Wednesday, May 30, 2007

how bizarre...

Prior to the holiday weekend, Jerusalem tagged me to post “7 weird things about myself”. I told her I would work on it Monday, while I was adding items to the empty ETSY store. I did not. I went to the lake instead. My computer must have felt brutally neglected, but I am quite certain it will get over itself.

The thing is I identified with most of Jerusalem’s own “weird things”, so obviously a list of 7 items will in no way exhaust all of my weirdness. I consulted with my roommates to try to get a few ideas of what to post. I was amazed (to say the least) at the proficiency with which they were able to contribute observations of my odd behavior.

Eating My Food From The Outside In
So this has been my stand-by claim to quirkiness, first observed by a friend in high school. You may ask, “Doesn’t everyone eat their food this way?” But you must understand, that I do not simply mean starting at one end of a sandwich and working your way to another. Think of a labyrinth. I work my way around the outside of a hamburger and continue spiraling until I reach the center. Pizza is a bit different, as I start with the crust, followed by the tip, and then begin my pilgrimage to the enlightened bite.

Announcing My Intentions
If I am in a room with my roommates and need to excuse myself, I always feel the need to let them know exactly what I am going to do (going to bed, going to the bathroom, going to sort my laundry…). I’m not sure why I feel the need to do this, but my roommates find it absolutely hilarious. If I leave a room without announcing my intentions, they feel neglected: “Hey Kim, where are you going?” So I indulge them: “I going to pee.” I’m glad I can entertain them so easily.

Obsessive Ironing
To hear my roommates tell it, you would think I iron my socks. This, indeed, is not the case. But the fact remains, between the Laundromat and my closet, clothes get wrinkled (even jeans and t-shirts), and they have to be ironed. I know they will get wrinkled again when I wear them, but those are natural wrinkles. Stop laughing.

A Song and A Story For Everything
Yes, this is an annoying habit – but not intentional. I blame it on Schoolhouse Rock! and The Electric Company. Any phrase, or even a simple word can set me off. It’s like I have an internal database of song lyrics. I try to just sing the song quietly to myself, but often I can not resist sharing an interesting anecdote about the artist, or the story of the song, or where I was when I first heard it, or where I was when I last heard it…. Ok, it’s a sickness really. If only I could have applied my talent to my studies...

Is it just me, or am I starting to sound neurotic? Since the first of the year, I have come to the realization that I over-analyze everything. The realization started to surface when I attempted to take guitar lessons. My teacher would laugh and say that I was learning very quickly, and that I might actually be able to play really well if I didn’t think so hard about every little move. I quit said lessons when he started explaining multiple ways to play the same chord… too much to think about… I was overwhelmed. My lovely roommates began noticing it about my driving – I would explain why we were taking a particular route and what we would avoid along the way (or what sites we would be able to take in)… or what left turns we would circumvent. The reality hit me when we were going for a leisurely walk around the neighborhood, and I started explaining why it would make more sense to take one street as opposed to another - I just shut up and said "wow".

Use To Want 8 Kids
My sister and brother each have one girl and one boy. One of each. Perfect symmetry. However, my father has seven siblings and my mother has five. I also devoured The Baby-Sitters Club books during my childhood, and thought the Pike family with their eight children was the coolest. I love big families. I also turn a whiter shade of pale when my roommates start talking about the birthing process… so maybe if I ever get around to the whole kid thing I’ll just adopt.

Short-Lived Dream of Being a Tall, Leggy Blonde
I know, I know. I seem very secure in my pale-is-the-new-tan-short-is-cute-brunettes-rule-the-world self, right? But there was a time when I would look at the likes of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy and Gwyneth Paltrow and dream of being a tall, elegant, fair creature. Especially with Gwyneth, because she’s just so damn cool. But I got over that. I moved on to more realistic role models, like Janeane Garofolo.

Now I believe I am to tag 7 other people (who may or may not choose to play this little game), but some people tagged less than seven, which means I could tag more. So I choose: Angelika, Ramon, Sarah, Rebekah, Sam, Jennie, Janna, Meredith, Amy and Ines.


Angelika said...

i will work on this (once i figure out what my new gmail account name is to sign in) ... and finally get back to posting. and just to let the world know: i even iron my towles, my dish towles, my underwear, ...

Jerusalem said...

Wow. The ironing people are crazy! Haha. You feel like we share a lot of the same weird things. Next time I have to post I will ask Nathan... no telling what things he could come up with!

Anonymous said...

this is so ironic. i have, only recently, invented a numerical system with which any number can be simplified into randomly generated sequences of encoded text which, no matter what, always spell out the word "iron".

and what's more, the number seven came to me in a dream last night demanding porridge and pickled okra. it was wearing an apron from which the strings had been cut - its mother following close behind with a battery powered iron and shouting profanities in some unintelligible timorese dialect.

the only thing i remember from the dream was a sweaty numeral seven looking me dead in the eye, without blinking once, and saying: "the devil in the details, dog. and details a whole lots like a mess of wrinkly laundry, seen?"

i woke up holding a warm flat towel. my ears were ringing. and the whole house smelled of starch.

jeanetta said...

ok i usually only iron if there is fusable webbing involved. al though one day i was ironing all my crocheted lace dolies. dont know why hmmm.....
you can come do my ironing lol.

Jennie said...

I eat my food in a circle - one bit of this, one bite of that, until I'm left with one bite of each item at the end.

I love that you used to want 8 kids - that's so funny to me for some reason.