This is why I’m The Nut, Part I

I don’t have the attention span for real writing today. But that’s okay. The hot trend on all the popular websites right now seems to be lists anyway, so let’s try one of those. If you’ve ever wondered how I came to call myself The Nut, well, this is by no means an exhaustive list, but it’s a start…

13 Reasons That I would Be Considered “Eccentric” If I Had More Money

1. I’m not a germophobe, but I will still obsessively re-clean things that other people have already cleaned because I’m convinced they didn’t do a thorough enough job.

Sometimes my husband forgets that the backs of plates get dirty too.

2. No really, I’m not a germophobe. I’m the kind of person that finds old M&Ms under the couch cushions and just shrugs and eats them even though I can’t remember the last time I actually bought M&Ms, in fact I’m not actually sure I have bought M&Ms since we got our new couch which means this is someone else’s old M&Ms in which case THEIR LOSS.

Free couch? I think you mean FREE CANDY, amirite?

3. I have rules for eating certain types of candy. I am not joking, and no, I don’t know how I came up with them. All I know is if I’m sitting at home and I crack open a bag of Skittles, there is procedure to be followed. First I segregate everything by colour, because apparently I’m a candy racist. But wait! Then I figure out which colour has the fewest candy pieces, and I eat the excess candies of all the other colours until they all have the same amount. See? EQUALITY, motherfuckers.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

I may then commence eating one from each colour in ROYGBIV order until they are all gone. Often I will line the candies up in a rainbow first to facilitate this, but that step is optional.

Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know.

4. I hate math, but I love numbers. Well, certain numbers. I wouldn’t call myself superstitious, it’s just that certain numbers are obviously better than others. Nutty Hubby likes the number 7. 7’s okay, but 3 is clearly superior. 9 is great too because it’s 3×3. And 27, oh, be still my beating heart. I hate my birth month because April is a 4 and 4s are awful. Prime numbers are definitely better than all the other numbers. Even numbers are inherently inferior to odd numbers, but squares and other powers of even numbers are acceptable. Basically, if you are ever out with me and there is a number anywhere, just know that I am analyzing it as we speak.

I’m not into numerology, though. That would be crazy.

5. I remember numbers better than names. I will forget your first name .037 seconds after I meet you, but tell me your phone number, your high school locker combination or your credit card number and I will remember them forever. Also, if you’re giving me your credit card number, be doll and rattle off the expiry and security code too. Girlfriend needs a new pair of dancin’ shoes.

Awwwwkward.

6. As someone who graduated with a degree in linguistics, I know prescriptive grammar is wrong, but deep down I still have the soul of a grammar Nazi. And I don’t care what your updated dictionary says, “LITERALLY” WILL NEVER MEAN “FIGURATIVELY”.

The frequency with which I quote Professor Farnsworth is getting alarming.

7. I am an anagramming, word puzzle solving, letter pattern seeking machine. Most of my friends won’t play Scrabble with me anymore. Ditto with Upwords. Also I once solved a Wheel of Fortune puzzle BEFORE THERE WERE ANY LETTERS ON THE BOARD and I half expected Satan to rise out of the floor and announce, “Congratulations, you passed the test. You’re my new deputy. Now come along, we have work to do.”

I guess this is a bad time to mention I’m not so great with high temperatures…

8. I treat every license plate as an acronym and I spend my commutes coming up with the best phrases for the ones around me to fit their attached cars and drivers. Personalized plates are cheating. Unless your personalized plate is insanely witty (like the adorable orange and white Smart car I saw which was dubbed CRMSCL) or business-related, do you really need one? Is it that important that everyone knows that DAVE is driving that Honda Civic? “You know who was in front of me on the way to work today? DAVE14!” “Oh my god, really? I thought DAVE14 lost his license after he caused that four car pileup last June.” “No, no, the pileup was DAVE4. Haha, could you imagine? No, DAVE14’s a total saint, always waves when I let him into my lane.”

But you’ll never be The Assman, DAVE14.

9. There is always music in my head. Always. Sometimes it’s a whole song, sometimes it’s just one line on repeat because I can’t remember the rest of the lyrics, and sometimes it’s my brain composing absolutely stunning symphonies that I will never be able to write down because I suck at music notation on paper and I can’t always get to a piano to record what my brain is coming up with. Nut Radio is on the air 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and there are no commercial breaks. If I ever snap someday and commit a crime so heinous it lands me in solitary confinement, at least I know I’ll have DJ Brain to while away the hours with me.

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net Read more at http://explosm.net/comics/

10. Speaking of incessant sounds, you have no idea how glad I was to find out that misophonia is an actual thing, because for the longest time I thought I was just a heinous intolerant bitch for getting so inexplicably angry about other people chewing loudly or habitually clicking pens. And I get seriously angry. I’ve had to get up and leave rooms before over it. But I like that it has a name, it’ll make my trial sound more interesting when the wrong person pops gum in my ear at the wrong time and DJ Brain and I earn our one-way ticket to solitary.

He had it coming.

11. I do not like the thought of anything happening to my fingers. Or anyone’s fingers. I had an irrational hatred of Sam Neill for years after I saw The Piano because of the scene where he cuts Ada’s finger off.

Goddammit, Sam.

It’s weird, because I’m not squeamish about anything else. I have dislocated three of my limbs and popped them back into place myself, assuring onlookers, “I’m okay, I’m okay…” I used to watch Operation on TLC (back when the L actually stood for “Learning”) and my mom would come in the room and get grossed out and I would be like, “Mooooom, grow up, they’re putting this guy’s knee back together and it’s SO. COOL.”

Seriously, TLC, what the fuck happened?

But all bets are off when you fuck with my hands. One time when I was working as a cashier, I whacked my hand on the metal bag dispenser hard enough that this huge swollen bruise started forming on the top of my middle finger. It looked like someone had injected a bubble of blue ink under my skin. Immediately, my entire body went ice cold. I tried to stay calm. I kept serving customers. But my vision started to darken, and kept darkening, until I could barely make out basic shapes. I became aware of a ringing in my ears, and all external sounds were gradually drowned out by a roaring like a tidal wave inside my head. I’d never fainted before, but I could tell that a blackout was imminent. I held it together long enough to ask the current customer to excuse me for a moment, and then I bolted for the service desk. The cashier on duty was kind enough to go cover my till while I collapsed on a stool and waited for my heart to stop doing hummingbird impressions.

So that’s the story of how I almost fainted over a stupid bruise the size of a goddamn pea. And now I need to find time in my schedule to go wrestle a bear or something and prove I’m not a complete and total wuss.

Okay, I never said it was going to be a BIG bear…wait, where’s his mama… OH DEAR GOD WHY

12. Do you know that I used to have trouble reaching word limits on school papers? Okay, you can stop laughing now. Seriously. Okay, yeah, it is kinda funny. But for some reason I am still under the delusion that writing more than 200 words is hard despite the fact that nearly every post on this blog ends up ten times longer than I think it will be. I honestly didn’t intend to write this much today, but apparently I can’t even do a simple list post without ending up with a thousand and a half words on the page.

Sigh.

13. Titty sprinkles. Okay, so that doesn’t really have anything to do with this list, but I was getting off track anyway and I just felt it needed to be said. Because reasons.

Morgan Freeman. Morgan Freeman Morgan Freeman Morgan Freeman.

 

Enjoy your weekend, everybody.

 

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15 thoughts on “This is why I’m The Nut, Part I

  1. That number’s thing is very cool. I have no memory for numbers. I can’t even remember my own phone number, let alone anybody elses. I was super impressed by you until you started talking about dislocated joints. Haha that can’t be good to watch. And the sound ! *skin crawling* 🙂

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  2. I also require evening out the skittles before consuming. I still know my locker combo from high school (33-21-54) and my student number (883022816) and my credit card number… Hold on. It expires on 07/17 but that is all I will tell you because I need my own shoes and I can’t remember your name 😉
    I am an anagrammer and acronym girl as well. I have also solved WOF puzzles before they get that first letter out. The rest, I, literally, can’t lay claim to. Thanks for the crazy lesson!

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  3. I keep going further and further back into your posts and I can’t seem to stop. LOVE your humor, UNDERSTAND and RELATE to your hang ups and am intensely impressed that you’ll throw out a “motherfucker” without even having to look at the keyboard, and that wins me over every time!

    I’ll be adding you to my sidebar as well as expressing some blogger love in an upcoming post (probably after Tuesday because it’s a 3 day weekend and everyone is drunk right now).

    Please stop in and enjoy my blog as well. Just as a warning (not that you need it), “fuck” is my favorite word.

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    • “Fuck” and related combinations of it are the best parts of the English language as far as I’m concerned, although I do enjoy using more inventive swears when there are young ears around (“Oh shiitake mushrooms…” is popular with Nutty Hubby and I). Also, joke’s on you because I already started following you last week after WordPress recommended you to me through whatever stalker witchcraft it uses to figure out what I’ll like, and as usual it was right on the money.

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  4. I like my personalized plate! But I remember the license plates from my other two cars and my mother’s car (15 years ago) that were all standard plates. But I also am good with the number thing too.

    I was “banned” from watching wheel of fortune with some people because I could guess quickly (but not with 0 letters!).

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  5. I was nodding in agreement throughout most of this post. I couldn’t even stop when I realized I probably looked like the world’s doofiest bobble-head ever. I love that someone else sorts candy colors and eats it accordingly. I totally dig the fact that you can watch the icky surgeries and that without batting an eyelash (that saying has always bothered me a bit, I mean, what precisely is an eyelash batting anyway? Since they say a persons bats their lashes when trying to get something they want, which makes me wonder exactly what drugs people were on when they came up with these witty little phrases. Just sayin’.) People thought I was bizarre for watching my E.R. shows and such back before TLC turned stupid. I was so happy when I found out that Discovery Fit & Health still shows them, I actually did a spazzy little woohoo! dance. I totally agree with the whole distrust of others cleaning abilities thing. I have this whack-a-do thing where, whenever I go out to eat, I absolutely will not let my silverware touch the table. They have to be on a napkin or on my plate. This may sound silly, but have you seen the quick slap wash they do on those tables?? Who knows how raunchy those rags they use are and I have seen kids snotting and slobbering all over those tables and the 5 second wipe up job they do to clean the table is in no way completely removing nasty snot or slobber germs. And I just don’t understand why people get so testy about playing Scrabble with someone who just happens to be rather awesome at it.
    I must say, you made me giggle with this one 🙂

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    • Yeah, idiomatic expressions are weird. I thought the ones in English were bad but then I learned a bunch of other languages and I was like, nope, English is comparatively sane and that’s scary.

      Oh. My. God. Do you ever do the thing where you lean to the side and look at the table at an angle so the light will catch any streaks or other crap those filthy towels left behind? That’s how I judge which restaurants to trust and which ones I won’t so much as lean my elbows on if I’m not wearing long sleeves. I love fancy restaurants where you can watch them swap out the used tablecloth for a clean one before the next group of diners are seated.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Great post. Three things:
    1. I also refuse to acknowledge the new and incorrect definition for “literally.” Can we start a movement?
    2. I just got a new license plate issued to me. It starts with “2BJ” I didn’t pick it, but I’m just choosing to roll with it.
    3. Thank you for the Morgan Freeman picture. Brilliant.

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  7. I Sliced off the tip of my index finger to the first knuckle with a 20,000 rpm miniature saw blade of a somewhat fine nature , and drove myself ( with the tip ) to the hospital in a 1968 VW Bus ( stick shift ) walked calmly into the emergency room and said quite politely I needed to see a Doctor pretty quickly , to which the nurse replied ” Can you wait over there ….>>>>>” and then when I began to stagger a slight bit from the blood loss she changed her perspective a little and caught me with a wheel chair just as I fell.
    The Radiologist was quite interested in the Blade that I was using ( as he was also a surgeon) and said he wanted one if would bring it to him .

    Just so you feel ok about smashing your finger …..

    And oh yeah ,….umm #9 , So , So #9 ….May I Borrow that Picture ?

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    • Yeah, um, no. I could probably have my whole hand taken off and be cool about it, but one finger and it’s the goddamn end of the world for me. I like your radiologist, though.

      If you clicky the piccy in #9 it will take you straight to the comic where they have all sorts of convenient sharing/embedding buttons because Cyanide and Happiness is awesome like that.

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  8. Pingback: 33. | Spoken Like A True Nut

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