Stuck on you.
Today I'm going to tell you how Shelley Duvall is helping ease my paralyzing anxiety caused by adhesives. Wait, let me back it up a hot second: Hi my name is Mac, and I'm afraid of glue.
It sounds strange, but adhesives are just one of the many odd things I'm afraid of. (Others include Doris Day and Mansard houses.) That said, the other day I was faced with a dilemma. I've had a huge crush on Sissy Spacek for a long time. When I was decorating my latest journal, Sissy's half of this picture just ~had to go on it.
Who wouldn't want to mash faces with a babe like Sissy?
Shelley's half kind of got left by the wayside, buried in the mound of Fixens in the Valentine's envelope I got from my friend Julie. I would come across it every so often, and was pleasantly surprised each time. "Oh yeah, Shelley Duvall!" It was silly.
The other day I was killing time in San Fran, waiting for my wifey Hannah to get done blogcademy-ing, and I had my sketchbook out. I traced the outline of Shelley's face, and in hot pink Stabilo wrote: HI, I'M SHELLEY DUVALL.
This presented a multitude of problems.
One: I was trying hard to fight boredom, and didn't have the energy to properly think about what I was doodling in my sketchbook.
Two: this now meant I was going to have to attach Shelley's face to the paper. (And I loathe adhesives.)
This is not a new anxiety, I've had it since I was in elementary school or earlier. I recently realized that it's because the job of adhesives is to stick things together, and when the adhesive fails to do its job (or rather, I've failed to apply it properly and wait long enough for it to dry) I have panic attacks. Yes, plural.
My housemate that moved out awhile ago loves Mod Podge, and I didn't want to have the tape bump on the back of Shelley's head, so I went on a quest. While I couldn't locate Mod Podge exactly, I found other glue (which is my least favorite of all adhesives!!!!) took a deep breath, and went to work.
I grabbed one of our cheap paintbrushes, covered her silhouette with a little goopy glue, and said a prayer before sticking her face right on top. I sat with baited breath, wondering if the odd edge of her hair would be the first to peel off after the glue dried. My face contorted, and I fought to keep the building panic attack out of my chest. It was a real struggle. (I'm relapsing as I type, actually.) After it had dried, I ran my long nails around its edges looking for the stray spot where the glue had failed me. It had to be there, right?
Wrong. (Thus far wrong, anyway.)
I had taken the proper steps necessary to let the glue do its job, and for once, there wasn't a stray edge. Shelley stuck to the paper, and I quietly did a happy dance. (The table where I was working was full of people.) Anxiety be gone! It was so awesome.
Yay for personal growth!
I'll probably hold some semblance of gluephobia for the rest of my life. It's something I'm prepared to deal with.
Today though, I'd like to extend my hands in gratitude to Shelley Duvall who helped me ease a little bit of the pain and suffering glue normally causes me. Hats off to her!
Happy (I can't write gluing) sticking~!