Mysteries of the mind and body—not explained!
August 24, 2006Henry’s formerly rose-colored eyes (now back to their regularly scheduled whiteness) reminded me of this story my brother told many years back, about a friend of a friend who had this disorder wherein if she didn’t take her special medication every few hours, her eyes would pop out of her head. This story is remarkable not just in the fact that he told it, and that I believed it wholly and without the teensiest glimmer-ette of doubt, or that I told it to all kinds of people, none of whom believed me, but that last year I recounted the tale back to my brother, who looked at me like I was criminally insane. What are you talking about? He said. Who? Eyes popping out of what? Why?
I wanted it to be true so bad that I argued with him for a while, but he continued to glare the glare of the angrily sane at me, and I was forced to give it up. So now I’ll never know. Either he made it up or I did, or no one did and I don’t really exist. Or this is a little like when I was eight and told everyone—because I knew with all that was good and pure in my heart—that Olivia Newton-John had once been married to Elton John. Thus the hyphen. Actually this is nothing like the ONJ thing, which I’m still not over because shouldn’t that be true?
Back to the strange maladies: I experience a nightly…experience (fuck it, I’m not checking a thesaurus) that I’m pretty sure is mine and mine alone. Please dissuade me of this notion, or at least explain what’s going on, o you who do not do enough for me already. You know when you’re falling asleep, and suddenly you’re falling but not really falling and you wake up just before your dreaming self hits the dream-ground? I have that, except different! And here’s how different: instead of falling, I’m suddenly overcome by intense nausea. And just as I wake up, lurching out of bed in the hopes of not soiling my sheets, poof, it’s gone.
You’d think this would keep me up the rest of the night—especially because I haven’t thrown up since I was nine and I have a little bitty phobia when it comes to the act. But this pre-sleep faux-vomit been going on for twenty-three years, so by now I’m all casual about it. Puzzled, but casual. And I know it’s been that long because I brought it up in eighth grade health class, right after it first happened, and everyone went ewwww. This was my classmates’ reaction to almost anything I said or did or wore. Or ate.
In their defense, I was partial to deviled ham.
Reader Comments (99)
And I would fire the person who told you to write all your self-criticisms down. I didn't know my MIL found a new profession.
I used to have an antique ring that had a glass eye instead of a stone. I convinced my nephews that I had knocked it out of a guy's head and had it put in the ring. And now they won't stay over at my house anymore...wonder why?
i haven't barfed in like 9 hours.
you are funny. F-U-N-N-Y.
but you would probably feel better if you threw some vodka on that nightly.
i'm just saying...
maybe i shouldn't make stupid comments when i'm a little intoxincated, so um, yeah...
gosh, i can't go anywhere from here can i?
Congratulations on the new writing thing...
-hugs-Dana
What I worry about most, since I don't have an anonymous blog, is how most of my friends who think I'm funny on my blog will think that I'm really unfunny in real life, and then I try to be funny, but I can't, because if I'm funny at all it's only in print.
I believe Jerry Seinfeld got over his phobia by eating a black-and-white bakery cookie. Maybe give that a try!
I think you're a riot, and I'm so glad you're going to get paid for your talent. I'll be first in line for the book. ;)
There ya go... don't you feel better now?
I still believed until recently that my childhood cat, whom my brother became allergic to, had actually gone to live with "a nice lady in the city." Yes, I knew the old "gone to live on a farm" white lie but I thought for some reason my parents were the only ones who really meant it. Sigh.
It usually happens when i am extra stressy. But I am now going to look in to the TMJ thing (which I also have....and is also related to stress!)
um...and I was much older than 8.
Also? I think you will do so great at the ever-evasive-and-super-secret job/writing gig. I think it's awesome...as do I think you are, as well.
Good luck!
When we would drive to St. Louis, once you could see the Arch it would appear to move across the horizon, due, of course, to the road curving. But my dad convinced me that there were midgets on roller skates that moved the Arch back and forth. Whenever we got there they were ALWAYS on coffee break.
Someone told me in the 8th grade that Canada was widely considered to be an island, as the border between it and the US was one big (and wide?) river. It made sense to me - body of land separated from another big body of land by a big body of water? = ISLAND!
I only realized my faux pas when I was called on in 12th grade history class to answer a Canada-related question, and threw an island reference into my answer.
I received many of those glares of the angrily sane, as well as a large does of high-school grade embarrassment.
Alice, if you ever do end up in a situation where your cryptic clues lead to a book you've written that I could buy, or a journal you're contributing to that I could subscribe to...well, I will be one happy girl! Congratulations!!