one, two, three, four

Prompt: Four weird traits you have

Can people even really assess their own weird traits? I don’t think they can. I think most of us are oblivious to our truly weird traits. Still, I’ll try. I can think of at least one I’ve been informed of by others … I’ll try to think of more.


A few years ago, I was told by several friend/ coworkers that it is weird that I use the overtype/ insert key to edit on the fly. I explained that it’s not at all weird, it’s efficient–that I am skim-reading the previous paragraph as I’m typing the next one, and it’s just faster to use the insert to dart back and make corrections than it is to use the backspace or delete buttons. One of the group said, “Yeah, I’ve noticed you doing that, too, and that’s not just weird, that’s straight-up unnatural. Nobody edits while they type.”

I disagree. Obviously, there are plenty of people out there who use the insert key: Why else would it exist? However, it’s clearly an unusual enough behavior that my habit had drawn attention and remark from others. It was, in a word, weird.

So that’s weird behavior number one.


I haven’t exactly been told noticing qualifiers in colloquial speech and finding them situationally funny is weird, but from the way people react when I giggle at them or point them out, I think it might be.

For example, my mom once wrote me a letter with the lines,

I love you because you are you. You are bubbly and enthusiastic and you can be kind and compassionate. 

This always make me snicker. I mean, it’s really sweet and I love it, but it also makes me grin every time I read it.

If you think it’s funny, then you get me. If you don’t then … yeah, you probably think I’m weird to be laughing at something like that.


Interpreting hypothetical scenario questions to the most extreme example.

Again, I don’t think this is necessarily “weird” so much as “fun mental exercise“. However, it quickly goes from “fun mental exercise” to “bad habit” and “weird” when you’re in serious pain at the hospital and the nurse asks you, “On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is your pain right now?”

“What’s a 10?” you whimper.

“The worst pain imaginable,” she says.

Well. The worst pain imaginable? Geez. I’ve only given birth and been in a motorcycle accident. On balance, those aren’t actually that bad. I mean, I’ve never been flayed alive, or tarred and feathered, or had boiling oil poured on me, or been waterboarded for 48 hours straight, or had sharpened poison sticks driven through my flesh, or had a limb amputated without any sort of pain management, or been mauled by a shark or a bear or a wild pig … no, on balance, I’ve actually lived a pretty comfortable life.

“Two,” I whimper, curled around the spiking agony in my abdomen. The nurse straightened, looking relieved and little disgusted at my noises of pain.

My husband, standing nearby and knowing how both my mind and body works, looks exasperated. “She means the worst pain you’ve actually experienced,” he translates.

“Ooooh,” I say. “Well, then, seven.”


After consulting with my friend DJ, we decided I am a weird cat owner. Apparently when my cats climb into my lap and I then lift them upright and hold out their upper legs and give them a “voice” so they can hold forth with opinions on various household goings-on, that is not normal cat-ownership behavior. She also said most cat owners do not do the pull-squish of, “my mommy pulled my braids too tight/ I ate too much spaghetti,” to their cats’ face. So. Yeah.

Weird cat owner, here.






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