It's Not Anything To Be Ashamed Of
Another meteorological reason I prefer Welly to the island: thunder storms - or the lack thereof.
There must have been thunder storms in Welly, but honest to Goddess, in all my time there, I've never heard a single boom from Thor's Mjollnir.
Maybe there had been this one time I thought I saw lightning, and waited tensely for the earsplitting crack and crash of thunder that I knew would follow; but all I heard was a greatly muffled ... thump - sort of like an egg hitting a sheepskin.
It was so liberating to not live in a high-strung red-alert state every time it pours, to not have to clap your hands over your ears and scrunch into a tight ball every time you detect lightning in the skies (you know you got it bad when you flinch when any sort of lighting device so much as blinks), to not have to jump out of your skin every time you're too slow in clapping your hands over your ears and end up hearing the most malicious-sounding clap of thunder.
It was fucking great to not be so goddamn controlled - and by things over which I have no control whatsoever - sometimes.
Okay, so it was also nice to keep this little skeleton most people find amusing - if not downright laughable - behind the closet door.
Some weeks ago, while I was out with the boys, there was a stupid thunder storm, and obviously I'd have to be completely knocked out to not react like Pavlov's pooches. Jason stared incredulously at my scrunched-up human ball, hands tight over my ears, then sneered, "What are you - eight? You're behaving just like my little sister." (And she is eight.)
So, yes: Welly's so much better.
And, yes, being afraid of thunder (and lightning by default) isn't something I should be ashamed of, but it's better to not have to deal with taunts and teases.
Of course, it's best to not have to deal with thunder storms at all.
(23:22 SGT)
There must have been thunder storms in Welly, but honest to Goddess, in all my time there, I've never heard a single boom from Thor's Mjollnir.
Maybe there had been this one time I thought I saw lightning, and waited tensely for the earsplitting crack and crash of thunder that I knew would follow; but all I heard was a greatly muffled ... thump - sort of like an egg hitting a sheepskin.
It was so liberating to not live in a high-strung red-alert state every time it pours, to not have to clap your hands over your ears and scrunch into a tight ball every time you detect lightning in the skies (you know you got it bad when you flinch when any sort of lighting device so much as blinks), to not have to jump out of your skin every time you're too slow in clapping your hands over your ears and end up hearing the most malicious-sounding clap of thunder.
It was fucking great to not be so goddamn controlled - and by things over which I have no control whatsoever - sometimes.
Okay, so it was also nice to keep this little skeleton most people find amusing - if not downright laughable - behind the closet door.
Some weeks ago, while I was out with the boys, there was a stupid thunder storm, and obviously I'd have to be completely knocked out to not react like Pavlov's pooches. Jason stared incredulously at my scrunched-up human ball, hands tight over my ears, then sneered, "What are you - eight? You're behaving just like my little sister." (And she is eight.)
So, yes: Welly's so much better.
And, yes, being afraid of thunder (and lightning by default) isn't something I should be ashamed of, but it's better to not have to deal with taunts and teases.
Of course, it's best to not have to deal with thunder storms at all.
(23:22 SGT)
posted by s at 04:22
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