o-b-s-e-s-s-e-d

I'm not one of those people that slows down when they pass a car wreck on the road but I do understand the voyeurism involved. I suffer from it myself but I chose to do my watching from the comfort of my sofa. Mine takes a different form though; I'm a big INTERVENTION watcher from way back. If you haven't seen the show it follows people with drug and alcohol addictions, documenting a week in their lives culminating in a surprise intervention at the end of each episode. I realize some people might think you would have to be sick to watch something like this ... I'm fine with that label. Once in a while when I catch a marathon on A&E I think I, myself, might need an intervention from "intervention."

Even better - A&E came out with a new show this season called obsessed; and yes, I am obsessed with it. (Those people at A&E are so clever with their show names) Since the first episode a few weeks ago I have been wanting to blog about the show but I just don't even know where to start - it's that good. If you haven't been watching it yet then I suggest you get your ass over to hulu and catch up!

In obsessed A&E documents the lives of people with anxiety disorders and their journey through 12-weeks of therapy. Have I mentioned that I suffer from an anxiety disorder myself? You may have picked up on it back in my iatrotelephobia post but I'll make it official. About two years ago I was diagnosed with Panic Disorder and Acute Agoraphobia. Luckily with the help of a few months of therapy and a lifetime of drugs I am coping well with my disease. And let me just say on a serious note folks - mental disorders are no laughing matter. But enough about me - these people are NUTS!

I don't want to ruin it for those of you that have it saved up on your DVR's or anything but seriously - there was a lady that was so afraid to be "dirty" that she took a two hour long shower after every bowel movement. And she didn't joke around here - she had tools! I don't want to gross anyone out but I'll just say there was an enema and a toothbrush involved ... and I loved every crazy second of it!!

I'm sorry have we just turned a corner in our relationship? If you are too disturbed to ever readthebee again I understand ... but you will be missed.

For those of you still left - HOW CRAZY IS THAT BITCH??!?! Admit it - you're gonna start watching aren't you?

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Iatro-tele-phobia

Iatrophobia is the fear of doctors, or of going to the doctors. I definetly do not have this fear. Infact, I pretty much have a frequent-flyer card at each of my many doctors' offices. As far as I can tell there is no offical name for a fear of television, so for the sake of this discussion I'm going to call it ... telephobia. Not very creative but it gets right to the point; I dont mess around when I'm coming up with innovative scientific terms of the future - this is a 'no fluff zone'. However, I must say again, I definitely do not have a fear of television.

So get to the point right?

Okay, what I do have is a fear of doctors on television. Am I alone here? It's not that I'm going to cry if someone turns on "Grey's Anatomy" or black out if I accidentally flip past an episode of "Scrubs" while I'm looking for The Weather Channel (that one was for you Will). But if I watch too many episodes of something like "House," which is unfortunately one of my favorite shows, I will most likely have horrible nightmares and unavoidable panic attacks about how the bruise on my toe must be gangrene and I'll need an amputation - STAT!

Please tell me I'm not the only person that suffers from Iatro-tele-phobia.
Where are my peeps?



"You know what happens when you make a speculation - you make a spec out of you and ... some guy named lation."
~Gregory House

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Have you had your shots?

I just wanted to share with you - the scariest thing I've had to do in a very long time...

This season marks the second spring that my husband and I have spent in our new house. Last year we didn't pay too much attention to the front and back gardens for a few reasons.

1) We had just dropped a disgusting amount of money on buying the house and needed to save up again for awhile before taking on any big, unnecessary projects.

2) The gardens were still holding up pretty well from the previous owners (an older retired couple with enough time on their hands to make themselves a pretty sweet set-up including two apple trees, a rose bush, some vegetables and more flowers & bushes than any human could ever need)

3) We're way to lazy to do anything as constructive as gardening.

4) Did I mention we're seriously lazy?


So in our first 12 months living here the biggest change we made was a lovely garden gnome - which we placed in the front to greet all our new neighbors! Of course, the gnome isn't even ours; it belongs to our roommate (thanks Dawn!) but still. The problem now is that after a year and a half of not tending to all the lovelies that the previous owner left .... our yard had become a jungle. I'm not exaggerating here folks; it was scary to walk from our back door to our gate. I'm pretty sure there would be at least a dozen shots you would want to get before even stepping out the door. There were very few brave souls willing to take the risk and I was not one of those people.

I'll post some pictures later but to make a long story short - I pulled out the necessary tools from our shed: rake, shovel, hedge clippers etc. and prepared to attack! But when I picked up the gardening gloves that had been sitting in the dark, cold shed all winter ... I froze. Let me explain exactly how the thoughts in my head evolved:

Do I really want to stick my fingers in these things? What kind of ooey gooey thing might have crawled up one of the fingers and made itself a home? A bee? A Wasp? A beetle? A spider?? Surely there is a Brown-Recluse just waiting for my juicey finger to come creeping up inside. And then what? My husband is at Home Depot (God only knows how long that trip might take) so I'm going to get bitten by a Brown F'ing Recluse and no one is going to know! And what's worse ... once he does get home, who knows how long it might be before he finds my dead body lost in the jungle that is now our backyard!!

Now... I could have just cut the hedges without gloves - but seriously - these hands are far too delicate for that jazz. I'd rather risk the deadly spider bite than get a blister. But it took me a solid four-minutes of internal struggle to come to that conclusion. Who knew gardening was so dangerous?

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