When it was done being a jerk, the little piggy bank put all my minutes in and turned gold because I had completed 10 hours... and it got all excited and jumped around and played a jingle.  Well, Mr. Piggy Bank, at least someone appreciates my efforts!  I say you stage a coup to overthrow the Supreme Overlord!

Now, after my encounter with the heartless Wii Fit, I am left in a quandary.  Do I start using the Wii Fit more regularly so it is nicer to me?  Or do I stuff it back in the closet and avoid its negativity?  Either way, I feel like it is winning!  Those clever Japanese...

Irrational Fear of the Week: Ledges

Thinking about my irrational fears, I can't help but notice a theme.  It seems that I have very specific fears.  Maybe everyone else has specific fears but only generalizes them for ease of discussion or relation.  This week's fear is as specific as "water creatures":  ledges.

Note that I do not say I am afraid of heights, though the term "ledges" may appear to connote that association.  That's because I'm not afraid of "height" in itself.  It's not like the higher I get, the more afraid I become.  I have no problems with airplanes... in fact, I love flying.  I have no problem with ferris wheels, tall buildings, enclosed balconies.  It is not how high I am that frightens me.  It's more the ease with which that height can result in my injury or death.  Thus, the fear of ledges.

You can easily fall off of a ledge, even with a railing of some sort... and injury is likely even at very low heights.  Planes?  Hard to fall out of... and rarely crash.  Tall buildings?  Not scary unless it's a balcony with minimal/flimsy railing.  Ferris wheels, roller coasters, and other such things do not bother me unless it is very easy for you to fall out.

I have one roller coaster that I've ever been afraid of in my life, and I refuse to ride it again.  Most roller coasters, you feel pretty secure.  They are either tame, lap-belt roller coasters that you would have to try to jump out of... or they are the overhead harness that usually hydraulically latches into place and has a "backup" manual safety belt, too.  Basically, I usually feel pretty secure on most rides.  However, I went on the Superman ride at Six Flags in Chicago... and I almost had a panic attack.  It was horrible!  I seriously thanked God I was still alive after it was over, and I refused to ride it again.  For those of you who have never ridden this particular ride, let me elaborate.  You get on this roller coaster, and you sit in one of those hanging-down seats like on many roller coasters.  The little hydraulic overhead harness comes down and "latches" into place with some kind of magnetic bolts or something.  No manual "backup" belt to be found.  That, alone, would merely shake me a bit.  But, then your seats get pulled back and lifted up, so you are lying on your stomach and "flying" through the air like Superman.  So, if for some reason, your harness malfunctioned, you would simply drop flat on your face out of the ride... no stationary seat is beneath you.  As you can imagine, for the entire duration of the ride, I had a death grip on my harness, had my eyes closed, and was basically hyperventilating.  I'm not sure if my death grip was strong enough to keep me from falling if my harness had malfunctioned, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances.  Now, this isn't a "ledge" obviously, but it has all the characteristics of a ledge that frightens me... so I think it's the same concept.

When I went to the Grand Canyon, I thought it was beautiful and amazing.  Until I stepped to the railing of the viewing area.  The railing is situated about a foot in from the ledge of the canyon, and it's about a mile drop down to the bottom.  That's a definite "dead" situation if you fall... probably even an "unrecognizable" dead.  Not to mention the fact that you would be falling for what would seem like hours, terrified and screaming.  To make matters worse, the park ranger tells us that at least one tourist a year falls in and dies!  No worries about me getting too close!  Since the time I visited, they have installed a "skywalk" at the Grand Canyon that extends out over the canyon:

Oh, and it has a glass floor (well, I guess it's not actually "glass" but it's transparent).  Trying to think of how much money you would have to pay me, or what you would have to threaten me with, to get me to go out there...

So, I think the logic behind my fear of ledges can be summarized as follows:

Basically, the easier something is to fall off of, the more afraid I become.  Also, the longer I would theoretically spend falling and being terrified or hurt before hitting the ground, the more afraid I become.  I think it's the perceived level of fear associated with falling off of a ledge that heightens its "scary" factor.  If I don't think a ledge is very easy to fall off of, but I then fall off of it and die quickly, that wouldn't be that scary of a death (I wouldn't have anticipated the fall, and would not have been scared for long before hitting the ground).  However, if I think a ledge is very easy to fall off of, and I fall for a long time before dying... that would be a majorly scary death because of the amount of anticipation and fear associated.   So, the more terrifying the fall/death would be, the more apprehensive I am about the ledge.  Makes sense to me!

Like my fear of water creatures, my fear of ledges is an adult-manifested fear.  As a kid, I laughed at my mom when she was scared that I would fall off of things, and I would lean over and act like I was going to fall.  I think that as the possibility of death became more real to me, the more phobias I developed.  When you are 8, you aren't thinking that a roller coaster could kill you, you are thinking it's fun and exciting.  The Grand Canyon looks cool, and you want to climb up on the railing to have a closer look.  You aren't thinking that you could plummet to your drawn-out, painful, and terrifying death.  And, once you realize that very real possibility, no matter how small it is, you can't help but think of that and only that.

It is incredibly difficult for me to appreciate the adventure of rappelling, the excitement of the Grand Canyon skyway, or the beauty of a hot balloon ride.  All I can think is death.  I know the odds that any of these situations would result in my death is incredibly slim... and it is irrational to think I would be the .001%.  That is why this is my irrational fear of the week.

I don't feel old very often...

I don't feel old very often... but every once in a while something happens that just makes me feel really old.  I know, objectively, I am not old.  I am almost 27.  I'm young in the grand scheme of things.  But, I have my moments.

The other day, I was on my way to my grandmother's wake at the funeral home.  I knew that another person was going to be laid out at the same funeral home at the same time... and their last name was Smith* (*changed to preserve anonymity).  I am from a very small town, and I was trying to think of all the Smiths I knew, trying to figure out whose grandmother this Smith might be.  I named off about 5 different Smiths that I went to school with.

When I got to the funeral home, I started seeing the different members of the Smith family.  I saw 4 out of the 5 Smiths I knew... and Josh was the one who was not there.  But, I saw that Josh's sister was there.  So, my natural curiosity had me on the lookout for Josh all evening.  I had known him since 6th grade, and I had a few classes with him, even though he was a year older.  I hadn't seen him since he graduated high school, so I was interested to see what he looked like.

Hours passed, and I never saw Josh.  However, a few times during the evening I did see a guy that looked very familiar to me, but I couldn't place him.  I didn't want to stare at him, naturally, but I just could not figure out who he was.  The second he left the funeral home, I realized that it had been Josh!  I had seen him multiple times that evening but did not recognize him.  Now, I have seen other people from school that I haven't recognized or couldn't place... but it was usually because I barely knew them or they had gained/lost a lot of weight.  Josh looked almost exactly the same when I thought about it, just maybe a little more filled out than in high school.  And, Josh was someone I had classes with and talked to pretty regularly.

When I was younger, I always remember being amazed when my mom didn't recognize a high school classmate... because it was hard for me to believe that I could ever forget someone I went to school with.  I was in school with the same people almost my entire life, and each grade only had about 150 kids.  I knew everyone.  There was no way I'd forget someone...

Yeah, well... I did!  I felt so old when I realized I hadn't recognized someone I had gone to school with for years.  It had been 10 years since I saw Josh.  And, when I realized that... I felt even older.

I usually feel younger than I am, like nothing has changed since I was 16.  I'm still a kid in my mind.  So, it's a little jarring when I am reminded how much time has passed since then.  My mom tells me she still feels the same as when she was in high school, and I laugh.  But, maybe she's right.  Maybe I will always feel 16, and it will be incredibly depressing every time I don't recognize a high school classmate... or even totally forget they exist, which has never actually happened to me.

No wonder people try all kinds of crazy stuff to stay feeling or looking young... feeling old is terrible!  No offense, old people, but I'd like to stay feeling young as long as I can.  I have plenty of time to feel old.  No more of this "feeling old", please.

We All Have Our "Chainsaws"

Last night, my husband and I were watching Family Feud.  If you have watched the show, you know that some people are really bad at this game.  Every time it comes to their turn, they give some random wacky answer that you know is not going to be on the board, and the team gets a big X.  Well, last night's episode had one of the worst players I have ever seen.  He was a young guy, probably about 20, and he got a big X for every answer he gave.  In an incredibly puzzling move, the family decided to send this kid to the "fast money" round.  One of the questions in the fast money round was "Name something that people cut their fingers on."  Without missing a beat, the kid replied "A chainsaw!"  His reply sent a rush of laughter over both my husband and me, and we were laughing to the point of almost crying.  Who cuts their finger on a chainsaw?  More like you cut a leg off with a chainsaw!  It was probably the most ridiculously funny "legitimate" answer he could have given.  When the host was going through the answers at the end, he got to that question, then the kid's answer appeared on the board as "Chainsaws"... and seeing the plural made me laugh even harder.  But, then... the kicker!  He got TWO POINTS for the answer "chainsaws"!  Two other people had said "chainsaws" when asked to name something a person cuts their finger on.  That was just too much for me to take, and at this point I was literally rolling on the floor laughing and thought I might die of asphyxiation.

I was simply amazed by the fact that three separate people could give the same ridiculous answer to a question.  I was sure that no one else would give that answer, but obviously, I give my fellow man too much credit.  :)  I guess the odds are, if one person thinks of it, there is probably at least one other person whose brain goes to that same place.  With all the people in the world, I'm sure it is incredibly difficult to think of something completely unique and original.  Looking at it that way, nothing is quite as weird as you think.  Your weird is always another person's normal, and probably more than one person's normal, at that.

All of my life, I have been a "thinker."  When I was a child, I used to lie in bed in the morning and just think.  I would try to imagine the shape of the universe.  Was it a box?  A sphere?  If it was a finite shape, what was beyond that shape?  How did infinite space exist?  How did things begin to exist?  If they were always there, how was that possible?  Was there a beginning of time?  If so, what was before that?  If the universe wasn't here, what else would be here?  Is my life real?  Would I even know if it wasn't?  Does it matter?  On and on and on.  Yes, I may have been a big genius nerd as a child.  I actually thought about these things from a pretty young age.  I always said I could never go into a theoretical field of study because I am just too "curious" to ever be satisfied with any answer.  I was such a curious child that I would often try to hold my breath just to see if I eventually would die from suffocation.  I wasn't suicidal, I just "wanted to see" if that's what would happen.  Obviously, it didn't.  Curiosity satisfied!

When I would think all of these things, I was sure that no one else had ever thought about them before.  As a child, you are only aware of the known.  No one had ever talked to me about the shape of the universe or the concept of infinity.  I did not know that these were things that had been studied at length for probably hundreds of years.  To me, these were totally random and unique thoughts.  Looking back, I now know that every thing I ever wondered about was something that other people wondered about, as well.  Maybe the vast majority of people do not sit and think about the shape of the universe, and maybe they don't wonder if you can die from holding your breath.  But, some people do.

Is it comforting to know we are not alone in our thoughts?  Or does it make us feel a sense of loss of individuality?  Of course, there is no one else in the world exactly like you... but a part of us is in each other.  Our similarities are what make us the human race and what connect and sustain us.  Truly unique thoughts may be extremely rare, but luckily, a person is not a single thought.  We are all unique combinations of those less-than-unique thoughts.  Singular constructs of common elements.

Our weird is what makes us normal.  And, remember, we're never quite as weird as we may think.  We all have our "chainsaws"...

Baby Factory

I have come to the conclusion that I am a baby factory.  I have zero babies, but somehow everyone seems to think I have reached that "golden age" of incubation potential.  I am almost 27, mind you... not exactly the old maid I sometimes feel that I must be.  I got married at 22, and people have always occasionally asked when we were having kids... but lately, it's like a barrage of baby interrogation.

At Easter, my aunt and cousin both told me they want me to start having kids because they want a baby in the family.  Ah, the curse of being the oldest grandchild.  I told them if they want to pay my daycare bills, I will gladly birth a baby this exact moment.  Yeah... didn't think so.

On the phone the other day, my mother told me that she wishes I would have had a baby young so she could be a young grandmother.  She's 54.  She is not going to be an "old" grandma unless I wait 10 more years to have kids (which I won't).  She also often tells me that she's "ready" for grandchildren.  Sorry, mom, but I'm your only hope... so you will be a grandma when I'm ready.

The best encounter was this weekend when I went to a neighbor's wedding.  My friend's 7 year old daughter came up to me, and the first thing she says is:  "Are you pregnant?"  I replied, "Do I look pregnant?"  She stared at my belly, deep in thought, and finally said "Well, you look kind of like Mom did when she was first pregnant, before she got big."  (Translation:  I look completely normal and could not even pass for 3 months pregnant.)  I assured her that I was not pregnant and even invited her to feel my belly to see if anything was in there.  She put her hands on it... and after feeling nothing... sighed and said "Ohhhh, maaaan.  When are you going to be pregnant!?"  I told her it would be at least another year.  "A year!??!"  To a 7 year old, a year is a loooong time.  I told her maybe she will be old enough to babysit when I have a baby.  A deep frown creased her face and she crossed her arms.

The constant questioning about my gestational status has left me with the conclusion that, at some magical age, a woman becomes a baby factory.  At that point in her life, she is expected to start pumping out those babies.  I knew the time would come that people would start asking about babies... just as a single woman expects to be asked about when she is getting married.  I just didn't think it would be so soon!  I thought maybe 30 would be the magic number.  I'm not yet 27.  I blame the early timing of the onslaught on the fact that I grew up in rural middle America.  In the country, people get married young and have children young.  In my hometown, a lot of people my age and younger have had multiple kids already.  This puts the extra pressure on.  Everyone sees these other people having children, and the expectations start getting directed toward me!

Funny that no one ever asks the men when they are having children.  Sure, some people will occasionally ask my husband when we are planning on having children.  But, they never ask him if he's pregnant... they never request babies from him.  I am solely in charge of getting this baby going.  Men are not baby factories.  They play an undetermined supporting role of some kind.  Like, a foreman in the factory, perhaps.

In our case, my baby factory's foreman is holding up production.  He is in grad school right now, and so I am generating our only income.  One income means no baby in our book.  It's hard for some to imagine, but I would like to actually be prepared for and be able to afford a baby.  I'm not just going to have a baby because I happen to want one.  I am not sure what money people expect me to use for daycare, or if they expect me to quit my job, but this important small detail does not stand in the way in their minds.  Yes, I understand that tons of families have children when they can't afford them, and they make it somehow.  But, I would rather not struggle if I don't have to.  Call me spoiled.

Once the hubby graduates next year and we have steady health insurance and two incomes for the first time in our 5-year marriage... I would love to talk to everyone about all the babies I'm having.  Until then, the foreman is laid off, and this baby factory will remain closed.

image via zazzle.com