|Scary Perry, Malaise, and Ducks
||[Oct. 27th, 2009|07:37 am]
First the malaise. Malaise. We all has it. Seriously. I mean, I do a lot of different events, have my fingers in all sorts of unrelated stuff. And I've heard a lot of people talking about how they just aren't excited about Event/Project/Faire/Whatever and questioning their devotion to/involvement with/fondness. |
It's not you. It's the Umwelt. We can blame it on the economy, the wars, the rain, the uncertain time, the hamthrax...it doesn't really matter. It's like a pall hanging over everything.
I'm very fortunate in that, when I get depressed...as soon as I recognize that I'm depressed. Like officially -- instead of just feebly flailing about with tired, crabby, apathetic, burnt out, going to quit everything, crawl in a hole and pull the rock in back over me -- I'm fine. I snap right the hell out of it....okay, I at least crawl out of the pit of despair.
Anyway, this is me seeing if recognizing the problem helps mend it. And just letting you know that it's not all internally generated on your part -- I'm seeing it everywhere, in all sorts of people.
Scary Perry: if you didn't get an invite (see "Malaise" referenced above), please e-mail me or PM me here and I will get you one. Not that you HAVE to be invited to show up, but I can send you the handy dandy sheet that gives you directions, times, etc. If you are refusing aid...just realize that there are now speed cameras on Connecticut Avenue, so when you see the blinking yellow light as you come into town, the speed limit sign with the orange top...either be going 35 mph, or smile for the camera.
For the uninitiated: Scary Perry is our street on Halloween night, 6-9pm, which we close down to traffic, then decorate all of the houses and have several thousand kids/adults show up to trick or treat. It's not a party, per se, but we do have lots of friends who show up to see the street, take a shift handing out candy to trick or treaters, or become a living prop in our sideyard cemetery cocktail party.
And yes, if it rains I will be suicidal. Because it's rain or shine, people. And there's no way everyone's fitting in the house.
I don't even remember how I found out that Anatidaephobia is a fear of being watched by ducks. But I can't stop thinking about it.
Not ducks. Not fear of ducks. I mean, I had a horse that was afraid of ducks and while, okay, ducks, what's so scary there, but whatever, a trauma is a trauma. And he was traumatized by geese, which is close enough, so I get that. Even though I laughed at him.
But being watched by them?
Now, because I am Queen of Foot in Mouth, I am now certain that there is someone reading this RIGHT now who had managed to forget for a few precious seconds that there was a duck watching them and because I am an a-hole, I just reminded them.
So, I'm really, really sorry. (One, two, three, four...)
But seriously, how often do you even RUN into a duck? Honestly? I mean, do you have this fear walking by a duck pond? Or can it hit you in an office building in Manhattan...that you're going to walk into the copier room and there will be a duck in there, keeping an eye on you?
When people yell "Duck", do you get hit right in the face with the flyball? How does something like this get started? You're playing duck, duck, goose in nursery school and suddenly you get hit by a wave of paranoia?
Please, if you suffer from this fear, please don't tell me. Because really, NO ONE wants to see how wide my mean streak is.