1. The Clean Freak
Supergenius HQ is dusty and full of cat hair. So much of it, in fact, that it looks like my entire house is in some sort of hazy soft focus. If I were to take a picture you’d think the place was lit with the same kind of lighting they use on Barbara Walters to hide her age. Only there is no lighting, just dirt. I long to be the kind of person who cannot go to bed until the house is tidy, or whose day is simply incomplete until the vacuuming is complete. I am not that person, and after nearly thirty-eight years on this planet I don’t think I am going to become that person. No, I am the person who does the dishes only when I run out of coffee cups and/or forks.
2. The Random Song Quoter
When I was a teenager I would fill the inside covers of my notebooks with random song lyrics. As you can see the front covers were reserved for the names of bands I loved.
Based on the popularity of lyrics quoted randomly and without context on Facebook and Twitter, I like to believe that I was not alone in the habit. Unlike some people, I have outgrown it. Not that I’m happy about this adult-onset inability to push song lyrics out into the ether. It’s just that now, I fail to see the point. It’s tough. Approximately sixty-two times today I have had to fight the urge to type “I’m a man man man eater but still you’re surprised prised prised when I eat ya” and send it out into the wild. Yet, I don’t. Why? Because I don’t want to put the people who read the words I type to ponder what the fuck it means and why I would commit those words to my name without providing any context. I want to save them from wondering why is she typing that? What does it mean? Is she giving head and tweeting at the same time again?
I think if I were the Random Song Quoter type of person I’d probably sleep better at night and not be kept awake by the constant look of Neko Case singing that song.
A couple of months ago, I randomly quoted that Willie Nelson song about gay cowboys on my Twitter and within an hour, some guy who played for the Dallas Cowboys (it was a verified account) started following me. It was excellent. However, after I made fun of the account for following me without checking the context, it stopped following me. There must be some software that scrapes public tweets for certain keywords and auto-follows, but I am not enough up on that stuff to know for sure.
The amateur Kremlinologists who try to figure out what exactly my motive is, man, for posting song lyrics piss me off. Sometimes you just feel like posting lines from Lush songs, okay?
Wow, Glass Tiger. Holy cow. Don’t forget me when I’m gone.
Glass Tiger was my very favorite band in 8th grade.
I LOVE YOU, I love you, I love you I love you Iloveyou IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouILYily
The self-same thought has run through my brain so often of late that it’s reached a point of nearly causing me physical pain to resist that urge, but there you are – I just can’t find myself saying “bla bla Christian says he can’t ever let you run free bla bla bla” simply because I AM NO LONGER A TEENAGER IN LOVE with lyrics for the sake of letting other people in my awesome kah-nowledge of lyrics.
(Instead, I embroider them sneakily into my comments on other peoples’ blogs and pray some human will notice, preferably the cool-ass blogger whose post I am commenting on, and then we’ll run through fields and give each other daisy chains and it. will. be. awesome.)
p.s. I would die for you.