...did you know I like crazy boys? I do! If they have very little grasp on reality, then I want them in my life.
Despite the laughable nature of his statement, it - along with the fact that I've been toying with the idea of getting a housemate, and am questioning whether I am co-habiting material - got me thinking about the annoying crap I do (daily.. hourly..) that should definitely deter potential partners/space-sharers. So far, it doesn't seem to be, but it may just be due to their ignorance of the full extent of my irritating behaviour.
So here, as a type of disclaimer before you get liking me too much, is a list of my most annoying habits:
- I say 'like' approximately 14 times per sentence. I have a degree in English and I STILL can't manage to construct a sentence without a meaningless space-filler. Jesus Christ. I blame my parents for allowing me to watch 'Clueless' so much during my formative years: it resulted in a severely delusional twenty-something year old who thinks she's a 15 year old valley girl. And probably always will.
- I am obsessed with dried fruit & nut mixes. I buy 10 different varieties, eat all my favourite bits out of them, then leave the reject leftovers hanging around my house for months in the hope they'll dispose of themselves and/or some kind soul will come and eat them for me.
Trail mix carnage. Anyone want some loser pepitas?
- I deliberately allow the toothpaste to congeal around the top, so I can break off hunks of it and eat it, like some kind of weird chalky taffy. In addition to being annoying for anyone else who wants to use the toothpaste, this habit is also probably slowly killing me.
- I 'recycle' my workout clothes more than is sanitary. Or considerate.
- Feelings of affection and the need to clamber all over somebody are intrinsically linked in my brain. Related annoying habit: using people I like as my primary source of warmth.
- I get home and immediately strip off my clothes in the middle of my living room. And there they stay. Sometimes for weeks.
- I play 'air piano' to every song I hear, regardless of whether it
contains actual piano or not. You haven't lived until you've seen me enact the
piano version of 'Rude Boy'.
- I moult. A lot. I'm like a giant malamute who sheds hair all over everything. Do malamutes shed a lot? I don't know. But if they do, that's exactly like me. Hair in the butter. Hair in the drains. Hair in the soap. Hair frozen into the ice cubes (seriously).
- I do push-ups against one of the walls in my apartment, and there are now darkish, hard-shaped smudges that no cleaning product seems able to remove (landlords, please purchase a time machine and go back a few minutes and don't read that bit).
- I interrupt. All. The. Time. Not because I'm uninterested in what you have to say... just because I get too excited by what I have to say. That's forgivable, right? Uhh.
- I don't know how to properly use my TV, oven or washing machine. And I have absolutely no desire to learn. Welcome to a world of static, partially cooked food, and stained shirts!
- When I can figure out how to turn on my TV, I lie sprawled on the ground in front of it, armed with a razor, and proceed to shave my whatever-needs-shaving.
- Oh yeah... I only shave my whatever-needs-shaving when I'm watching TV. So roughly once a month. Upside: you can sand furniture with my legs. And, after a while, knit blankets for entire villages.
So... there you have it. Conclusions we can draw from this post:
- I'm quite a catch.
- My family, friends, and colleagues are very patient, saint-like people.
- I should never, ever be permitted to live with other human beings.