Irrational, that is (har har).  Alternative title:  My Army of Stuffies
-----------------

I've always had a number of completely unreasonable and childish fears, some of which I still haven't outgrown entirely.  One of these is that I'm afraid of the dark.  If I'm sleeping alone, I often leave either a desk lamp or a nightlight on --but I absolutely can't leave the bathroom or closet light on, because that would invite the monsters in (no, I know it doesn't make sense). 

The problem is that I have a lot of trouble sleeping with a light on, so I generally try to think of some other solution that won't keep me up all night.  It really doesn't do any good to try and explain rationally that there's nothing to be afraid of.  I know it's irrational; I understand that the things I fear are impossible, but I still can't quite shake them.  So, I come up with equally irrational ways to counter them.

For example, my sleep has always been guarded by stuffed animals.  I've made up an elaborate story of how they protect me, which I know is ridiculous and don't really believe anymore than I believe that there are actually monsters in the shadows.  Nonetheless, it makes me feel better and helps me sleep.

When a monster enters the room, the small ones will first raise the alarm and zerg rush the intruder, providing time for the second line of defense to mobilize.  Sometimes, this is all it takes, and the monster succumbs to the swarm of mini-beanie babies and tiny stuffed animals swinging their keychains like flails.  If this initial defense is not enough, all the middle-sized stuffed animals enter the fray.  Since this includes my pod of stuffed orca whales, who I imagine to be the stuffed animal equivalent of a gang, this is usually enough to overcome the majority of attacks. 

However, if even that fails, I still have my last and strongest guardians, who sleep with me in my bed.  This consists of a stuffed mouse that my mother made for me back in 1st grade, a large teddy bear with fierce yellow eyes, and the 26 inch stuffed seal that Boyfriend gave me for Christmas several years ago.  Nothing can get by them!

The seal and the teddy are the fighters --they're both large and sturdy and I'm positive that they can take on the toughest of monsters.  My mouse, due to being handmade by my mom, is imbued with enormous protective powers, so I imagine her standing in front of my pillow casting defensive shields over everyone.  When the battle is over, everyone hurries back to their posts and I wake up the next morning unaware of anything that happened.

What I love is that Boyfriend humors me instead of getting too weirded out (which would have been perfectly understandable given that I'm 21, not 12).  When I wake up to find that my seal has fallen on the floor, Boyfriend will play along and make up a story about how the seal had leapt to my defense during the night, but the battle had worn him out so much that he couldn't make it back into my bed.  And of course, this fits perfectly into the logic of my existing storyline --I couldn't take my entire army of stuffed animals with me to college, so those three have needed to take over all guardian duties.  So obviously, they'll get more tired!     

I know.  It's entirely ridiculous.  But I thought I'd share anyways.
------------------------

What sort of lives do/did your stuffed animals lead?  Were you ever afraid of the dark, and if so, how did you cope with it? 

A brief introduction to some of our more commonly seen feathered city friends:

This is a pigeon.  A member of the dove family, you'll see it strutting around most major cities with a very distinctive head bobbing gait.  It's a decent sized bird, around a foot long or so from beak to tail.  The coloring, shape, gait, and size are pretty much unmistakable.  

 


These, on the other hand, are sparrows.  Notice how they look NOTHING like the pigeons.  You'll see these hopping around, not walking; they're also much, much smaller (typically around 5 inches or so).



Overheard on campus:

Girl 1:  Awww, look at the little birdie!  What kind of bird is that anyway?
Girl 2:  Maybe it's a baby pigeon?
Me:  *Looks over to see a fully grown sparrow perched on the table*
Me:  *facepalm*

I guess I shouldn't laugh, it's just a matter of what you're interested in.  Goodness knows I would fail miserably if I had to identify cars or designer fashions or celebrities.