Phobia Cornucopia: Part I

Recently eaten: bag of cashews, hot pocket
Recent annoyance: humidity

This is part I of Phoebe's Phobia Cornucopia series which will explore all of my irrational and weird phobias. Yes, it's all a rich tapestry. I decided to start with my fear of open water after stumbling upon this article, "Invention Allows Humans to Breathe Like Fish." What, you may ask, is so frightening about this miracle of science? I'll tell you what the future may hold:

1. Once humans are allowed to roam free underwater, it's not just the sharks and the sea horses one has to look out for. Any pick-pocketing, jail-breaking, underwater knife-wielding maniac could be lying in wait for me under the waves. It's a beautiful day at the beach, right? WRONG! You just got hog-tied and whipped with a sack of door knobs by a gang of hydro-ruffians.
2. Did you ever think that breathing underwater is all the fish have going for them? The Little Mermaid wasn't just whistling Dixie when she pined, "Wish I could be part of that world." Once we start living it up and having huge underwater raves, the fish will have even more reason to hate us aside from our luxuriantly scale-free bipedal appendages. And the current mammalian braniac of the sea, dolphins, will probably start shooting us with lasers. That they have the technology and the bloodthirst, I am most certain.

Ah, I digress. As I get on in years, I find my paranoia mounting and a number of strange phobias have manifested themselves. I did a little searching around about my fear of open water and found the following terminology that might help you to understand my condition:

• Hydrophobia--fear of water
  
• Cymophobia--fear of waves or wave-like motion
  
• Thalassaphobia--fear of the ocean or the sea
• Oneirogmophobia--fear of wet dreams
  

Open water is one of my more understandable fears. The fear of the unknown, of the murky depths mastered only by pirates and Caribbean Cruise Lines, leaves me stranded on the beach every summer. Compounding this fear are the existence of sharks, my inability to swim, and my incredibly non-buoyant body. Sailing on the Riviera? Swimming with the dolphins? This landlubber says "no thanks." I'll join the legions of the scared and dry in a world where Kevin Costner would never have made Waterworld and my digits won't get pruney until they shove me in a casket.