6 Unspectacular Quirks

Okay. Ginger tagged me for this way back in November. It looked like a fun little exercise, so I decided to do it, then promptly pushed to the back burner—way, way back in the back. But, now I've got a minute, here it is. The trick for me is limiting the quirks to six.

Rules:
  1. Link to the person who tagged you and comment in the comment section on their original Quirk post.
  2. Mention the rules on your blog.
  3. Tell 6 unspectacular quirks about you.
  4. Tag 6 or more by linking to them.
  5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogs letting them know they've been tagged.

Here Goes:
  • My toes are incredibly crooked because I frequently stub them. I really jam them, they usually bruise, and sometimes they break. They are so damaged, Adam swears I'm going to need toe implants soon, but then he works for a company that makes the implants so . . . Ariane shows the beginning stages of this malady. When it happens around me, I can feel her pain.
  • I get the hiccups—the really hard, painful kind that go on forever. I have my corrective strategies, but sometimes nothing works. My boys have quit laughing at me about it. Early in my marriage, when my hiccups were cute little hic-a-burps, Dallas called me 'Otter'.
  • I am a pathological editor. I'm constantly critiquing the syntax of what I read, no matter who wrote it, even if only in my head. Charles Dickens is really sloppy with his syntax. I hate dangling participles and split infinitives, and people! Mostly is not a word! The proper word is primarily. However can be used in the middle of a sentence only if it is followed by a semi-colon. Otherwise, it belongs at the beginning or the end of the sentence. Misuse of homonyms makes me twitch. I get really frustrated when my own mistakes slip past me, or I find them two seconds after I hit the send button. Doh!
  • When I send text messages, I can't bring myself to use 'text-speak' but have to type everything out, complete with capitalization and punctuation. It makes me absolutely crazy when people use text-speak when they're composing from a keyboard.
  • I use big words. They're thrifty. Why use four words when you could use one? Sometimes I spend way too much time searching for just the right word because my poor brain is so difficult to access. I know it's out there somewhere!
  • I live in constant fear that I'll do or say the wrong thing, offend someone, make a complete fool of myself, or make it only too apparent what a fraud I am. I'm afraid I'll cross the line between friendliness and imposing myself upon others, so I stay clear of it. Sometimes, three hours after a conversation or encounter, I think, "Why in the world did I say that?! How lame can I get?" My most vivid childhood memories are those of abject humiliation.
People I'm tagging: Carrie, Tomi Ann, April, Camille, Kami, Shasta, Lucy, Kathy, and Ariane because she really needs one.

5 comments:

Lucy Stern said...

Penny, now I know not to write something that you might read.... I have never been the world's best with sentence structure....Yeks!

Jennifer was my child that couldn't stop stubbing her toes...She has broken the little toe, on her right foot, at least three times. It is a wonder that is in still in one piece..lol.

tomiannie said...

So funny! I'm with you on the text-speak. I just can't bring myself to do it. I'll have to think about this one -- I'll let you know when I post mine.

Camille Farias said...

I totally get the text thing. I do the same. The sad thing is that as a 7th grade English teacher, I have to spend all day reading it in the kids' essays. Also, I don't stub my toe, but I do cut myself seriously several times a year. I stopped worrying about stitches and now just glue myself back together, so I can kind of relate to that, too.

ginger said...

and THAT's why I tagged Penny! I am abashedly unashamed when it comes to folksy typing -- Just wish I was there to watch you twitch LOL!

Lewis Family said...

We are kindred spirits. Thanks for the tag; I enjoyed laughing at your list and seeing myself.