Confession Time

We all have little things we think or do that we inherently know are a little crazy, right? - little secrets that we keep to ourselves at the risk of appearing "off" to others. I think it's totally normal and acceptable. But sometimes it feels good to confess your little idiosyncrasies to others. Who knows? Perhaps someone out there shares a quirky quality? Or maybe they will laugh and point, and shout, "That's crazy!"It's a gamble.

On that note, I have a confession to make.

Well, actually, I have a few weird secrets and since I've decided to confess something at the risk of appearing crazy, I may as well lay them all out there. Why not.

Here it goes:

1) Sometimes when I am alone, I mix together butter, icing sugar, and cocoa in a small bowl. It's called "Kirstie icing." I eat it. Just like that. I can hear you "ewww"ing. Whatevs. I'm not ashamed. Well, obviously I am because I only do it when I'm alone. I wouldn't want to gross out Evan. It actually tastes delightful and makes me incredibly happy. In fact, it makes me a better person. I know it does.

2) Until I was about 12-13 years old, I actually thought that if a male and female were naked in close vicinity, sex would just happen. Like the male parts would just "find" the female parts. Like a magnet. Boom. You have no choice. You are naked and suddenly it happens. I don't know where I became misled. I'm pretty sure my parents and school provided me with the basics. For whatever reason, I was slightly confused.... and terrified of getting naked in change rooms that were within a few meters of a boys change room. Perhaps it is a brilliant teaching method. There was no way I was taking off my clothes anywhere near a boy that might even be thinking of getting naked! Ack! In case you're wondering, I'm got it all sorted out now, thank you very much.

Finally, the point of this blog post:

3) I have this irrational fear that a tidal wave/earthquake/asteroid/major destructive force is going to swallow this beautiful little island that I live on and we will all be sucked into the sea, never to be seen again.

I blame the following disaster flicks: "Armageddon," "The day after tomorrow," and "Deep Impact."

This thought first occurred to me as I saw the island for the first time from the airplane's window on descent. I knew the island was small, but seeing it from 10,000 feet solidified the fact that this island is small, people. Fricken small! It seemed so insignificant from the air. We could have easily flown past it and if I had been struggling to open my bag of crap airline peanuts, I would have completely missed it. An entire country!

I don't suffer from constant anxiety about this "issue." It just occurs to me from time to time. Especially at night when I'm looking out to sea and can't see anything. Nothing. Eerie. I've mentally tried to prepare for the tidal wave/earthquake/asteroid/destructive force by mapping out an escape route, but so far, I've got nothing. Where would I escape to? The highest point on this island is about 60 feet above sea level. That's not so high. And wouldn't all 60,000 people on this island be headed to that same location? Ugh. The bottom line is, the risk of tidal wave (so I've been told) is very low and an asteroid could hit anywhere, I suppose. In addition, there is no evidence that we're under attack by unidentified flying objects (they only attack major American cities like LA and NY anyways - so says Hollywood). My fear is totally irrational.

See - terrifying, right?

Now this is ominous. Disaster is imminent. 

So after almost 3 months on the island I thought that I had conquered this irrational fear and could live in peace in paradise. Not so much.

On Thursday, I was driving out to my schools on the north side and east end of the island. The East End is the furthest distance from where I live - approximately 22 miles away. This drive typically takes me about an hour in the morning with rush hour traffic - (there actually is "rush hour" traffic here. For real). I had driven about half the distance only to come to police road block. The police motioned that the road was closed and diverted me to a secondary road. I obediently followed the traffic and quickly came to a standstill. On an unknown "back" road, I sat, unmoving with hundreds of cars for 2 hours. Police cruisers whizzed past us in both directions, and people began turning off their vehicles and walking down the road. Initially I imagined a bad traffic accident, but I couldn't understand why we would all be required to sit and wait for 2 hours. Unmoving. Suddenly it occurred to me. Picturing the scene in all the disaster movies where Manhattaner's angrily get out of their cars in traffic only to be smashed by giant wave/asteroid/UFO, I thought, "Dammit! It's the tidal wave/asteroid/major destructive force. My little Japanese care, EDO Japan, does not pick up any radio signals (why would it, it thinks we are in Tokyo!), so I quickly went to my phone to text Evan: "Go online. Is there something bad happening on this island?" When he didn't reply and it was apparent that none of my texts were being transmitted, I was pretty positive that it was happening. I hate being right.

Finally after 2 hours of preparing for the tidal wave/asteroid/UFO/destructive force to take me down, traffic began to move. I glimpsed out to the ocean only to see calm, turquoise waters - no tidal wave. The sky was clear - no asteroids. No UFO's appeared to be entering our atmosphere. Reaching my destination, 2 hours late, I learned that it was, indeed, a very bad traffic accident that had caused the diversion.

Moral of the story: I need to avoid disaster movies, remain fully clothed in all public places, mix up a bowl of Kirstie icing... and calm the frick down.

This is where I ate lunch that day - Whoa! Scary stuff. 

Evan says, "chill out...ewwww, you eat butter and icing sugar?"