Saturday, October 18, 2008

TMI

Okay. I saw the Yarn Harlot, but before I try to find my camera to download the pic, (I got to my room that night, dropped my bags, and just about passed out, before I realized I had to do a load of laundry at 12:30 am.) and post about it, I need to clear up something:

1. I'm a social misfit.

I got to spend some time with some really cool people. And, I met a very nice young lady, S. S mentioned she had this fear (I'm not going to mention it.) But, I think I reacted like I thought she was insane. AH! No, no, no! In fact, I wanted to compare seemingly irrational fears. So, S, if you're out there, this post is for you.

2. Every headache I get surely means I'm about to have a cerebral aneurysm.

Then, if I manage to get the headache to go away with acupressure, caffeine, or pills, I remember:

3. I know I'll die by getting hit by a bus.

So, I look both ways, usually twice, before crossing the street. I hate to jaywalk or cross against the lights.

4. I'm a major goopaphobe.

Coined by my wife, as a goopaphobe I don't like sticky fingers, my boy to wipe his nose on my arm, or guacamole on my elbow. I used to get a peeved face. I just stop what I'm doing and reach for the paper towels. Now, that doesn't mean I don't like my wife's guacamole, or my boy's nose. I'll weed the garden, or unplug a drain, but I'll de-goop as soon as I can.

5. I don't like to eat in front of strangers.

Geez. All sorts of neurosis there. I have trouble eating at buffets, 'cause I feel like all the humans (including me) are at the feed station of some barn, and all the eating and grunting noises are magnified in my head, seeing all the people hunched over, shoveling all-they-can-eat deep-fried everything into their maws, fattening up for the county fair...

...and, that's how I feel when I eat in front of strangers. I mean, which one is the nacho fork? Do I chug my Guinness too fast? What if a string of cheese gets caught in my goatee and no one tells me? What if I absent-mindedly wipe my goopy hands on my pants? My neighbor's skirt? Did I just talk with my mouth full? Laugh with my mouth full? I my mouth ever NOT full? I feel like a pig when eating in front of strangers. Which, of course, leads back to:

1. I'm a social misfit.

I don't know the polite topics, I cannot talk about football, and I feel dorky when I mention the weather we're having. I can't segue between topics without feeling I ran over a speed bump. If I say anything, I'm sure I offended someone. I feel like I'm leering when I smile, and when I look people in the eye, I feel like I see pieces of their souls, so I try hard not to stare, so I lower my eyes, which can be a problem if you're a guy talking to a lady, then I worry I look gawky and desperate -- for absolutely no reason-- and maybe I should just stay home and knit. I don't know how to say good-bye. And, when this all floods my brain...

6. I chant.

I chant, "I love my wife I love my wife I love my wife," under my breath. Now, true, I DO love my wife. That's not why I chant it. The reason I chant it is because I feel like I've done something incredibly dumb, and crude. I know no matter how stupid the incident, yet, incredibly, my wife still loves me. And, that's why I chant it.

So, S, see? I don't think you're crazy at all. Just crazy enough.

HEY! Hockey's on. Gotta motor.

2 comments:

Persnickety Ticker said...

I love the randomness that is your thought train.

Choo-choo!!

Knit Kimber Knit said...

You are a kook!!! I am glad you had a great time seeing the Harlot!