Lists of Things

Well, now I've done it again. I, your humble and appropriately-for-public-office Idiot Mayor of Simpleton, have lost another post. It was passably good, too. I went to put the CD I got for Mrs. Spiffy's VD present ("No, really, it's for you") in my new computer, and without looking too closely, pushed the wrong button. The power button. As windows vaporized one by one from my dual monitors, 35 minutes worth of writing did too. I suppose I've had worse occasions of 'time I'll never get back' - but dang it's frustrating. I should probably compose in a format that auto-saves. Anyway, back to the subject at hand. It's a co-ink-a-dink of epic proportions, since I had started a post about my long-time romance with keeping lists, and then happened upon Wordnerd's site where she tagged me (don't go see unless you're willing to be unwittingly tagged like I was, only if you go now it'll be wittingly and you'll have nobody to blame but yerself) with a 'make a list of six weird things about you that everyone is doing internet phenomenon (and DON'T call it a meme)' thing. A list! Yay! One of a list of my many favorite things! Almost enough to make me lurvitate. Almost. I start most every day with a list of some sort. I created a comb-bound book to contain my work-related lists (spiral notebooks are too easy), because I had a season where I practically wallpapered my little corner of the cube farm with stickynotes. I appear much more organized now, but the days I misplace or can't reach my listbook, I get grumpy. It creates a very seductive illusion of productivity and importance. Besides, once I write something down, I'm free to forget it, since that bit of useless information is no longer cluttering my brain. Appointments, calls to make, paperwork to finish, all can be safely forgotten for it is on a List. Now I have mental capacity for really important things like... uh, like... blog posts? Monty Python quotes? The lyrics of my favorite poem? Well, at least I'm in prestigious company. Einstein reputedly didn't know his own phone number. When an incredulous reporter asked him about it, he asked, "Why should I memorize it, since I know where to find it?" I'm such a listophile, I like to make lists of things I've already done. Shower... check. Shave... check. Breakfast... check. It's comforting to know that before I even clock in I've accomplished so much. The thing that's saved my compulsive list-making life is the discovery of this rule: All lists contain 3 items, no more, no less. That way the important 3 get done. Oh look! My day's already complete! Of course, then you can add another item to keep it at 3... For today's exercise, I'm making an exception to the Rule. Okay, on to my obligations. Here is my List of 6 Weird Things About Biff Spiffy. 1. I like to keep lists. See above. 2. I absolutely love trampolines. I am the most undignified sight you could see on one, but I'll bounce the night away, get into 'rocket wars' with anyone willing, and flail around like a sped on speed for endless hours. I used to have a trampoline, but took it down after witnessing Girl snap her little arm into the shape of an S one evening. Should have happened to me long before it did to her; once I was bouncing with a friend who is roughly my size (think huskypants). He launched me over a fence. It was not pretty. 3. Spiders fascinate and terrify me. Simultaneously. I once watched a wolf spider for several minutes (while on a ladder - 2 stories up), convinced he was looking at me curiously, much like a puppy or billy goat might. Then I turned him into hairy goo with my hammer. I really enjoy studying their creepy, creative web-spinning, prey-stalking, and trying-to-bite-me ways. The very worst thing about spiders is that if one lands on you, unlike other buggy critters, he can't just fly away. Oh no. If you brush at him, he has to either crawl all the way wherever he's going, or rappel - and I can't have that. Jibblies. If you want more reasons I'm skeeved out, go here and scroll to January 17. 4. Q-tips are more important to me than any other part of my morning hygiene rituals. We can run out of toilet paper, and there are ways to work around that. Shampoo gone? Use soap, or just rinse vigorously, it'll keep until tomorrow. But if I can't squeak out my ears, it bugs me all day long. 5. I don't have any fetishes. As someone who has spent some significant time on The Interwebs, I'm beginning to think I truly am weird for not being into feet or midgets in drag or bikers wearing diapers chasing nurses dressed like smurfs. I do like a goofy sense of humor though. Oh, and good spelling. Yeah, I'd have to say spelling is a turn-on for me. 6. I'm known as the Polite Police at my house. There is nothing that drives me up one wall and down the other like poor table manners, particularly open-mouth chewing. Gaah! Celery, carrots, and tortilla chips are noisy, and I can understand that. But when I can hear you masticating a banana or slurping soup, I just go out of my head. And, please don't hold your fork like a shovel. Thank you.