Fear...

See? I'm not the only one who thinks this could happen!! 





What? Don't judge me. 


And so, it's no secret - my greatest fear - is statues. Not regular old statues - but large ones. Anything bigger than me terrifies me. I can't explain it, but it's been a crippling fear of mine since I was a child. I'll never forget trips to South of The Border - Mom making us take pictures underneath Pedro - the giant Mexican fellow who's the main attraction of the joint. I'd cry and cringe every time we had to go near him. And the giant ape on top of the souvenir store. 

Ugh. Gross!!


Somehow, all our family trips require us to go near statues of some sort - and my family finds such pleasure in taunting me with this fact. Washington DC - the Lincoln Memorial. Giant horses, angels - Lincoln!! I kept my head down for most of the drive - and each time I decided to lift my head, I was greeted with at least one monument - shrieked - and put my head back down. Great. 

 Imagine this at sundown. Horrifying. 


A family favorite - is Ocean Breeze in Virginia Beach. My family loves tormenting me when we head there. I avoid all attractions on the west side of the park - because any water ride you get on in that area gives you a head on look at their giant gorilla mascot. I did a mat ride there one year, and scraped my elbows trying to scramble backwards up the slide. Cut my knee and my big toe trying to swim out of the wade pool before I even reached the bottom of the slide. Nearly lost my lunch. 

And yes. He glows in the dark. Blech!! 


Now, I could go on for days about this - but I'm here for a reason. My friends, cousins and I recently went to South Beach for Calle Ocho weekend. On our drive home that evening, I requested that my best friend, Shorty - give me a detour around this giant hand statue in the area. Each time I drive over there, I somehow manage to accidentally encounter this statue. Of course, I made a wrong turn - and ended up directly across the street from it. I then ended up looking at it as we were stopped at the red light, and consequently opening the car door to hurl. As soon as the light turned green - I mashed on the gas and sped off - terrified to even glance in my rear view mirror, out of fear that it would be there. The entire car erupted in laughter as I frantically wiped my tears so we wouldn't crash.


 This was the final straw.


I have decided that I need to take initiative and get over this fear. It's ridiculous - and It will definitely keep me from exploring the world. How will I ever visit Rome? Brazil! France? There are statues everywhere. I start with baby steps, though. This past weekend in Miami, Shorty forced me to stand in front of a large Jesus at a local cathedral. I cried, I broke into a sweat, I protested - but I did it. I looked at him for a cool minute - before I turned around and ran down the stairs. I swore he was gonna come behind me. No one laughed at me. Passersby did stare, though. Humiliation is a great intervention. 


Next, I will attempt to visit this wooden Indian head by Fort Lauderdale Beach. I cover my eyes as I walk past him each time. Even back home in NY, my nine year-old sister knows the deal. As we walk through Bryant Park, she holds my hand as I close my eyes and walk past Benjamin Franklin - or whoever it is - cuz I never keep my eyes open long enough to read it. After that - the Blues Brothers at the Swap Shop. I'm on a mission. My goal is to visit the Statue of Liberty again - without throwing up over the side of the boat. I don't want to cry on the way up the stairs, I want to actually look out the window and see the ocean. I will. 


Now - this Miami Holocaust Memorial - I'm not so sure about. Let me give you a visual. 


Ugh. I just gagged as the pictures popped up. Jesus help me. 

I - can't do this. One more picture should suffice. 

Different angles make the hand look like it moves. I just don't know if I can stomach this. Okay. Man up. One more will be fine. Ugh. One. 

Crazy thing is, I was trying so hard to keep my cool at that stop light. Then CousinJan says, "You know, it's not the hand that's so bad. It's the people coming out of it that make it crazy." Me: "There's people coming ::barf:: out of it?? Nooo!" ((Punch on gas pedal)) I was out of there. 


I have to do this. I can't imagine having children and not being brave enough to take them to certain places. I fear Disney - I loathe Universal Studios. What grown adult do you know that does this?? 


Won't be me next year. I promise. 


And no. I'm not scrolling back up to proofread this post. I think I have done enough for today. That is all.