our fears define us. or not.

Sorry, I missed my day and don't have a lot of time right now to post either, since I'm at work. But I like this topic, and I'll throw my hat into the ring.

Most of my fears don't affect my daily life, and the ones that do I've learned to live with. Except spiders. Several weekends ago I started crying when my boyfriend wanted me to help him kill the biggest, ugliest, most gut-filled, killer spider in the history of humankind and spiderkind. it took him, a broom, a bucket, and a pile of junk mail to get the job done while I stayed frozen in place near the door, too afraid to go out to help him and too afraid to leave him out there alone. Horrible.

I don't think my fears are very unique, but here are some in no particular order:

--Spiders
--Death
--Eating bugs
--George W. Bush
--People who crawl out of the TV to get me (like in Ringu)
--Sometimes, my TV
--Stray bullets
--A certain type of face: white, male, around 40 years old, prematurely aged from drugs/drink/homelessness, lined and quite hopeless
--Fake sugar
--Male doctors
--Religious zealots from any religion
--Failure
--Powerful governments
--Vampires
--Bombs
--Hopelessness and despair
--Foie Gras
--Mel Gibson's most recent avatar
--Death of people I love
--Home invaders
--Mediocrity
--People who won’t say what they mean
--Terrorists (in the pure sense of the word)

When they torture me in Guantanamo, I hope they use the foie gras.