Conquer a Fear

*deep breath*

Ok, you guys. It's a big day in the life of Ms. Lindsey. Today I officially sealed the deal to conquer one of my biggest fears.

For those of you who have known me for a long time (or if you happened to read the last installment of this silly little blog), you may know of the long and ridiculous saga that is my fear of mascots. It's not so much a fear as it is a phobia, actually. Intensely illogical with no basis or reasoning, I will run away crying if one waddles anywhere within a 20 ft radius of me. And if I am not crying I am plotting to have it destroyed, usually by fire, so I can enjoy myself at the game or parade or amusement park. You should see me at Crown Center around Christmas or Easter; I am a complete mess.

I have tried to riddle it out in my mind, to pinpoint the exact moment the fear kicked in and I became doomed to a life of perpetually avoiding sporting events and where Disney Land will forever represent the innermost circle of hell and damnation. To this day, I haven't been able to really figure it out.

Well, no. Maybe I have. My high school mascot? A freaking 6ft naked baby. I shit you not, we were the Hickman Kewpies. Yes, that is right, the Kewpies. You know, the cute and seemingly bashful figurines of nude children taking a moment to pose and cover their probably non-existent privates? Yeah, our football team had a bit of a challenge coming off anywhere near intimidating, as you may have already guessed. Perhaps I encountered the demon baby giant mascot way before I was developmentally ready to process it, and now anything resembling him/her/it sends me into a tizzy of sexually ambiguous flashbacks and terror-filled confusion. *shrug* Who knows. The point is that they terrify me, and I have arranged to conquer them once and for all.

How exactly am I going to do this, you may ask? Well, through some pretty awesome familial connections, I have arranged to participate in next Saturday's Royals game as none other than Slugger, the mutated lion mascot who faithfully cheers on my city's baseball team year after year (despite a seemingly terminal tumor growing on his forehead that happens to resemble a fuzz-covered crown. I mean, really, what the hell is that?). Just got off the phone with the powers that be, and they're going to actually let me go through with my ridiculous request to bumble around idiotically in Slugger's costume at the game! That's right, people, this girl is gonna be INSIDE the beast responsible for all of her childhood (and adult) nightmares, waddling around The K, pretending to care about baseball and building my character one inning at a time. On Saturday, April 9th at 4:00pm, I'll be walking around, kissing babies, creating a whole new generation of mascot-fearing children.

Am I excited? Kind of, actually. I'm more nervous about the possibility of tumbling down the bleachers and breaking a bone than I am about being in costume. I figure since I don't have to look at myself, perhaps the fear won't kick in? God, I hope so. If not, you may see clips on ESPN of the psychotic mascot, rocking itself into comfort in the corner of the outfield, mumbling manically about naked babies and satanic Mickey Mice. Good lord, that would be embarrassing, no?

Anyhoo, that is how I am accomplishing this particular Before-I'm-12. Please take out your calendars and mark this as the day Lindsey grew some balls and decided to get over her fears. If you're at the game on Saturday, be sure to come by and whisper words of encouragement softly in my giant felt ears. Or just bring me a beer; that may actually be more useful. If you're not at the game, please be thinking happy thoughts! I can use all of the encouragement you can possibly muster.

Who knows, if all goes well, maybe one day I can walk through the gates of Disney Land without a whimper.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

-Atticus