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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Speaking of "Ronsters"
Mood:  silly
Topic: About me
I was just over at Blogliners and found this question. I thought I'd just take a moment to write about my Ronsters from my childhood.

Let's talk monsters... were you scared of a bogeyman under the bed? Did a vampire lurk in your closet? What scared you as a child and maybe still does?

When I was a kid I could not just walk past my parents' bedroom if it was dark. In my mind, and people you know I'm a fairly rational, intelligent person, there was a vampire in there. If I merely walked past the darkened bedroom door, he would jump out and get me. If I could speed walk or even run, I would be safe. Nothing I can remember ever happened to make me think there was an undead, blood-sucking dude in my parents' bedroom, but for some reason I did.

When I was about 5 or 6, I think I was in Kindergarten, my mom had her gall bladder taken out. Back then it was major surgery, not just an in and out thing like now. Her best friend, my JoJo, watched me while Mom was in the hospital. I think our Nana had Sis, since she was barely a toddler. Well, JoJo and her husband were farmers and kept weird hours. It was nothing to eat dinner at 9 or 10pm at their house due to being in the field, a piece of machinery breaking down or some other farm disaster. One night while I was there, JoJo had to be outside for an extended period of time helping her husband. She left her teenaged son, Michael, in charge of me. I was sitting at the table, eating dinner, minding my own five-year-old business and for some mean-spirited reason, Mike started telling me about his pet monster, Herkamer, (How the hell DO you spell that anyway? Hercamer, Herkemer...whatever) and how Hercamer liked to eat little girls who didn't eat all their dinner. As far as I can remember, I wasn't NOT eating my dinner, I think he was just mean and wanted to scare the living shit out of me. He succeeded. I went to bed that night and lay there wide-eyed in fear, just sensing that the dreaded Hercamer was just beyond the wall and that he had an enormous drill that could bore through the wall, allowing him to snatch me up and then devour me, because I was told this was what he did. A few weeks later, after Mom was home and things were normal, I had to go to JoJo's again and I bawled my freaking head off. There was NO WAY I wanted to go back to Hercamer's lair! I ended up staying because Mom busted my butt. That night I told her I didn't want to stay there ever again because Mike told me about his pet monster. Now, you know that my mother HAD to have been biting the insides of her cheeks to not bust out laughing at my story, but she was sympathetic and said she'd take care of it. She told JoJo, I'm sure thinking that she would get onto Mike about scaring the innocent, gullible little neighbor girl. Now, JoJo and I were pretty tight back then, still are today, but man, she totally turned on me regarding the girl-eating monster that her son owned! The next time I had to go up there, she waited till my mom was gone and then proceded to get all kinds of up in my business and tell me that I was a sensible little girl and what was I THINKING, believing that Mike had a monster and she could not BELIEVE that I fell for that! Oh man, was I embarrassed, hurt and MAD! I didn't talk to that asshole, Mike, for a long time. He didn't care. I was five - he was 13. He was probably happy I wasn't bugging him.

Now, as an adult I cannot sleep with a closet door open. Nor can I walk over a drainage grate or manhole cover. Stephen King ruined that shit for me forever.

The Diva has spoken at 6:57 PM CST

Saturday, January 15, 2005 - 11:05 PM CST

Name: Tiff- your BFF
Home Page: http://typhaniee.tripod.com/tiff

Again I say, and you made fun of me for being scared of the Coleman. Atleast there was a reason for me to be scared, at least I could see and hear things there.
Mucho love

Sunday, January 16, 2005 - 11:25 AM CST

Name: redneck-diva

I was a child, Tiff! A mere CHILD!!!!

And as far as sleeping with the closet doors shut still yet... well, when you start readin Stephen King at the age of 13, it just does bad bad things to you, I'm tellin' ya.

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