Tag, You're It

I was tagged on SML's blog a couple of weeks ago, and think I have finally come up with some stuff about me which border on weird.

• I have very vivid dreams. The kind where you fall from a sky scraper, land on the ground, lay there aching wondering if you're going to die, and then wake up unable to move for 5 minutes. The kind where you fight a dragon and physically feel every strike from its stinging, scorpion-like tail (I had this dream a lot for about 10 years). The kind where you strangle your spouse at night because you think a box spring is going to fall on top of you both, pushing you and the three cats out of the house and instantly killing everyone. I have since realized that stress makes me more likely to act out (sleepwalking, and, um, sleepchoking) during my dreams and Gluby has learned to live with fear while sleeping.
  

• I don't know if I have ever admitted this to Gluby or not, but I, like Floating in the Milk, like the smell of cigarettes. Not only that, but I can differentiate between four distinct scents when it comes to cigarettes. I have no idea whether it has to do with the brand, or plant variety, or processing, or what. I have been tempted several times to ask people what kind of cigarette they are smoking and see if I can eventually start to guess the brand just by the smell. I have high aspirations, as you can see.
  

• SML's mentioning her fear of ocean water reminded me of my water fear. I don't mind swimming in the shark infested waters off of Hawaii; just don't make me swim in murky, fish infested lake waters. Now that is scary. Every time I swam at Lucky Peak Reservoir in Idaho I seriously thought something was going to bite me. I knew there had to be a small shark lurking in the water where no one could see him and that he was going to bite me.
  

• When I married Gluby I was afraid his three cats would get more attention than I would in our marriage. Yes, I will say it. I was jealous of his cats. (He is quite affectionate of them.) So I told him that I didn't want them sleeping in the same bed with us, but I didn't tell him I was jealous of them. When I finally realized that they would not take my place I consented to their presence on our bed. Now we can't seem to get them off of it. They are present no matter what we do on the bed.
  

• I went to massage therapy school 10 years ago. I was even an LMT (licensed massage therapist) in Utah and worked at a couple of places. I hated doing it for money, but loved helping people feel better. When Gluby found out I went to massage school he was really excited. Unfortunately, he has only ever received one full body massage in almost 7 years of marriage. Gluby is the one who massages my back, or feet, or head. Poor Gluby!
  

• As some of you know, Gluby was in the Marines. There is a certain “motivated bark” that Marines do, which Gluby has perfected. I absolutely love to hear his Marine bark -- especially since I can't do it; I sound like a macho yippie dog. I go through phases where I ask him to bark all the time. He has even taught our oldest son how to do it just for me. I just love it!
  

Ok, I know that those last two entries aren't all that weird, so I'll tell you one weird thing about me and Gluby.

We often sing together as if we are in a musical. Gluby and I were in the BSU LDS Institute choir together for almost a year, and while we were dating we loved doing musical things together. So, ever since, we constantly improvise music, sometimes absent-mindedly. At times, it can get quite obnoxious. For example, he was reading about China and then began singing Handel's Messiah, but instead of “Hallelujah” he sang “Mao Zedong.” Over. And over. And over. I still hear it sometimes today, seven years later, though he's usually finding other things to set the music to (most recently, “Fiddley Gomme” since the unusual name of Pete's blog has gotten stuck in his head). But WORST of all, he was picking on me about my supposed fastidiousness and penchant for spreadsheets one day and began singing “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music, except he was singing, “Anal wife, anal wife, clean the kitchen forever.” Obnoxious. I answered, “Lazy husband, lazy husband, get your butt out of the bed.” This kind of stuff is constantly going on.