Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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Weird habits

I often point out how neurotic I am in this journal. It's one of the themes I point to ad naseum in an attempt to the probable consternation of the likes of blorky and byzantinespy who most likely have better things to do than skim, much less read, repetetive whining of a self-absorbed hack. I'm not implying that the rest of you don't have better things to do, oh who the fuck am I kidding, I probably am. I never claimed I wasn't an asshole. Quite the contrary.

Back to the neurosis. I engage in all sorts of odd behaviors that I can't explain in anything resembling a coherent manner. For example, I have a tendency to buy a bunch of music albums at once, and then listen to only one or two of them. I'll listen to it over and over until I get sick of it, slot it into my library of constant rotation, and then buy a few more, often leaving some of the other ones I got previously unopened. It's not like I'm buying one album I really want to listen to and a few just on a whim either. I tend to either buy a bunch I've wanted or just a bunch of random junk I might have heard of or that might have a song or two I want. It's almost like psychologically just by owning something, wrapped in cellophane as it might remain, I subconsciously believe that it has entered my mind by osmosis and thus no longer needs to actually be listened to. Maybe it's just a capitalist inspired urge to buy and collect, but I'm not sure it's that either. I don't buy heavily advertised or even new albums, rather older things and obscure stuff I have an interest in. If it was capitalism rearing its ugly conspicuously consumptive head wouldn't I be listening to 50 Cent instead of decades old Randy Newman songs right now? Sometimes this behavior actually rears its ugly head in a single album. I haven't listened to the second disc of my "Best of Lynyrd Skynyrd" collection in the 5 years I've had it, even though I really enjoy the first disc. This makes no sense to me, but I have no urge to give it a spin. The same with this Randy Newman box set. It came with four discs. I started with disc 2 because it contained I Love LA and Short People, and I haven't really ventured beyond that. The best explanation I can come up with is that all the other discs get associated with the one I've listened to hundreds of times, and I get sick of them along with the one I've actually heard. It's like if you're sick of Vanilla ice cream you're likely to be sick of French Vanilla too because they're not really distinct flavors. My mind does the same thing with these CDs. Only it's not the difference between Vanilla and French Vanilla. Sometimes it's the difference between Chris Isaac and Naughty By Nature.

I'm an odd odd man.

I do this even worse with DVDs and video games. I have stacks of unplayed games, most of which I'll probably never get around to. It's very odd, because I don't collect other things. I only have two pair of pants that really fit and about 7 shirts. I've cut back significantly on the stuff recently, but I'm not sure why I did it to begin with. What possessed me to need a collection of literally hundreds of games, when I only really play 30-40 of them? It's inexplicable. At least collecting books makes sense. They have no shelf life. Nobody really wants to play a 5 year old videogame except for the spectacular ones, or out of nostalgia.

I almost always wear an overshirt, even when it's unecessary or inappropriate. I wear it open on my shoulders, not providing any real shirt like protection from either prying eyes or the weather. It often makes me look even fatter, not disguising much of anything in terms of bulk. It's a complete waste of effort to find a clean one and put it on, and a waste of water and soap to was them. I do it anyway. I think this may be descended from a few years ago when I wore pants well below my waist and tried to cover exposed crack with long shirts. This is no longer necessary but I have not yet adapted to that. I'm set in my ways.

When I order food from a restaurant and they omit something I rarely complain about it, even if it was delivery and I paid for the missing item. This is even stranger when you consider how scrupulous I am about returning change when I get too much and stuff like that. The thing is, food I don't recieve is food I won't eat, and that's generally a good thing. A smart person might suggest that if I didn't want to eat the food I shouldn't order it in the first place.

Shut up.

I never replace my razors in time, and don't use foam when I shave. This serves no practical purpose.

I can't sleep naked, even if I'm alone in the house, because someone might break in and see my peepee. If someone breaks in having my peepee looked out isn't likely to be my primary concern.

This is just a small sample of the sort of neurotic shit that goes on in my life. I went to campus to see if I can register for classes next semester. I felt like I was being punched in the stomach. (It turns out I can, by the way.) There are people I can't stand seeing or dealing with, and not necessarily because I don't like them.

I couldn't be more Jewish if I had forelocks.
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