I suck. It is only the fifth day of National Blog Posting Month and I am already wanting to quit. Life and work seem to have a way of getting into the way of daily blogging…

I am totally kidding up there.  Blogging should be a supplement to life: a conduit to reflect on life and stuff.  It should not become a substitute for life. Blah blah blah. Oh, who am I kidding?  Blogging now consumes my free thinking hours.  I agonize over what I should blabber about throughout the day.  That is why the whole NaBloPoMo is very stressful for me.  I seem to have a pathological desire to run away when there is something expected of me.  How did I ever finish school?!  More importantly, how did I manage to raise two children?!

Ok.  Phobias.  The real ones.  The irrational fear of something to the extent that you cannot function normally.  I will talk first, and then you join in with yours, ok?

I have a couple of fears that are definitely irrational, but fortunately, neither interferes with my ability to function in a civilized society:

1. Frogs. I kid you not.

Like many ladies, I am not fond of squirmy things such as snakes, worms, earth worms, silk worms, caterpillars.  As a matter of fact, I am dastardly afraid of earth worms and silk worms.  I cannot stare at them for longer than 5 seconds before I am absolutely convinced that I have hives breaking out all over my body.  Silk worms especially bring back traumatic childhood memories:

For some reason, many Chinese schools make it mandatory sometime during grade school for children to raise silk worms and observe them turning into cocoons.  (Hey, it is one of the 5000-year cultural heritage that we get to talk about over and over again.  We will remind you whenver the opportunity presents itself that, WE INVENTED SILK.. ) When it was my class’ turn to keep the silk worms in the classroom, I did not want to go to school for several weeks. One day when the teacher FORCED me to pick one up, I broke down into hysterical screaming. Soon red spots started appearing on my arms and my neck.  Can anyone say “psychosomatic”?

But I digress.  I meant to talk about frogs.  Frogs are something else.

I cannot even look at them in the pictures.  Posters.  On TV.  On the computer monitor.  Nope.  My breath will quicken and my heart beat will start speeding up.

I believe I made my husband swear on his life that he will never never ever threaten me with frogs for any reason.  I wonder whether he has forgotten his oath.  I need to administer a Spanish Inquisition on him as soon as I am done here.

The funny thing is, I actually loved playing with frogs when I was in kindergarten. I remember catching frogs in the rice field bordering the edge of my school (yes, stereotypes aside, there were indeed rice fields behind the kindergarten…) and throwing them at the boys.  One day, we read the book “The Princess and the Frog”.  The long passage where the Princess describes how disgusting the frog is left such an unshakable impression on me that, I believe, I internalized the fear deep inside my psyche.  From that day on, I cannot stand being in the same room with a frog.  Even if it is in captivity.

Wanna guess whether I will go see Disney’s upcoming The Princess and the Frog?

(I am SO grateful I have only boys for this matter. I am not suggesting that boys should not see Princess movies. If I had a daughter, I would really NEED her to watch this DISNEY movie featuring an African American PRINCESS, despite all the controversies already surrounding it, and I would really want to watch it with her; I would have been caught in a bind then since I don’t think I can sit through 90 minutes in the dark with gigantic frogs projected on the screen…  But of course, I digress again…)

2. White Milk. For real.

I cannot bring myself to put my mouth to a glass of white milk.  Everybody told me it tastes like nothing.  At least skim milk does.

“It tastes just like water.”

Uh huh.

The reason why it is categorized as a phobia is because I otherwise have no problem drinking chocolate milk, even the home-made one that does not taste chocolate-y at all (’cause I am too cheap to add a lot of chocolate sauce!)  I can also drink strawberry-flavored milk, apple-flavored milk, fruity-flavored milk.  I just can. not. put that thing to my mouth when it is white.  I don’t know how to explain it.

“Would you drink white milk if someone offered you a million dollars?”  My husband once asked me, out of exasperation.  And I did give it some thoughts.  I even slept on it.

No.  The answer is no.  At least right now when the question is only hypothetical.  Then my answer is a hypothetical no.

Coda: What did I say about google? Google is your friend. Yours. Not mine. On a whim, I googled Frog + Milk. Although I did see entries as interesting as Frog Milkshake, as a fitting conclusion to my rambling, I found something called Amazon Milk Frog. I am attaching a picture of it here for your scientific education because I am generous like that. As for me? I need to go take Benadryl because I am absolutely convinced I have hives breaking out all over my body!

p.s. If Robert Redford ever offers me $1 million dollars to sleep with him?  You bet ya I would.  In a heart beat.  Naturally, I did not offer this extra bit of information to my husband.  He would not be able to trust me again if we ever meet Robert Redford some day…

p.p.s. Is Robert Redford still alive?  And if I have to ask this question, perhaps I should Not be so enthusiastic when he propositions to me…

p.p.p.s.  Whew.  Turns out he is still alive.  And looking darn good…

For a 73-year-old…  Darn.  I wish he had propositioned to me 16 years ago right after he propositioned to Demi Moore…  Too late now, Mr. Redford.  Eat your heart out!

p.p.p.p.s. Dear Mr. Redford, you are fine.  Please still proposition me and the answer is yes.  I only wish that your buddy Mr. Newman were still alive since he was the one I really had the hots for.  The more faithful a man is to his wife, the more desirable he becomes. I hope you have learned this from watching your friend.