just some things

i bite the skin off my lips when i’m concentrating or stressed (ditto the quicks on the sides of my nails, until they bleed and i don’t notice, ugh). sometimes i think i do it ‘cos the sting keeps me awake, or alert or something.
i hold pencils between my teeth and forget they’re there until someone points them out.
i poke pens into my hair and forget they’re there until someone points them out.
i bend paper clips while on the phone and usually end up chewing on them idly (jeez, orally fixated much?)
i watch people’s hands when they speak.
i feel naked if i leave the house without earrings in (wtf)
i love the smell of snow.
i crack my knuckles.
i love the click-clonk sound of walking across a room in high heels. (i am getting more and more addicted to higher and higher heels.....hmm).
i drink too much coffee and forget to eat most of the time.
i sleep curled on my side with one arm under my head.
i am a poetry nerd; i still get a kick out of knowing something's in trochaic tetrameter. (oi vey). i like onomatopoeia, too, and words that rattle on the tongue.
oh, i like semi-colons, too, speaking of word nerdery.
i love flying (in a plane...duh). especially taking off. ooh, and turbulence. i looooove turbulence, whee!
i run my fingers along walls and railings and fences when i walk somewhere. i pick leaves off street trees and crush them to see how they smell, too.
i was terrified of skeletons when i was little. (one specific "skellington" behind my door, actually. i think it was probably so that i could con my folks into leaving the door open so’s i could listen to their conversations….brat)
i have annoying hyper-flexible muscles that stretch too far.
i doodle spirals when i'm on the phone, or listening to someone. if i'm at home and don’t have any paper i’ll usually end up with an elaborate biro-tattoo on my leg.
i like drawing on skin :)
i like stripes. stars, too, just not together.
i add things up on my fingers when i don't think not to.
i have a stationery fetish (actually, lots of journos i know do); i love the smell of something newly printed.
i fold little cranes if i find a square piece of paper.
one of my my best friends died when we were both 20. i still reach for the phone to call him. often.

you know that secret little bit that you don’t tell everyone 'cos they'd think you're a braggart, where you look in the mirror and think yeah, that's ok?
i remember...
a friend (remember george?) who used to ponce about in front of the mirror... "see, if I put a bit of meat on, and squish these (hoiks boobs) up like this, i reckon i look a bit of alright!"
you wandered around naked in my flat, marvelling at how unselfconscious you felt when you were with me.
you danced excitedly in your new dress, hugging its folds around your curves.
you giggled and showed off new underwear while we were stopped at the lights.
you stood on my balcony and sang silly ditties to me in your underwear.
you agreed with me when i said you were pretty.
when i dig underneath, i ... don’t have it. that bit. oh, i have it about work things; i'm great at my job. i'm a excellent writer (if i pull my finger out), i'm an even better COS. i can juggle stuff and deal with people. i can even say i'm good at all that with some pride, without cringing too much. there's not even a smidge of me that can do the same about how i look. just ugh, all the time. i can get by if i don’t look in mirrors. in fact...there’s not really very much of me as a person that i happily look at and think yep, that’s me, and that’s a bit of alright. i am sure there used be some.
is not very healthy. needs to be changed.

eh?

well, that was unexpected, and mildly frightening.
still, the world frightens you, so ... so what, eh? once more into the breach?
i think so :)

sometimes

i wish, i wish, i wish, sometimes, that i just did not love you so much.

what is this thing?

...that sits on my chest and makes it hard to breathe?
...that clenches my throat and pricks my eyes with tears?
...that makes me bite my lips; press nails into my hands; stifle a cry; shake my shuddering spine.

strange. when i write that down on the page, how close it looks to joy.