The wispy thoughts first...
See, sometimes I fear I may talk too loud--
I cringe at myself, at my boisterous alter ego, sparkling and snorting and limelight-loving.
I may talk too loud...
but I worry that I don't talk loud enough
(or that I should really be using "loudly")
becuase if i was...
Talking loudly enough,
wouldn't the world be a better place?
If everyone laughed more and loved more?
but then I realize, that adding volume does no more to help someone understand that way of life than it does when you're yelling english at someone who only speaks german...stupid americans.
(ok, there's no "M", but I couldn't resist spelling a word!!)
I guess that's more than half of a list, but when I opened blogger, I was only thinking that's all I had...
I opened the door,
and there he stood--
with his heart on his sleeve, in his hands...
on a silver platter.
In that one moment, I broke apart into a million pieces.
I know it souds trite, or cliche, but it's true.
As time whirled around me, I counted them in slow motion, my pieces.
Each one electric and jagged, my lips moved;
counting so high takes great concentration.
All the pieces realigned then
(without giving me a chance to marvel at the wonder of having broken into such a clear, exact number of pieces, when the pieces themselves were neither clear nor exact...)
and I took my next breath.
All of me was flung out the door to wrap around him and draw him in--
as I stood staring, half whispering, "Come in."
(end haunting thoughts and half-dreamt dreams...)
Ok, so two lovely folks tagged me for the same Meme,
which should probably mean they cancel each other out and I don't have to do it,
but it sounds fun, and (the main draw) easy.
I am generally anti-Meme, for the simple reason that it takes too much focus and I can't be bothered with FOCUS.
But I am far more vehementally opposed to "My Space" and I just signed up for a page there, so I guess I can do this.
No, I won't be using it.
I hate that motherfucking organization.
It's like a cult.
Or high school.
Don't get me wrong: I loved high school while I was in it.
Lots of fun.
I'm way too mature to hang out with...uh, yeah. I'm just kidding.
It's not maturity, as such, just...age, I guess.
I'm too old.
don't like their slang, their "U R a Q T" crapola.
Words, folks--USE EM.
I had great fun filling out my profile info...
And the most valid exuse of all:
I did it for Doug Stanhope.
I want to be one of his groupies, but I'm too lazy.
This works for me.
Back to the Meme(s) at hand...
So here are Five Strange Habits I have:
1. If I have a hangnail, I flip it back and forth INCESSANTLY with whichever finger reaches it best (preferably on the same hand) until that finger is cramped. Eventually I find nail clippers and rid myself of the temptation. Nervous tick, what can I say?
2. Calling everyone in my house "honey". If my parents are visiting, I end up calling them "honey" or "hon", and if I'm babysitting other kids they get it, too. (which fortunately doesn't happen often. shudder.)
3. I did not own (or use) a brush, comb or pick for almost 15 years. I would comb my fingers through my hair while applying conditioner. This changed recently, but it's still only brushed once a day, and that is moments before my shower.
4. Habits...hm...this is probably no shock to you, but I give terribly long drawn-out goodbyes over the phone. I have to sumarize the conversation and affirm any plans that were made...it bugs the shit out of me.
5. gah. one more??? um...I am a turn-signal afficionado. No...more like addict. They are important. Use them. I am a very courteous driver, and the only traffic law I have trouble with is crashing through speed limits, but whatever. At least I don't tailgate or change lanes without signalling!!
Wow, that was painful.