Because here’s mine, that I only identified a few years ago. No clue where it came from, no idea how long I’ve done it, forget all about it until I observe myself doing it again:
Every single time I step out of the bath or shower, at the precise moment I step out, before or as I’m reaching for my towel, I make the weird sound that Hannibal Lecter makes after he tells Clarissa about eating the guys liver with the fava beans.
Every. Single. Time.
WTF???
Here’s the topper: I do it perfectly when I do it unconsciously like that. But when I try to consciously reproduce it, it sucks.
So… just me? Or do you have some completely mysterious tic or behavior that you cannot fathom yourself?
Yeah, I smoke tobacco – a pipe. It’s just a small habit I enjoy and I use this habit to pass the time, more than any particular enjoyment.
I also talk out loud (sotto voce) when performing various tasks – you may think I’m wrong, but I imagine this annoys a great many more people IRL in public spots. On the order of “where is it I’m going? oh yeah, right this way.” That kind of thing. Or, trying to find a book at a “research” library, very quietly clucking tongue and saying “eh, matrices, whatever I want the Poole textbook so I can see what those idiots are teaching those kids.”
Muttering, I guess, is what it’s called.
Crossing a city street, “eh, damn asshole you fucker.”
I probably talk out loud more than I am quiet, but of course I am talking to my dogs. The inexplicable part is that i do so almost exclusively using accents. Most frequently some kind of British, Australian or South African, but sometimes German, French, or Russian. Been that way my whole life.
Oh, dear, when I was mushrooming, i always wondered who was the awful person who kicked them over, making identification impossible or who – even worse – ruined an edible. Since it is unlikely we were in the same spots, you may take comfort in knowing you are not alone is your compulsion.
Mine is smoking and not just because smoking is stupid.
Me (at school, smoking and chatting with another student about our majors)
Me: What are you majoring in?
Her: Liberal Arts
Me: I did that one too! Don’t be surprised if you want to go back in time to kill Plato during the Intro to Liberal Arts class.
Her: What are you majoring in now?
Me: (still smoking) Respiratory Therapy.
Her: :eek::rolleyes::eek: Seriously?
I’m trying, I swear. I don’t even know why I started smoking again after quitting in 2009 but damn it’s so much harder to quit this time!!
When I take my shoes and socks off, I have to “floss” between my toes with the socks.
Also, I tie my shoes in a way that is unlike anyone else. Blame my dad for that one - rather than teaching me by rote how everyone ties their shoes, me made me a wooden shoe with laces, showed me what a bow looked like and said “make something like that” to encourage creativity. Which is exactly the wrong thing to do to a child if you want them to have a normal or successful school career. Teachers (other than art teachers)* really* do not appreciate creativity.
I do have a hard-to-eradicate habit, but it’s not inexplicable: it’s that for years I’ve stuck my toothbrush or glass or hands-to-be-washed right under the faucet to get the first water that comes out.
I trained myself to do that years ago in the name of not being wasteful. But since then I’ve learned that the first bit out of the faucet will be fairly high in bacteria-count, and so one should let it flow for a second or so before using the stream. As many times as I tell myself not to, though, if I’m tired I’ll forget.
Not a gigantic big deal, of course. I was exposed to a LOT of whatever bacteria there are, during the years of catching the first drop…and I’m still here.
Apparently I frequently put my elbow up in the air while I’m sleeping on my side. My boyfriend calls it my chicken wing, and puts it down for me. Usually I don’t wake up, and he tells me about it in the morning. People are weird!
I make obscene and anatomically painful suggestions to the characters in commercials that I don’t like. It doesn’t happen too often since I’m reasonably quick with the remote but I sometimes wonder about the day I’m old(er) and (more) senile and don’t censor myself when other people are around.
When eating, I always “save the best for last.” I eat around the edge of a sandwich, then eat the center. if it’s a fast-food burger, I’ll take out the pickles, tomato, lettuce, etc. and eat them first. A slice of pie, I eat from the crust to the tip. Cake, I try to save as much of the frosting as I can for last. And of course pizza, from the crust to the point. In fact, if I’m eating pizza alone, I turn it over and eat all the crust first, then that huge delicious glob of toppings.
Of course, when I’m eating with other people, I try to minimize all of this.
Sometimes I think that I don’t have a personality in as much as a web of inexplicable habits. When eating a “paired” food like cheese and crackers, I try to balance the portions of each so that I don’t end up with just one or the other at the end. I will continuously halve the portions to this end.
I like to arrange my M&Ms by color. Alternately, I will pour them out on the table and selectively eat them (without moving them) so as to segregate them by color.
I like to quote Tor Johnsons biggest line (“Time for go to bed”) but changed to whatever I’m about to do: “Time for go to lunch, Time for take a dump, Time for do laundry,” etc… Yeah, I’m a MSTie.
I tend to mumble to myself, but in nonsense words. I don’t know why. Very Dadaistic.
There are many other habits. Maybe I’ll get to some of them. For now, Time for write staff report.
I’ve been thinking out loud a lot lately. So much so that it’s kind of freaking me the fuck out. I hope this isn’t an early sign that I’ll be bat shit crazy when I reach my senior years.
When I’m playing blackjack, I become the bastard child of Adrian Monk and Rain Man. I have a whole bunch of chip stacking and moving rituals.
The winning chips have to be picked up, turned sideways, and tapped on the original chips (the ones I placed as a bet). The number of stacks of chips in front of me should be odd, and the … well, never mind. No one needs this detailed look into my insanity.
I swear, though, that blackjack is the only time I do this.
We have several sets of salt and pepper shakers. 2 or 3 in the kitchen, maybe 3 on the dining room table. All different. Not bull and cow, or boy/girl or kitchey sets, just differing glass pairs for standard use.
If I need salt, I grab any of them. If I need the salt AND the pepper, I have to use 1 pair only.
I won’t use saltshaker A with pepper C. If that’s what’s nearby, I’ll get up and find a matching pair.
It seems like all the males on my Italian side never eat the last small corner of a sandwich that we were last holding. Sometimes people have commented to me on this, one time at a family pic nic I noticed all the men left the one corner.
What are you majoring in now?
