Here goes:
- I have to start reading my magazines from the back to front. OK, so I realize that's not too weird and I'm not alone in preferring reading from the back to front. Here's where it gets really weird though. I not only have to pull out all those little cards out of the magazine, I also have to TEAR out ALL pages with double sided ads before I will read it. I won't even attempt to read a magazine unless I've purged as many ads as possible without losing any of the content. So all pages with double sided ads have to go and I'll sit on the couch tearing out paper after paper, throwing them on the floor in a pile. Then when I'm done, I'll sigh with a feeling of accomplishment and anticipation, lay back and settle in for some reading. Oh, did I mention I have to go about this process without really looking at most of the content so I don't already see all the pictures and lose interest? This literally drives my husband INSANE. The kids have lots of collage material though.
- I'm really anal about doing the laundry. Everything is almost always washed on cold regardless of what the label says and most shirts are inside out before going in to the washer. I don't just sort laundry according to darks, whites and colors, I have a whole range of shades. The following are washed with their own kinds: towels, sheets, blacks, dark charcoals and midnight blue, primary colors, whites, pastels and jeans. Then, ALMOST everything is hung up to dry on hangers. I rarely put anything into the dryer other then socks, knickers, jeans, bedding and MAYBE pajamas. Even then everything is put on low and is dried on a short cycle. I will hang everything else up, stretching the fabric if need be to avoid shrinkage, and place them on the curtain rod in the bathroom and on the line in the basement. This ANNOYS everyone a bit because they have to help hang up wet clothes instead of throwing them in the dryer. Plus when family members come they are afraid to touch the clothes for fear that I might freak out. I didn't inherit this habit from my mom. Nope. My own mother commits the most heiness laundry sin of all times. She washes ANY clothing she has, even DELICATE items with towels, sheets, sweats and jeans, ALL in the same load. The washer will be so packed it can barely spin. Whenever she has lived with me or been to visit I chase her around while sprinkling out
holy waterverbal instructions on how she should be washing her clothes. I got this extremely anal and tedious laundry ritual from my grandma and aunt who were raised in the south with clothes lines. Even if they had a dryer, you didn't use it unless there was a blizzard. Supposedly it kept the clothes looking nicer longer as well. I don't know if this is true but I just can't seem to change. When I do the wash I can see them, lining up the seams of a garmet just perfectly with the hanger. If I even try to throw a shirt into the dryer I can hear their admonisions. One advantage is that at least I don't have to fold and put clothes away. Once they're dry, everyone grabs their own clothing and right into the closet it goes. - I clean with paper towels. I can't stand having sponges around. They gross me out and I don't even want to touch them. I also almost always used rubber gloves. I'm teased by all my friends for this. I don't get it. What's so odd about that? Are they like actually TOUCHING the sponges, toilet, sinks, floors and everything else with their BARE hands? *Shudder* I know it's probably not the most environmentally friendly way of cleaning but I do go through a lot of paper towels. In the powder room I keep a paper towel holder for drying hands. I don't want to bother with four kids wiping
God only knows what-bodily secretions?their hands onto towels and hoping they'll keep them neat on the rack. Same goes for their friends and guests. I walk around cleaning with my handy dandynotebook409 bottle and a roll of paper towels. I can clean any surface and just pitch the dirty paper towels. No nasty, dry and shrivled up sponges for me, thank you very much. I give the sign of the cross at the very sight of a sponge. GET BACK YOU FILTHY CESSPOOL PILLOW!! - If I cook eggs I have to remove that white squiggly little thingy-ma-jigger I call an umbilical cord. It's creepy looking and I won't even be able to cook or use eggs without taking a fork or spoon and removing them first. If I order eggs out then I can put it out of my mind but if I see it there in the bowl before scrambling it has to come out. Richard makes fun of me and says it's retarded and there's no such thing as white umbilical cords in eggs. However, when his mom came to visit recently she said the same thing I said about them being umbilical cords and she wants them out of her eggs too. Ah, HA! Even Mooch can't make eggs now without taking it out first. My insanity is contagious. If someone makes me eggs I'll ask like 5 times, are you SURE you got the umbilical cord thing-ma-jigger out first?
- I'm obsessed with vacuuming. I vacuum every day. Some rooms I'll even vacuum twice. I vaccum the baseboards, couch cushions and cobwebs. DAILY. I am still mourning the loss of my Phantom vacuum cleaner that was like the mac daddy cadillac of vacuums. About 3 years ago one of the kids, who will remain nameless,
COUGH Snoobroke it by knocking it down over and over until the cord was severed. Then I killed the replacement vacuum 2 years ago when it wasn't able to keep up with my demands. Now I have a Bissell Cleanview 2. Its holding for now and it does an awesome job picking up cat hair yet I so have my eyes on a purple Dyson. Is it wrong to want to pay $500 for a vaccum cleaner? If you're busy and can do nothing else for your house, vaccum. It will ALWAYS made the room look cleaner then it is. It's like lipstick for a woman's face. If nothing else, put some lipstick on. Plus I actually love to vacuum, as sick as that is. It's therapeutic, watching everything get sucked up and disappear. I once had a neighbor that asked me to restrict my vacuuming before 9pm and wanted to know why in the world I vacuumed so often.
Come on now, you'll have to share your own peculiarities. I know I'm not the only one.