Diversions

Maybe FDR was right about that unreasoning, unjustified terror

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I’m afraid an airplane will crash into my house.

I’m afraid I’ll look out the window at night and see someone staring back at me.

I’m afraid a sinkhole will open under my feet.

I’m afraid a snake will slither over my foot while I’m driving.

And those are just my irrational fears. Which let’s be honest aren’t really all even out of the realm of possibility. Is there any such thing as an irrational fear? Airplanes crash into houses. Creeps are everywhere. A sinkhole opened in a parking lot across the street from my house last month. My mother-in-law found a snake in her car a few years ago. These things happen.

But what are the chances they’ll happen to me, and why do I spend so much time worrying about them? Sometimes I think I’m taking a Bob Wiley approach to life: “If I fake it, then I don’t have it.” That’s not healthy. I know that. But I can’t stop myself. I think it comes from reading too much John Irving in my formative years.

(Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be paranoid. Don’t let ’em read Irving, Dean Koontz or Stephen King. Make ’em read Austen and Alcott and such.)
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That one time when Emily Henderson picked on me

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My friend Robin went to the BlogHer conference in New York last weekend, so when I saw that my favorite HGTV babe was going to be there, too, I asked Robin to go cuddle with her for me.

I was kind of joking, but Robin is the least inhibited and most fearless person I know. So of course she found Emily Henderson and chatted her up. And then this shows up in my Twitter stream:

Thank you, Emily Henderson, for the tweet. I’ve never been taunted by a celebrity before. It’s a strange and thrilling feeling.

And thank you, Robin, for spooning with a stranger for me. Your next assignments are:

  • give Ryan Reynolds a firm handshake.
  • touch Ryan Lochte’s bicep.
  • ride a bicycle with Ryan Gosling.
  • pick Ryan Seacrest up and swing him around a little. (See 0:49.)

    Go For It, Robin. And have a super fab birthday today, OK?

    (I’d bet $5 that she makes at least one of those things happen in the next 12 months.)

    • blessings

    I wanted this to be sappier, but my Sap-O-Matic 3000 is on the fritz

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    It feels like there hasn’t been a time when I didn’t know Rockford.

    That’s not exactly accurate, but I have known him for most of my life. We met when we were in seventh grade, which would’ve made me 11. So that’s two-thirds of my life.

    So we met in seventh grade, and then we had a caustic friendship for a long time. I don’t recommend that as a way to woo your future spouse, but it worked for us. And then one day out of nowhere I realized he’d become my best friend.

    He’s still my best friend.

    Happy birthday, Rockford. I’m so glad to have you around.