Day 1--30 Day Challenge:

"Weird things you do when you are alone."

This one is kind of strange for me.  I do lots of things when I am alone, but I am not sure how ‘weird’ they actually are…or maybe it’s just because I am so weird that I think these things are pretty normal? 

What do you think?

1.        I talk to myself.  When I am by myself, I talk A LOT.  (I can just hear you wise guys saying, "You talk a lot when you’re NOT alone!" Har, har, har, ya'll, Mary talks a lot…get over yourself)  Especially when I am cleaning or working on a project…Or when I fall down.  I do that a lot too, but it is not limited to when I am alone, I am just really clumsy in general.  I have had people walk in on me talking to myself and give me odd looks, then give me even odder (Wait...  Is that a word?  Or should I have said ‘more odd’…hmmmm, this is why I would never make it on a newspaper) looks when I tell them I am talking to myself.  However, after years of dealing with such judgy scenarios, I have crafted the ultimate response to a*holes (please don’t read that as ‘asshole’, I loathe that word—it is pronounced exactly like it looks—A HOLE) that give me a hard time for conversing with myself.  The convo goes like this:

        A*hole: “Um, who are you talking to?”

        Me:        “No one.”

        A*Hole:                “So, you are in here, cleaning windows and talking to yourself?” (At this point, A*holes face scrunches up, eyebrows are raised—brows, not brow, because most a*holes are not cool enough to only raise one like me and Scarlett O’Hara—and their voice gets all high at the end)

         Me:        “Yep. I needed an expert opinion”

Crickets chirping....A*hole vanquished!

                

Pretty cool, there, right?  I don’t know how weird that is, but it’s one of my ‘alone time’ things.

2.       I sing.  And I don’t mean I kinda mumble along to the Pandora station.  I full-on, Adele-at-the-Grammys, raise-the-roof SING.  Except I don’t sound anything remotely like Adele…or like anyone with a good voice for that matter.  Because my voice is so epically bad --- ask my little sister….she has a very good story about looking for a tape for a school project and finding some karaoke recordings of me singing the Dixie Chicks---so bad.  So. So. Bad.  I am pretty sure she has residual deafness as a result of the listening.  But it serves her right for snooping through my crap, right? --- I try not to sing around anyone, ever, as I consider myself a bit of a humanitarian.  Consequently, when I am alone, I really go to town on the singing. In my mind, Christina A, Carrie U, T Swift and I are all vocal equals.  Clearly, everywhere outside my delusional brain that is not the case, but it’s fun for me.  It’s a good thing.  Although I am sure my pets would disagree.

Call PETA, she's doing it again!

3.       Aaaaaaaand, finally, the big one.  This is pretty embarrassing, and definitely weird.  I almost didn’t include it due to the social humiliation aspect, but I did commit to this blog challenge, and doing it honestly, so here goes...Try not to varmint on yourself when you read this, I am gagging already…..*deep breath* Here goes….

I pick my toenails. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!! (Betcha some of you thought I was going to talk about masturbation, right?  Gawd, you are sick.  Ew.  Never.  Or at least not this early in our relationship, pervo!)

 This is so disgusting, I am going to just power through this justification as fast as I can.  If you already have a little bit of puke in your mouth right now, just scroll down and write a comment about how awesome I am and how you are going to share this blog with everyone you know, and then leave.  I won’t tell anyone.

I hate feet.  They are gross.  I don’t like looking at feet, touching feet, or having people put their feet near me.  I almost broke up with someone for offering to give me a foot massage on my bare feet!   Feet are lame.  Although, I am immensely grateful for the service they provide keeping me from falling (as much) and having to wear, like ankle caps--how unstylish would that be?  Whenever I get a manicure and I look across the room and see people getting their feet worked on, I have to shut my eyes and go like this:

 

Feeeeeeeeet!

Seriously, next time someone makes you want to yark, make that face ^^ and the feeling will pass.  Anyway, I am sure you get the point.  I don’t get pedicures.  Every 2 weeks, I gird my loins (sorry, I know that’s a creepy phrase, but any excuse I can make to say or wrote the word ‘loins’, I will!), and I do the whole clip-file-paint thing.  Since I am the complete opposite of a professional nail painter, my toenails chip and I pick the nail polish off when no one is around.  Ew. Gross.  Right?  That’s all I have to say about #3, you guys.

 And, thus ends Day 1 of the 30-day Blog Challenge, I hope you had as much fun as I did.  And, since I probably made you want to rip out your own eyeballs rather than read about me and my manky toenails, here is a little sugar from me to you.  Don’t say I never do nice things for you guys!

You're welcome!