The first player of this game starts with writing 6 weird things/habits about themselves and then selects 6 others to write an entry about their 6 weird things/habits as well as state this rule clearly. After making your list of weird things, pick 6 others. They are allowed to laugh at you in your comments as much as they want, so deal! Don’t forget to leave a note that says, “You are tagged!” in their diary.”
- It doesn’t matter if I sleep til four in the afternooon, or bounce out of bed at seven, I am never really awake until I’ve brushed my teeth, and if the toothpaste is a flavor other than mint, my whole world is off-kilter.
- I have an underwear fetish, of a sort. My underwear has to match or coordinate with whatever I’m wearing. Granted, no one but me and Fuzzy ever see my underwear, but it’s like a secret. Knowing is half the fun. To this end, I have more underwear than any single human truly needs, and could probably go a month or two without HAVING to wash any, though that would be gross, and favorite outfits would be unworn.
- Sometimes, I write smut.
- I have a strong aversion to public restrooms. I have ever since I was little. It might have something to do with being the one to crawl under the door and open the stall from the inside, at the beaches in New Jersey that only have pay-toilets (not like the froufrou ones in Europe, just normal public restrooms with coin-op locks on the doors). When I am in a restaurant or store that has a clean and non-threatening restroom it goes on a sort of mental map. (Yet another reason to frequent Starbucks.)
- I think in songs. Mostly showtunes. If my life was a play it would so HAVE to be a musical comedy.
- When I’m writing, especially dialogue, I have to hear it to know if the phrasing is right, so I wander around the house testing bits of scenes I’m working on and very likely confusing Fuzzy, and not just the dogs. I suspect they all want to know who I’m talking to. (I try not to do this in public, because that would border on unpleasantly weird, but sometimes I think I forget. Maybe I should get a bluetooth headset for camouflage?)
As for tagging, I don’t like to do that. If you’re moved to respond, do so. I tag you, you, you, not YOU, but definitely you, and you…oh, and you too.
that is not a fetish
that is (let’s make up some large Latin based word later) an extraordinary sense response to the power of color. I think I know where you got it. (osmosis from staying over my apartment when you were small) If my underwear does not color match/blend with the other colors on top I get a headache. If I change top clothes and vibrations start to arise because the top item now does not communicate properly with the other (at least I guess that’s what they’re doing) I must change my undergarments. Ergo I am often late.
all you need is a trip to China and you will bless every NJ bathroom you get to visit afterwards
squatting in a restaurant BR (Beijing even) while lifting all that tourist paraphernalia above the wet, attempting to keep the matching underpants dry, and letting your stream go…well…