Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Stifling my inner freak

I've discovered since living with Daddy-O I have some really weird habits. Or if you don't necessarily want to call them habits, you could say there are some strange things I like to do. And since I live here, I don't do those things because... well, I guess I don't want anyone seeing me do them. But I don't mind sharing...

I like to make bread dough while drinking glasses of wine while wearing my pajamas. And I usually play big band music or Rogers & Hammerstein scores and sing along. Often time, the bread never comes to fruition because I knead it too much. I'm really working out frustrations and I enjoy the process of whacking, pounding and banging the dough around that it bakes up really shittily so I usually toss it before baking. And when I'm not singing and dancing around, I'm usually talking to the pile of dough, swearing at it and calling it by names of people who make me angry. Yup. I've stopped bread dough abuse for the last 11 months.

On weekends I often used to put my jammies on when I got home from school, around 330 in the afternoon and not take them off until Monday morning when I went back to school. I would mostly lay around, sleep, nap, read, talk to myself, and just do nothing (maybe make a batch of bread dough). I might grade, I might listen to music, I might grade, I might read. But mostly I would lay on my bed or on the couch and watch one movie after another after another. I wouldn't even answer the phone. I wouldn't shower. I would eat mac and cheese at 2 am for dinner or just have popcorn for breakfast. Or eat crackers. The goal was to "lay". And do nothing. I haven't done this since I've been here.

You can't just stay in your jammies for 60 hours when there's another person in the house unless you're deathly ill. It's weird to the other person and they get all worried. And part of that fun is the not talking to or associating with other humans. If I did that here, I would have to talk to Daddy-O and if I'm gonna talk to him I might as well do it in street clothes and be ready to go somewhere since I'm already in regular clothes, with shoes next to the front door. Ya know?

Nor do I dance around in my underwear and sing in my hairbrush, pretending to be giving a concert at Carnegie Hall. I also don't read letters from old boyfriends aloud and make fun of their grammar. (I usually drank wine when I did this.) I also don't talk to the movies on tv, throw food at the screen, or trash talk the cat, mostly because I don't have a cat. I also don't get out all my shoes and try them on and talk to them. (Hmmmmm, that one even sounds weird to me.) I also don't play my favorite game: get either a really bad action movie or find a soap opera on the Spanish channel. Then I put it on mute. And I write my own dialogue and I do voices. I don't really 'write' it down though; I just lay there and make it up aloud.

Maybe it's a good thing that I'm here and am giving up all these unusual little hobbies for things that are more productive and involve interaction with real humans rather than my tv and a wine bottle? Oh hell, we all know I'm lying. We know that as soon as I have my own place again I'll be back to my old habits of weirdness.

One weird chick,


Hecate said...

You can't just stay in your jammies for 60 hours when there's another person in the house unless you're deathly ill.

I do this almost every weekend! I love jammie day. My husband has gotten so used to it that if I do decide to get dressed he asks me where I'm going. LOL

Maggie said...

Hecate- your hubby is so funny! On my list of potential mate musts is that he has to be able to deal with the occasional jammie weekend.

Hecate said...

The kids will ask me that too. If I'm dressed when they come home from school and it's not a work day, they ask where I have gone.

Hmm, maybe I spend too much time in my jammies. Is that even possible? LOL