Parannoya - when a person's irrational fears reach the point of irritating the shit out of you.
I knew my wife had issues with paranoia when she got pregnant the first time. She doesn't have the kind of paranoia where she thinks visitors from outer space are trying to kidnap and probe her, and she doesn't think Bigfoot is peeking in the windows at her. Although, she does believe aliens and Bigfoot exist, but that's just goofiness on her part, not paranoia. Her paranoia revolves around criminal activity and medical issues. I guess, "safety", would be the umbrella issue. Every cabinet was safety locked, every sharp corner protected and safety proof gates were installed at the top and bottom of the stairs, before our first child was born. She wouldn't let our kids go into the front, or backyards by themselves until the oldest was about six.
Here's an example of what I mean by parannoya. About a year ago, my wife found out she has type 2 diabetes. So they gave her some dietary rules, which she followed and some medications, which she took. In an effort to make her dietary transition easier, I also cut down on the sugary foods I ate. After several months, the doctor had weaned her off most of the medications he had prescribed. So, she's doing quite well. Then we took a 5 day vacation to Belize. This is when her usual paranoia transitioned into a minor case of parannoya. I packed a backpack with my clothes. She had her purse, a carry on, and another carry on for me to carry. This piece of luggage had, among other snacks, a bunch of bananas. BANANAS! Like they don't have bananas in Belize! These bananas were probably imported from Belize in the first place! So now the bananas were on their way home. She also had a large piece of luggage to be checked. A quarter of that checked luggage was filled with snacks. When I asked why she was packing about ten pounds of snacks, the irritable reply was, "You know I'm diabetic! I have to have snacks in case my blood sugar drops!" So, at some point in the two hour flight to Houston, during which time, we would be served a snack and a drink, OR during the one hour layover in Houston, during which she would be free to eat at an airport restaurant, or buy snacks from one of the little stores, OR during the two and a half hour flight to Belize City, during which she would be served another snack and drink, she was concerned that she might slip into a diabetic coma, if she didn't bring a bunch of bananas and about ten pounds worth of almonds, trail mix and nutrition bars. And THAT, my friends, is what I call a minor case of parannoya. By the way, she didn't eat any of the bananas on the flight. She didn't eat any of the bananas in Belize either, because the Belizean authorities confiscated them upon our arrival. We also returned home with almost all of the other snacks she packed.
Here are some examples of MAJOR parannoya. We have been discussing moving. We want a larger home. Our current home is over 2,000 square feet, on a small lot. I want a larger lot, for a larger koi pond, fruit trees and a vegetable garden. She wants a larger house, because she recently brought a bunch of family heirlooms home and they are filling our garage. So we want a bigger house, on a bigger lot. In Carlsbad, we found a 5,000 square foot home on about an acre, with all the fruit trees I wanted already planted, and with room for a vegetable garden, and a koi pond. It also had a view of the Pacific ocean. Sweet! We discussed an informal offer and headed home to get pre-qualified. By the time we got home, she was having second thoughts, because she didn't know what the crime rate was, or how far the hospitals were, or how good the hospitals were. When she checked, the hospital issue wasn't as good as where we live, but it was fine. She looked up the crime rate and it was higher, but then everywhere has a higher crime rate than our town. The problem was there had been a murder on the very street the house we were interested in was located. I looked into it. Yeah, they had found a dead body, but it had been dumped there, because it's kind of out of the way. The guy was from San Diego and had been killed by his friends who were also from San Diego. So the crime had nothing to do with Carlsbad. Too little, too late. Her parannoya was in high gear! That house was out.
A few months went by and we went to visit my cousin in Cave Creek, Arizona. It was nice. The homes were big and spacious and they were each on at least an acre of land. Originally we had just gone to visit, but it was such a nice area, we decided to look at homes on our last day. My cousin and her husband were kind enough to drive us around for a few hours to look at open houses. We saw a house that we really liked. My wife liked it sooo much that she was bouncing up and down as she walked around. On our way to the next house, my cousin advised my wife not to bounce up and down and clap her hands in glee, when she saw a house she liked, because it made it hard to negotiate on the price. The next house we saw was perfect! We both loved it. We put an informal offer on the house and headed home to California. The real estate agent was going to email us the pre-qualifying papers and other forms we needed to fill out to turn the offer into a formal offer. Half way home my wife said,
"You knooow... it gets hot in Arizona....".
I shook my head, "Here we go again.", I thought. "Yeah, honey...", I said, "we knew it got hot in Arizona, before we started looking at the houses. If the heat was a concern, why did we spend three hours looking at houses?"
"Yeah, but it gets really hot. It gets over 100 for three, or four months!", she said.
"What difference does it make?", I asked. "If it gets over 80 where we live now, you spend all day in an air conditioned house, or in an air conditioned car driving to an air conditioned restaurant, or store, before getting back into your air conditioned car and driving back home to your air conditioned home. When exactly do you go outside? Except for your semi-daily walks and you can just wait for it to cool off to do that." But no, her mind was made up. Arizona was out.
Most recently, a friend of mine, John Witt, told me about a town in Washington state named Sequim. He said it has weather similar to Southern California, but with a little more rain. I looked into it and saw some homes we might be interested in. My wife suggested a flight up, just to look around. A few days later, she said,
"You know, it's a three hour drive to the international airport."
"So? How often are we going to fly somewhere? Four times a year?", I asked.
Yeah, but do you reeeeeally want to drive threeee hours?", she asked.
So apparently, Sequim, Washington is out. THAT is what's called MAJOR parannoya.
I knew my wife had issues with paranoia when she got pregnant the first time. She doesn't have the kind of paranoia where she thinks visitors from outer space are trying to kidnap and probe her, and she doesn't think Bigfoot is peeking in the windows at her. Although, she does believe aliens and Bigfoot exist, but that's just goofiness on her part, not paranoia. Her paranoia revolves around criminal activity and medical issues. I guess, "safety", would be the umbrella issue. Every cabinet was safety locked, every sharp corner protected and safety proof gates were installed at the top and bottom of the stairs, before our first child was born. She wouldn't let our kids go into the front, or backyards by themselves until the oldest was about six.
Here's an example of what I mean by parannoya. About a year ago, my wife found out she has type 2 diabetes. So they gave her some dietary rules, which she followed and some medications, which she took. In an effort to make her dietary transition easier, I also cut down on the sugary foods I ate. After several months, the doctor had weaned her off most of the medications he had prescribed. So, she's doing quite well. Then we took a 5 day vacation to Belize. This is when her usual paranoia transitioned into a minor case of parannoya. I packed a backpack with my clothes. She had her purse, a carry on, and another carry on for me to carry. This piece of luggage had, among other snacks, a bunch of bananas. BANANAS! Like they don't have bananas in Belize! These bananas were probably imported from Belize in the first place! So now the bananas were on their way home. She also had a large piece of luggage to be checked. A quarter of that checked luggage was filled with snacks. When I asked why she was packing about ten pounds of snacks, the irritable reply was, "You know I'm diabetic! I have to have snacks in case my blood sugar drops!" So, at some point in the two hour flight to Houston, during which time, we would be served a snack and a drink, OR during the one hour layover in Houston, during which she would be free to eat at an airport restaurant, or buy snacks from one of the little stores, OR during the two and a half hour flight to Belize City, during which she would be served another snack and drink, she was concerned that she might slip into a diabetic coma, if she didn't bring a bunch of bananas and about ten pounds worth of almonds, trail mix and nutrition bars. And THAT, my friends, is what I call a minor case of parannoya. By the way, she didn't eat any of the bananas on the flight. She didn't eat any of the bananas in Belize either, because the Belizean authorities confiscated them upon our arrival. We also returned home with almost all of the other snacks she packed.
Here are some examples of MAJOR parannoya. We have been discussing moving. We want a larger home. Our current home is over 2,000 square feet, on a small lot. I want a larger lot, for a larger koi pond, fruit trees and a vegetable garden. She wants a larger house, because she recently brought a bunch of family heirlooms home and they are filling our garage. So we want a bigger house, on a bigger lot. In Carlsbad, we found a 5,000 square foot home on about an acre, with all the fruit trees I wanted already planted, and with room for a vegetable garden, and a koi pond. It also had a view of the Pacific ocean. Sweet! We discussed an informal offer and headed home to get pre-qualified. By the time we got home, she was having second thoughts, because she didn't know what the crime rate was, or how far the hospitals were, or how good the hospitals were. When she checked, the hospital issue wasn't as good as where we live, but it was fine. She looked up the crime rate and it was higher, but then everywhere has a higher crime rate than our town. The problem was there had been a murder on the very street the house we were interested in was located. I looked into it. Yeah, they had found a dead body, but it had been dumped there, because it's kind of out of the way. The guy was from San Diego and had been killed by his friends who were also from San Diego. So the crime had nothing to do with Carlsbad. Too little, too late. Her parannoya was in high gear! That house was out.
A few months went by and we went to visit my cousin in Cave Creek, Arizona. It was nice. The homes were big and spacious and they were each on at least an acre of land. Originally we had just gone to visit, but it was such a nice area, we decided to look at homes on our last day. My cousin and her husband were kind enough to drive us around for a few hours to look at open houses. We saw a house that we really liked. My wife liked it sooo much that she was bouncing up and down as she walked around. On our way to the next house, my cousin advised my wife not to bounce up and down and clap her hands in glee, when she saw a house she liked, because it made it hard to negotiate on the price. The next house we saw was perfect! We both loved it. We put an informal offer on the house and headed home to California. The real estate agent was going to email us the pre-qualifying papers and other forms we needed to fill out to turn the offer into a formal offer. Half way home my wife said,
"You knooow... it gets hot in Arizona....".
I shook my head, "Here we go again.", I thought. "Yeah, honey...", I said, "we knew it got hot in Arizona, before we started looking at the houses. If the heat was a concern, why did we spend three hours looking at houses?"
"Yeah, but it gets really hot. It gets over 100 for three, or four months!", she said.
"What difference does it make?", I asked. "If it gets over 80 where we live now, you spend all day in an air conditioned house, or in an air conditioned car driving to an air conditioned restaurant, or store, before getting back into your air conditioned car and driving back home to your air conditioned home. When exactly do you go outside? Except for your semi-daily walks and you can just wait for it to cool off to do that." But no, her mind was made up. Arizona was out.
Most recently, a friend of mine, John Witt, told me about a town in Washington state named Sequim. He said it has weather similar to Southern California, but with a little more rain. I looked into it and saw some homes we might be interested in. My wife suggested a flight up, just to look around. A few days later, she said,
"You know, it's a three hour drive to the international airport."
"So? How often are we going to fly somewhere? Four times a year?", I asked.
Yeah, but do you reeeeeally want to drive threeee hours?", she asked.
So apparently, Sequim, Washington is out. THAT is what's called MAJOR parannoya.
Clapping hands and jumping up and down may be a bad negotiating tactic, it definitely is a tell in poker, that's why I don't play. Some people have a house in Arizona for the winter and go back home in the summer. You can see A LOT of RVs making the trips from Oregon and Washington at those times of year.
ReplyDeleteGood hearing from you Joe. YOU were one of the funniest guys I knew in the Army.
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