Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with horror flicks. I really like to watch them. Really, I wouldn’t turn one down no matter how “B-rated” it may be. Zombie movies are my favorite, but I will watch ANYTHING. In fact, I got started on “horror movies” way earlier than the average pup. I’m not sure whether my mom just didn’t see anything wrong with showing them to me, or if she really didn’t think they would affect me- but I can honestly say I remember watching Poltergeist at 5 years old.

As much as I like them  and I appreciate that my mother didn’t censor them from me, I have a feeling that movies of the horror genre had a greater influence on me than anyone would have guessed. You might even say I have been scarred for life. So in light of it being “National Scary Movie Week” or at least “My House Scary Movie Week ,” I share with you the 5 movies that had the most profound affect on me as a child.

Arachnophobia: I recently re-watched this movie and I have come to the conclusion that I must have been thinking of a different movie. When I watched it way back when, it was definitely, in no way shape or form- a comedy. This movie absolutely terrified me. I remember making my sister come and sit in the bathroom with me while I showered because I was thoroughly convinced that a spider was going to come up the drain and instantly kill me with it’s poisonous venom. I was scared to eat popcorn because of the scene where a spider is in the bottom of the bowl.  And to this day, if I see a spider, no matter what breed- chances are you will see me pull a cartoon and run straight through the door.

Child’s Play: I have to preface this with the fact that my parents were of the belief that I really liked playing with dolls. Every year they would drag me to the local doll show and buy weird creepy used dolls that I had to pretend to enjoy. Truth was, the only “dolls” I ever really loved was a Teddy Bear named Teddy, and my Teddy Ruxpin.  Even before I saw this movie I was convinced that my dolls would come alive when no one was around. I blame this on my viewing of Jim Henson’s “A Christmas Toy” about a kajillion times. (If you haven’t seen this, it was basically an earlier, more primitive version of “The Toy Story.”) I was already very sensitive about my doll’s feelings, and didn’t want any of them to feel more important than the others. So after I caught a viewing of Child’s Play at the ripe old age of 7, I was more scared than ever to piss any of my dolls off. Every night before I snuggled up to Teddy, (the regular stuffed animal not Ruxpin because he was hard) I would walk around my room and kiss each and every doll goodnight and tell them that I loved them.

There was one doll in particular that frightened me the most. It was nearly life sized and had red unruly hair, very a la’ Chucky. I grew convinced that this particular doll in a one piece swimsuit would be my demise. I paid it extra special attention, even though it really frightened the bejeezus out of me. I started noticing that it was never in the same place that I left it. I finally told my mother and she swore that she would get rid of it for good. She said she burned it. Years later, when I was a Junior in High School I came home to find that swimsuit doll on my day bead. You might say I went a little ballistic. I thought it had come back for the sequel. My family thought it was hilarious.

Image by Echo9er via Flickr

Pet Cemetery: My dad grew up in the house where my grandparent’s still live. He had 3 other siblings, and came from a family that really loved animals. I loved my grandparent’s house because they had woods in their backyard where my cousins and I would frolic and build forts and such. I loved it all, except for one little area, just barely visible from the back room where I had to sleep. Their pet cemetery. Ah hells no. This shit even has gravestones and everything. I never really thought much about it until I saw the movie. Then I would think of practically any excuse not to have to stay over at their house (even though it was my favorite place on earth) and if I did have to stay the night I would ask to sleep with my sister. On the occasions where I had no choice but to sleep in the back room, I would stay up all night, one eye steadily focused  the white grave stone in the distance. I imagined seeing dogs and cats and raccoons rise from the graves to attack me. Those gravestones still scare me to this day.

Image via Wikipedia

Jaws: My mom had an obsession with pretty much everything that could hurt me (vampires, zombies, spiders, boogie men) and sharks were no exception. Jaws was one of her favorite movies, and consequently one of the movies that I watched as a very young child. As if that movie didn’t scar me enough, every summer my family would make a six hour drive to the coast. My mother would spend the entire six hours reading true stories of shark attacks out loud. As a result, I spent the better half of every summer vacation scouting the ocean for sharks. While my cousins would all take their floats out as far as they could go, I would stay knee deep-eyes out.  I am finally to the point where I’m not afraid to go in the water, but you can bet I would be VERY aware of any dorsal-like fins that may appear in my near vicinity (3 square miles, to be exact.)

The Return to Oz: I haven’t seen this in a very long time (because damnit it was scary) but I do remember it quite clearly. I think. Am I even thinking of the right movie? All of Dorothy’s old friends were stoned (in the turned to rock sense, not doing drugs…)

She meets up with a talking reindeer, a weird robot thingy called Tick-Tock, and a man with an empty pumpkin head. If that is not creepy, then I don’t know what is. I was mostly scared of the lady that changed her heads like they were wigs. Even Dorothy played by that scary girl from the Craft, and she is creepy enough by herself. I don’t have much else to say about this movie, but I know it terrified me.  The trailer is below, just in case you are curious.

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As always, stay classy on this wonderfully beautiful Tuesday.

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

Ok people, you know the rules. If you are in any way related to me, have a high opinion of me, get grossed out easily, or most importantly- are of the male variety- it might be a good idea for you to leave now.

Like really…This one is not for ones who are easily grossed out… skiddadle!

Too far? Perhaps.

Yes indeed, kiddos- Today’s topic is…. Yeast Infections!!!

You hear that?

That was the sound of me losing about 300 Facebook friends and all of my followers on Twitter.

Oh well.

(Who am I kidding? Nowhere near that many people read this…)

If you are a woman, and have taken antibiotics or left a swimsuit on too long, you’ve probably had one. I am lucky enough to have only had a few, but my experience with them was bad enough that I have moved them up to #2 on the list of things that I would rather eat 7 boogers to avoid. (and I hate boogers with a passion.) I know there is nobody who enjoys them, (except for maybe a self-hating masochist) but I feel my hate affair with yeast infections is an especially passionate one.

I probably didn’t pay close enough attention in my Human sexuality class, because when I woke up one morning  and felt like a Queen fire ant had decided to settle her colony in the lower region of my body, the possibility that it could be a yeast infection didn’t even cross my mind. Of course I came to the conclusion that most naive girls would… that I had contracted some nasty, horrible, itching disease! I didn’t want to tell any of my friends about it, so I called my mother.

I was only a Junior in college at the time, and I think my parents still preferred to believe that my “true love waits” ring was planted firmly on my finger. This made it exceptionally difficult for me to tell my mother, between sobs, that not only was I a huge slut who had “done more than make out” with a boy, but I had also caught a disease that made me want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. She was surprisingly calm and made an appointment for me to see a doctor.

It only took a few minutes after my doctor checked out my lady bits, before she told me the diagnosis. I prepared my self for the worst.

After she told me, I was quiet for a few seconds as I let it all sink in.

A yeast infection?

A YEAST INFECTION!!!!

I couldn’t even be happy that I wasn’t diseased, because I gave up my parent’s pristine view of myself… for a yeast infection???

Nevertheless, I picked up my medicine, went home and put it in, then spent the next 6 hours lying upside down on the couch with my feet up in the air, in hopes that that would expedite the process.

Since that day, I have vowed to go to great lengths to avoid experiencing the dreaded Y.I again. As I have told you before, I have a teensy bit of an obsession with Web MD. You’d be surprised at all the useful  interesting information out there to prevent Y.I’s .. Plus  it makes me feel better to know I’m being pro-active. I make sure I remove any wet bathing suits as soon as I get out of the water. I even change after a hard work out. I try to eat a diet rich with yogurt and miso soup. I take AZO yeast prevention pills, Pro biotic supplements, and Cranberry pills.

This picture was taken a few weeks ago at a bar. These items were in my purse.

(Yes, I’m aware that I probably shouldn’t follow the home remedies I read on the internet, nor do I need to take so many pills a day… but who am I not to take advice from strangers?)

In case your curious, I have also found some options on the internets for home remedy just in case you do get a case of the “rip out my vajayjay-sies.”

*Honey… You’re supposed to essentially smear it on your netherlands. From what I can tell, it doesn’t do anything but make your legs stick together. But it does smell delicious.

*Vinegar… poured into the bathtub. It doesn’t do a damn thing except make your whole body smell like a foot.

*Yogurt… You’re supposed to put it in there.  I don’t even really like to put yogurt in my mouth all that much.

*Hydrogen Peroxide... I use hydrogen peroxide nightly in my mouth and it kind of bubbles.  hmmm….

*Garlic… Keeping out vampires and yeast infections since 1703. (but you also have to put this shiz up there.)

Whatever you do ladies, no matter how crazy you may feel… Do not, I repeat DO NOT reach for the round brush on your bed side table.

*** I just realized that this was the second TMI that I have posted about devastating events involving my wa-nana where I had to cry to my mamma. Neither my relationship with my mother, nor my relationship with my lady parts are usually so dramatic.

And in other completely unrelated “Too Much Information” news, today when I was taking a shower, I noticed that I have seriously been neglecting mowing my upper thighs. I mean seriously, if I were to show you a picture (I won’t! You’re welcome!)- you would definitely think I were a man right now. It is definitely time for a little upper leg maintenance.