I love how when someone mentions something about themselves that is honestly a little weird and ridiculous and, before I can stop myself, I blurt out, usually with a silly grin, “Hey, me too!” I’d so much rather stay private and mysterious, always with a savagely serious Sylvia Plath look occupying my face … but still, in that tiny nanosecond of connection, something lovely and wonderful nevertheless occurs. I fall in love with how I’m connected to another person, even if it is only a connection to some mutual weirdness like two people both loving footie pajamas or sharing some obscure little illness or both a little gaga over the brilliance of Johnny Depp. In those moments, the world seems just a little kinder, a little less disconnected.
Yesterday, it was a brief conversation in the grocery line … with a total stranger … about how we both adore those little foil-wrapped wedges of Laughing Cow cheese. In that moment, I flashed on all the little weird things in which we are really not so different from one another.
So, here are ten things about me that are most likely ridiculous, but nevertheless, quite conceivably shared by at least one other person in the world:
- The footie pajama thing. I miss them. I miss living in weather cool enough where they are both reasonable AND obtainable. Phoenix is simply not footie pajama country and I see that little factoid as one of the cruelest abnormalities of living in a desert climate. We simply don’t wear anything with attached foot coverings, no matter how charming they might appear.
- Speaking of feet, I don’t like flip flops. I’ve never enjoyed having an unforgiving piece of pleather rubbing away every cell of tender skin between my toes. By the time I grow the necessary callouses it takes to wear those implements of footal torture, my husband, the dogs AND the cat are all begging me to wear real shoes. Of course, womens’ footwear in general is mysterious and mostly disliked by me.
- I do love Laughing Cow cheese. More than I love broccoli … and I really love broccoli. And red cabbage. And Fudgsicles. And salmon. I love salmon, but not at the same time on my plate with the Laughing Cow or the Fudgsicle. I don’t care if my food items are touching on my plate, but I don’t want different sauces to touch. Nope. Don’t let the sauces touch.
- When I was a kid, other kids called me Wienie Arms. Now after years of sitting on my bum in front of a computer, no one can possibly call me wienie anything. Hah!
- I’m pathologically afraid to deface books. As much as I want, I’m unable to dog-ear a page or write in the margins or underline a particularly gifted passage. I always use a book marker, even if it’s a torn piece from a newspaper. I obviously don’t mind defacing newspapers, which makes me wonder what kind of a person that makes me.
- I’m a news junkie. And a Facebook junkie. And now moving into Twitter junkie territory. I check email with the repetitive manner of one beset with OCD. Sadly, I can’t claim the Twinkie defense, especially since I stopped eating sugar.
- I’m sad about my hair and how it used to be on my head, but now is disappeared like some tragic victim never to be seen or heard from again. Remember the movie entitled, Gone, Baby, Gone? That could have been about my hair. I call it a day well lived if I can manage to get through the daylight hours without staring into the mirror for twenty minutes and lamenting over another widening hair hole on my head.
- I have nine really nifty surgery scars. No, I mean REALLY nifty. I love it when someone has a flicker of curiosity about one of my visible scars. “Arrrgh … Pirates,” I say and then walk away grinning.
- My favorite book of ALL time is the Oxford English Dictionary on CD. Hands down, best.
- I’ve most recently become uncharacteristically fierce about Olympic curling, without understanding one single thing about the game except it involves ice, brooms and very heavy rocks. I’ll get over it.
Okay, your turn. Validate me or repudiate me as you would like … or tell me an oddity of which you’re either particularly proud or horribly ashamed. I promise to keep your secret.