Some time ago I read a good entry in another journal about quirks.

I thought, at the time, that it would make an interesting entry here, but then I figured that it would be stupid.

Well now I'm quite bored, so here goes, my top ten quirks, in no particular order:

1. I hate mayonnaise. Can't stand the stuff. Can't stand the smell, the taste, or even the sight of it. A few years ago I skipped an entire holiday meal because someone had let mayonnaise touch the turkey.

2. Pickle Juice. See the entry for mayonnaise and multiply times ten.

3. If I meet another car at an intersection, and they have the right of way, I will wait until the end of time for them to proceed. I've been known to shut off my car and get out and play cards on my hood before I'd let some idiot who doesn't know any traffic rules out-polite me.

4. If I'm at a bar or a party or wherever, and I get bored, I'll just get up and leave. Only rarely do I even bother to say goodbye to anyone. This is one reason that I normally like to go places alone - no having to wait around for the other person.

5. If you try to make small talk with me within an hour after I wake up you'll be on my shitlist for at least a week. These damn people at work their good mornings and their whattups, they have no idea how much I loathe them in the mornings.

6. If I'm in a group of three or more people, I will almost always shut up and just listen to everyone else. I'm not sure that it's really a quirk, maybe just more of a trait.

7. Unless it's someone I'm really comfortable with, I like to keep a personal space radius of at least five feet at all times. With some people I need ten feet. With some people a thousand miles doesn't seem like enough.

8. I feel most like myself when I'm pining away for someone that's way out of my league.

9. The weirdest thing I ever experienced still freaks me out on a regular basis, and I cannot tell anyone because it was just too damn weird and the only witness was my ex-wife and everybody would figure that I just made the whole thing up.

10. I usually assume that everybody is stupid until they show me otherwise. It's not that I think I'm all that smart, I just think everyone else is a dumbass. I don't count this as a flaw because it doesn't affect how I treat people. Some of my best friends are dumbasses.

(Edited to add a bonus eleventh quirk that someone just reminded me of.)

11. I have this Goldilocks syndrome where I cannot stay comfortable in a bed. I spend my nights wandering between beds and sofas. When I am in a bed I flop around like a dying fish.

I'm just so damn mean.

In my head at least. To others I think I'm usually a pretty nice person.

But in my head...damn.

The things that pop into my head, usually when I'm trying to be funny, would no doubt be met with jaws agape and maybe even slaps were I to ever utter them out loud.

Not yet, but just wait a few years.

Man, that is just an awful thing to think...

Funny, but awful.

In my hung-over state I forgot to write about this Saturday occurrence.

When I first arrived at Rich O's, I walked to the bar to order my first beer and talk with CoffeeDude for a bit.

Before I'd got two feet inside the door this girl sitting at the bar just started freaking out.

That's him! That's the guy! He's right there! I can't believe it! Hey Dave, over here! How are you!

Finally, the recognition I deserved. She was waving and bouncing up and down and I wouldn't be surprised if she wet herself a little.

This moderately attractive (I like brunettes in glasses) girl was as happy to see me as anyone has ever been - even more so than WendysLady. The problem was, I didn't have the slightest idea who in the hell she was.

I scanned my memory of my slightly checkered past, and found nothing. She did look familiar but I just couldn't place who she was.

Well as it turned out, this girl was a friend of one of my sisters, and I had actually met her a couple of times before.

What got GlassesGirl so excited was that she had just been talking to someone about my sister, and in particular my sister's Renaissance Faire obsession, when I walked in.

There I was, living proof that my sister existed and, by extension, proof that there really are people in the world that travel around trying to out-geek each other by dressing up in garb and saying aye and huzzah all the time.

When I was a kid, maybe eight or nine years old, the neighbors across the street had this dog for a while.

The dog would bark constantly, and Mr. Hill would beat the dog. Then the dog would start yelping, and Mr. Hill would beat the dog some more.

I couldn't do anything about it (I was just a kid after all) but I do remember that somebody called the police one time and eventually somebody came and took the dog away.

One thing that's really vivid in my memory is that, even though Mr. Hill would beat the dog nearly every day, the dog would still get all excited and happy when Mr. Hill came home from work. He'd wag his tail so hard his whole body shook, and jump up against the truck door. He just couldn't wait for Mr. Hill to pay attention to him.

The dog had to know that he was going to be abused, but he didn't care. He still loved Mr. Hill and he seemed ever-hopeful that things would be different this time.

I remember hoping that the dog would fight back someday. Perhaps growl at Mr. Hill or maybe even bite him, but he never did.

That abuse was the only attention the dog ever got, and I supposed he had decided, in his little doggy mind, that if his purpose in life was to be a punching bag for Mr. Hill, then so be it. He'd be the bestest, most loyalest punching bag ever!

Even though I thought I understood what was going on in the dog's mind, I still thought it was pretty stupid. I knew I'd never let somebody abuse me like that. I knew I was smarter than a dog, after all!

Even if I can't fight back, I'm at least smart enough to run away.

Eventually.

Friday night sucked. The place was full of idiots that refused to move from the living room area. The only place to sit was the kiddie table, so I sat there and glared at the idiots while I drank first an NABC Tunnel Vision and then a Mad Bitch. I suppose the most interesting thing that happened was that one of the idiots ate an entire calzone, then he ate his girlfriend's calzone, then he ordered and ate an entire thing of lasagna.

Saturday night was much better. Rich O's was only moderately crowded and I was able to grab a seat on the couch pretty quickly.

I had a Robert the Bruce. I've had this before and I like it a lot. Next I had an Avery Old Jubilation, which tastes like a spiced ale to me (in a good way) but I'm told there's really no spice in it. Just a mix of hops. A pretty good beer though.

Throughout the night I spent much of my time feeling bad for a very cute, very unfortunately-named girl who was serving as a designated driver for her brother and another guy that may have been her boyfriend. The poor girl had to sit and watch her charges drink beer after beer and eat pretzel after pretzel while she wasn't offered a single thing. I tried to help ease her boredom by carrying on a mostly one-sided conversation.

I thought this was interesting. The boyfriend(?) has the same birthday that I do, and the unfortunately-named girl has the same birthday as my sister Dina.

Anyway, I should have stopped after the Avery, but I wasn't ready to leave, so I ordered a Tunnel Vision and only got about halfway through it before the alcohol timebomb inside me went off. I raced home and nuked some White Castles and then played pool all night.

Shiprock, in Arizona I think.

Step one: Tell him you'll call him back.

Step two: I don't like this game, and I'm not going to play it anymore.

Today, like most days for the past few weeks, I've spent at least part of the time feeling sorry for myself.

I got to thinking about just why this is.

How did I end up this way?

I'm not wondering about the recent events that have me in such turmoil. Instead, today I'm wondering about the events in my life that made me into this goofball I see in the mirror. This goofball that's been so affected by these events.

How did I end up to be this person that I am, this person that controlled the keys to his own happiness for over a decade, then out of the blue just pitched them to a person that didn't asked for them, didn't expect them, and didn't want them?

A year ago, I could tell you exactly how I came to be. A year ago it all made perfect sense. A life made up of a series of rejections and betrayals and loss had caused me to wall myself in - to pretend that I didn't need anyone besides myself, that I was perfectly content on my own.

I did such a good job of pretending that it all came true. I didn't need anyone else. I was perfectly content.

What the hell happened?

If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be writing an entry like this today I'd have laughed in their face. Pretty much like a certain relative of mine laughed when I stupidly thought he'd be a good person to confide in.

Part of me still wants to laugh. It's all just so absurd.

In a moment of weakness and/or drunkenness I pitched my keys at someone who had their back turned.

They landed on the ground instead, and on the ground they still sit. Mocking me.

(response to message)

Why thank, you. I am feeling better today and even went back to work.

An image I actually rendered on Tuesday but didn't publish until tonight.

I've been sick.