As promised: What Makes Me Weird

Since I was tagged by one of the funniest people I “know,” I will actually go ahead and do this meme.

What Makes Me Weird: A Short List.

1. I am ambidexterous, which means I’m 32 years old and still have trouble with the concept of “left” and “right.” I eat, write, and crochet left-handed and do almost everything else (I said ALMOST, you perverts!) right-handed. Years of marching band mean I am trained to lead with my left leg, but my right leg is actually the dominant one since I put my pants on right leg first. Same with shoes. The fact that I have actually paid attention to and remember these things is what makes me weird.

2. I have an incredible memory for minutiae. I remember crazy things, like the names of clouds and stuff. This would be good if I could ever get motivated to try out for Jeopardy, but after a rather traumatic experience in high school Quiz Bowl, I am paralyzed by fear in this regard. Instead, I tend to turn my big brain on at the bar with the NTN trivia. Not so much now that we have the kid thing, but there was a time when I could piss people off from across the room by simply being less stupid than they were.

3. When it comes to M&M’s or Skittles or any other kind of candy that comes in colors, I will empty out the whole bag (or however much I’m eating at the time), separate them by colors, then make sure there is an equal number of each color by eating the “extras.” Then, I eat them three by three, making sure to never have two of the same color in my mouth at any one time. I used to line them up and make designs out of them, but that tends to only happen if I’m working and have a desk.

4. I see nothing wrong with talking to myself out loud, in public. More people should do it.

5. I cannot, ever, listen to the song “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. I have no idea why this is, but that song makes me want to jump out of my skin. Awhile back, the Foo Fighters covered it and it was on the radio 24/7. I’m sure some regression therapy would help to get to the bottom of this, but as it stands now, if I’m in the car flipping stations, I will start to yelp and frantically stab at the radio until I find something more suitable. Put it this way – I would rather listen to William Hung for three straight hours than listen to that song even once.

6. I believe in ghosts. Not just in a “yeah, it’s possible” way, either. I have actually seen and experienced them.

7. I give excellent directions. But they’re Chick Directions. Chick Directions differ from Dude Directions in a few significant ways. Dude Directions are usually along the lines of “make a right onto 27, go about 3 miles, then a left on Stewart, then about a half-mile and my house is on the left.” Chick Directions are more like this: “okay. Make a right on 27 by the liquor store. No, the other liquor store, remember where we bought the Cointreau that time? Then you’ll pass the gas station and the sub shop, then make a right onto I-forget-the-name but there’s a Walgreen’s there. My road is the third one on the left, and my house is blue with my red car out front. It’s on the right.” CHICK DIRECTIONS RULE, especially in my part of New Jersey, where the street signs are more often than not freshly stolen. Landmarks are necessary!

See what I mean? I’m weird enough to be considered normal. Nothing I do is really “out there” unless you count my complete and utter disregard for the opinions of others. I mean, great – have an opinion about me, but it in no way influences my behavior. Like Christine once said “You live your life like nobody’s watching.”