I've been fairly tired lately due to a raving bout of insomnia. Oh, sure, you've had sleepless nights. But I've taken to going out for walks to burn off excess energy at 3am in the morning. Several nights in a row. Last night's walk was interrupted by excessive wetness. A walk in the rain at 3am is tantamount to drinking from the septic tank of life and hoping to get lucky. It's like marking my weak immunity system with a giant bulls-eye. So I stayed home. At any rate, I'm sure the Carmen Rasmusen forum will appreciate my dissertation on the difference between webcasting and a podcasting. So when I say I'm having a raving bout of insomnia, unless you've walked the walk of the living dead you cannot even relate. That doesn't make me special, of course. There are others out there who I know can truly relate with me, but I've grown tired of posers blowing off my insomnia and the affect it has on my life because they stayed up 30 minutes past Letterman one night and felt a touch sluggish the next day.
So what does this have to do with vocal tics? Well, after thirteen years of chronic motor tic disorder I am really sick of the vocal tics. Nope. Don't like them at all. Coincidentally, vocal ticking increases during periods of raving insomnia. Imagine that. So lately my mouth has had a mind of its own. There we are, my kids sitting quietly at the kitchen table doing homework, Robyn puttering about the kitchen, I on my iBook, and suddenly I shout "Heebah!". The entire family has to be resuscitated from heart failure. Why "heebah" and it's variant "heegah"? Not sure. Try shouting them aloud in the privacy of your home or dorm room. They have a battle cry quality about them. I can envision hordes of Vikings shouting "Heebah!" moments before sacking an Irish fishing community. Hey, I'm Irish. Maybe there's some Viking blood in me reaching through the ages to utter the traditional battle cry. Perhaps this is how my ancestors vanquished boredom on dull winter nights.
Still, the Brit in me just wants to have a quiet evening without all the shouting. It's terribly embarrassing and although some of the more amusing syllables I utter send my daughters into secret giggles, I'd rather not be the daily entertainment. Still, it could be worse. I could have Tourette's. Then I could entertain my family with a sailor's vernacular. I guess I'll count my blessings.
So what does this have to do with vocal tics? Well, after thirteen years of chronic motor tic disorder I am really sick of the vocal tics. Nope. Don't like them at all. Coincidentally, vocal ticking increases during periods of raving insomnia. Imagine that. So lately my mouth has had a mind of its own. There we are, my kids sitting quietly at the kitchen table doing homework, Robyn puttering about the kitchen, I on my iBook, and suddenly I shout "Heebah!". The entire family has to be resuscitated from heart failure. Why "heebah" and it's variant "heegah"? Not sure. Try shouting them aloud in the privacy of your home or dorm room. They have a battle cry quality about them. I can envision hordes of Vikings shouting "Heebah!" moments before sacking an Irish fishing community. Hey, I'm Irish. Maybe there's some Viking blood in me reaching through the ages to utter the traditional battle cry. Perhaps this is how my ancestors vanquished boredom on dull winter nights.
Still, the Brit in me just wants to have a quiet evening without all the shouting. It's terribly embarrassing and although some of the more amusing syllables I utter send my daughters into secret giggles, I'd rather not be the daily entertainment. Still, it could be worse. I could have Tourette's. Then I could entertain my family with a sailor's vernacular. I guess I'll count my blessings.
