I Can’t Touch Cotton Balls – A Confession
It’s been a while since I’ve introduced you to a new D.J. confession. In the past I talked about how I used to wear tight jeans, and how I pretended I was in bands when I wasn’t, and how I poop when I talk on the phone. But that’s nothing compared to this confession.
Ever since I can remember, touching a cotton ball freaks me out more than anything else.
Pure. Terror.
Let me put this in perspective. When I was nineteen I worked as a security guard in a Jewish retirement home. I had a badge. It was totally lame, and I just sat around reading books and drinking from the water-cooler. I sat behind a desk, and pretended to look tough.
That summer I watched a beautiful woman my age who did the cleaning with her grandparents every day. I never had the courage to ask her out.
I did, however, have the courage to find three dead bodies. Well, not courage, exactly. I just ended up finding three dead bodies. Old people die sometimes.
These were elderlies who kicked off in their apartments. And you know what? While a little sad, the idea of seeing a dead person (this was my first experience) wasn’t such a big deal. I don’t remember freaking out at all. Even the smell didn’t bother me.
But the idea of touching a cotton ball, then and today, sends me into a inner mental frenzy. I’d just as soon never touch one for the rest of my life.
Now, I’m not a total spaz. You wouldn’t notice that if you put a cotton ball in my palm I start screaming on the inside. I play it cool. Inside I’m exploding like a tween at a Justin Bieber mall sighting. But not in the good way, like exploding with excitement. Like in the bad way, where I need to run away so far that I’m sure it won’t roll in my direction and stalk me.
So, here’s the deal. If you place one in my palm, I can deal. If you ask me to pick one out of a bag of them, I’d really rather not do that. I suppose I could, but I would try to find any excuse in the world to get you to do it for me. If one fell to the ground and you asked me to pick it up, I would not. You are pushing me too far. Stop now.
Then, if you asked me to squeeze one with my fingers, I would sprint away at full speed, sweating like a bastard. Because to squeeze a cotton ball between my fingers would be fucking CRAZY. I’m all worked up just writing that. No lie.
Every time I get a new vitamin bottle with the cotton at the top, it’s pure agony to remove it. I’ve tried using two knives to grab it like a chopstick so my fingers don’t actually touch it, but I can still sort of feel the texture that way. No good.
Sometimes I just press the cotton to the bottom with a pen cap (which also is awful because of the pressure) and try to jimmy the meds out around the cotton.
This is my personal Vietnam.
Can you imagine how awful it would be for me if I were a woman? Using a cotton ball to remove makeup? No way, Jose! Also, tampons? Forget that. I’d be a proud panty-liner patron.
To be clear, snakes don’t bother me. I can speak before a thousand people and not break a sweat. Fingernails across a chalkboard? It’s like a symphony to my ears. I could chew on tinfoil and love every bite.
But cotton balls – man, that’s just not cool. Not cool.
Think I’m alone? Well, I’m not!
Now, if you watch this, you’re going to think it’s fake. But I know better. It ain’t fake. I know this woman. And to a much less embarrassing extent, I AM this woman.
So, if you ever want to see me in the fetal position, build a wall of cotton around me. Sure I could just run through it to escape, but I totally wouldn’t. I’d just stay in the circle until someone rescued me. And I’m pretty sure I’d have my eyes closed the whole time.
Ooh, now I’m thinking of stepping on it. That’s freaking me out. End of post.
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Wow, I never expected anyone else to be struck with this same affliction! When I was a kid my mom thought it was hilarious to chase me through the house with them. (Made her pay for the the therapy) I can't wear certain clothes and would always have my boyfriends take the cotton out of the bottles for me and they just thoght it was a bit odd. The weird thing is that something like nails on a chalk board does not bother me in the least. Amazing there is another one out there.
And your Twitter marketing must be working since I went from who is this joker> might as well look at his site> fuuuuu I just wasted an hr and a half. :)
FDB Yes, see, it's okay for you to be freaked out by cotton balls. You're a broad.
My latest conversation: New Post: 6 Days Since Cat Pee - http://is.gd/hg9o4Z
I have the same aversion to cotton balls. I've never been able to describe it to others though, because there isn't a good analogy. The best analogy I've come up with is the sound of fingernails scratching on a chalkboard - except I get that feeling every time I touch cotton balls.
Ryan, we should meet and start a support group. A super lame support group.
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This is absolutely hysterical. I got a mental image of someone being stalked by a cotton ball and almost spit coffee all over my desk. I'm sad (?) to say I don't have any weird annoyances/phobias like this. Nails on a chalkboard is just fine. Oh you know what, a kid. Hearing some snot nosed brat screaming his face off makes me internally scream in agony.
Hey, but what about REAL cotton -- like have you ever felt cotton in a field on the plant still? It's sooooo silky & suuuuper soft & SO doesn't have the same squish factor as regular poofy cotton balls. Just throwing that out there as a back-up plan, you know, in case you ever wanted to drive south & steal some off some poor farmer's land & all.
What about those square cotton pad thingies? Or sometimes they're circular? They're really thin, stacked like 2,000,000 high in a little plastic tube-looking thing. Those weird you out?
You DO have issues. No doubt about it. And balls the size of cantaloupes for being willing to admit it. :)
Gwennie My gigantic testicles are a wonder to see. Remind me to do a post with photos. You'll pass out.
My latest conversation: Guess Who Took A Bath?
My husband has a similar 'freakish' reaction when his bellybutton is touched - or even approached. Why my hand would ever go in there? Not sure - I cannot recall why I discovered that weird thing about him... On another note, we love cotton balls around here - and Q-tips even more. How do those affect you?
Q-tips are a breeze. Bellybutton touching is not preferred, but I don't freak out. I ain't no sissy.
My latest conversation: Guess Who Took A Bath?
My sister is the same way. She can't stand cotton balls. It's the texture.
For me, clowns are Satan's minions and I will cry like a little girl if I see one.
BrookieCookie Clowns are not scary in the least. You should check into an aslyum and undergo psychotropic medication treatment. Glad to hear your sister is normal like me.
My latest conversation: Another Embarrassing Story About Food
delfinparis Clowns CAN chase you, unlike a cotton ball. SCARY!
BrookieCookie Clowns are just shitty actors that never killed at an audition. Not dangerous. Sad, but not dangerous.
My latest conversation: Another Embarrassing Story About Food
The Spouse (mine) is skeeved out by cotton balls too. Threatening to pull one apart is the surest way to get him to 1) take out the garbage, 2) hand over the remote, or 3) stop being gross. (number three only works to an extent...)
Personally, two pieces of wood or cardboard rubbing together makes me ill. They're just so DRY! Even the thought of it makes me want to douse myself in lotion. I'm pretty sure my weird thing is weirder than your weird thing.
Great, now I need some Jergens.
WhitneyLeeCondie I KNEW I wasn't alone. I'm going to start a group called "Cotton Freak Us Out - Boycott" - and it will be, your husband, and one other guy I know.
1) Pretty sure my sister got married just so she would never have to handle cotton ball related experiences again.
2) Maury's an ass.
3) Snakes know when all my male relatives are out of town then gather in my garage. Bastards. I even have recurring dreams where they bite me over and over. It's not the venom that bothers me, it's the fangs. And they ALL have fangs, don't let them fool you. All the wild ones, anyway. Domesticated snakes are fine.
jennapooh1971 I'm beginning to think this website is a call to arms for neurotic people.
Yet I find myself drawn here ...
jennapooh1971 Seriously, I'm so relieved to find out I'm not the only cotton ball phobic out there. Snakes don't bother me because I'm not a gigantic pussy.
I thought my husband was the only one who couldn't stand cotton balls! He uses a fork when I'm not around to remove them from the bottles. And if the bottle isn't large enough for a fork, he just cuts off the bottom and pours the pills into another bottle.
manapan Your husband is a great man. We're brothers in arms. Tell him we can unite!
I hate when people write on a chalk board! I wanna rip my ears off.
Try massaging your hands first, with deep pressure, especially the tips of your fingers. That should help....I work with sensory stuff!
atvelasquez3 I will! I'm going to go find a cotton ball and report back. Thanks!
I can't say I relate, but my older sister told me I was terrified of cotton as a child and I would cry at the mere sight of it.. Though I am "terrified" of dots and specks, they reek of being germs, or maggots.
circustoybox I can't be the only one with the cotton thing. We need to stand up and unite! Or not. Whatever.
You have some serious freakin' problems.
Rubbing cotton balls together sends chills down the back of my teeth! Something about their texture and the friction makes my skin crawl, much like the way nails on a chalk board effects some people (that doesn't bother me at all). Guess you and I can cross off that tour of Atlanta Cotton Gins we had scheduled for your next visit.
Jessica_thereader I think our meeting is kismet. We both have a chihuahua and a cat. We both are tall. Both freak out at cotton. Let's get hitched.
delfinparis Jessica_thereader and we both love soup...
I can't stand sand... People talk about the joy they feel when sand goes between their toes... I can't bear it. When I was a kid I would scream bloody murder walking through it at the lake and what not. It felt like torture. Hot and dry dirt! It even smells weird.
MandyLang Okay, I checked online and fear of sand equates to "totally f*cking nuts" - sorry.
delfinparis MandyLang Ha! Like I didn't already know I was nuts. :)
how bout trying tweezers to get the cotton out of the vitamin bottles?
AdrienneAudrey The problem with tweezers is I can still feel the squishiness of the cotton between them. But I do use it occasionally - it helps a bit.
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My son who is 21 years old has always had a loathing of paper towels. It is the texture for him. You can really skeeve him by getting him to sort of rub one. It is pretty funny to onlookers.
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