- Whenever I walk to my car, I start clicking my little car alarm clicker to see how close I have to be until it unlocks. It’s my own stupid little game, but I love it.
- I take singing in the car to a whole new level. What do I mean? I mean that there are several songs on each mix CD I create dedicated to me imagining singing at a show. Like, for people. With a guitar. These are the things I dream of, people.
- If Andrew, my mom or dad, a friend, etc. is more than 15 minutes late from somewhere, I start to worry. And in the case of Andrew, I start to call repeatedly. Overzealously, perhaps. What can I say? I love him. I worry.
- I eat sandwiches in layers. Usually, I eat the first half “as nature intended.” The second half, though? I peel off the bread, eat the cheese and meat, and then eat the bread after it’s gotten all soggy with condiments. I find it delicious; most watching me find it horrifyingly disgusting. And yet I could not care less.
- Pizza obviously presents another conundrum: I peel off toppings, than cheese, then the doughy part and eat that with ranch dressing. Only if I’m hungry will I eat the hard, crispy part at the bottom. Also wildly attractive, as I’m sure you might imagine.
- I am an introvert masquerading as an extrovert. I’m friendly, enjoy people and all that jazz; however, I need time alone. A lot of it. Or at least time on the couch, Andrew next to me, with something mindless on and everything still. This, by far, is what recharges my batteries.
- I am obscenely proud of my handwriting.
- When someone is performing, and they’re screwing up (i.e. singing off key, they fall while dancing, etc.) or embarrass themselves in any way, I tear up automatically. I think being embarrassed in front of others while performing is the worst ever, and I just feel so bad. This empathy, however, does NOT prevent me from mocking them in private at home. I realize this makes the previous statement null and void. I’m sorry.
- I find it difficult to like myself if my toes aren’t painted.
- I practice conversations in the car. And talk to myself. And also leave voice memos on my phone to myself, with important things to purchase at Target and whatnot. And then I replay them in the store. I’m the girl in Target with her phone shouting out things like “WINDEX!” and “DISHWASHER SOAP!”
What are your little quirks and idiosyncricies?