Personality quirks

[TheEarl]

I was thinking the other day about little details that make people who they are. For example, I always write "Remember Sammy Jankis" on my hand whenever I've got something that I have to remember. Seeing that reminds me that I've got something to be reminded of and that makes me remember.

Now, that would be a really interesting quirk to put into a character. I'd bet there's all kind of play you could get off a character with that level of detail. However, stuff like that's too close to me and I find it very difficult to write.

So I thought, "Hey, why don't I give it to other writers! See if they want to use it. Maybe they'll tell you about their personality quirks in return, and one of them will fit with one of your underdeveloped characters."

So I did.

The Earl

 

[cloudy]

I despise writing in black or red ink, for some weird reason....blue, for me.

I want some sort of cover on me when I sleep, even in the summer, but I like one foot to be out.

I growl at people in the morning before I've had my coffee - literally.

 

[Liar]

Funky idea for a thread.

I catch myself mouthing the song lyrics to my current ear worms when I don't even hear the music in my head. It's worrying for two reasons - first of all I wonder who was "hearing it" and controlling my lips, second of all, people look at me in odd ways when I do.

 

[impressive]

I want some sort of cover on me when I sleep, even in the summer, but I like one foot to be out.

OMG -- Me, too!

ETA: I can never -- EVER -- sleep with socks on.

 

[carsonshepherd]

Why not just write what you have to remember on your hand?

Or better yet on your wrist... it doesn't wash off as fast.

Quirks: I always get too hot in stores. I never go anywhere without something to drink. I cry at movies, especially ones about animals.

ETA: I always wear socks to bed.

 

[cloudy]

OMG -- Me, too!

ETA: I can never -- EVER -- sleep with socks on.

me neither.

my shoes come off the minute I hit the door, hence the pile of them at the front of the house. My bra is next.

If my SO has long hair, I twiddle it with my fingers when I'm sleepy.

(some of these are embarassing)

 

[CTGalPal]

OMG -- Me, too!

ETA: I can never -- EVER -- sleep with socks on.

OMG me too...I will walk around the house all day with my socks on but then I climb into bed, I kick them off.

I have a weird habit of talking with one hand on my hip.

 

[zeb1094]

I want some sort of cover on me when I sleep, even in the summer, but I like one foot to be out.

OMG! Me too! Except for the foot thing. Mine have to be under the covers without socks with enough covers to tuck in under my feet to sort of prop them up. Drives the wife bananas 'cuz she likes them tucked in at the bottom of the bed. Thank god for King Size beds!

 

[BlackShanglan]

ETA: I always wear socks to bed.

I always knew that you were fundamentally perverse, wrong, and twisted.

Thank goodness.

(But SOCKS in BED?! Dear God, man.)

 

[TheEarl]

Why not just write what you have to remember on your hand?

Or better yet on your wrist... it doesn't wash off as fast.

Because it's a funky cultural reference. Quite often I might write that and what I needed to remember.

I'm weird. Sue me.

The Earl

 

[Liar]

I always get too hot in stores.

Yup, that's me too.

 

[Guest]

I've tried to wear socks to bed because I get evil cold feet, but they come off while I'm sleeping. I have no idea how. I just find them the next day.

I think it's one of the few quirks I have that my husband HASN'T given to a character in one of his stories.

 

[BlackShanglan]

He loved to tell pointless jokes that had no end, or whose end was intended to be "when people start yelling and throwing things at you." Then he'd sit there laughing that innocent, overwhelming chuckle - "What? Me? Why are you mad?"

He had an incredible passion on the topic of forks. He refused to eat with his daughter's three-pronged forks (despite living in the same house) - but not, lest he be thought crotchety, from personal preference. No, it was because they were "dangerous."

He believed that glasses could remember what had been in them. When he wanted a beer, it had to be in a glass that had never, in its entire lifespan, held milk. Sometimes I wondered if my mother might not get up in the night and pour full-fat milk into those glasses and let it stand in them out of sheer defiance.

He liked to putter. Usually directly before dinner. No more sure sign that he was headed to the garage could be had than the words "dinner's ready!" No matter how many notices he'd been given that a meal was imminent, once everyone had sat down there would inevitably be a lengthy pause and then someone would have to go chase him down. No one would dream of starting the meal without him.

He drank 7-Up with five maraschino cherries in it. It's what he always ordered at his club, where they called him "Bugsy." They all came to his funeral and said a sweet group requiem for "our pal, Bugsy."

He had a temperature tolerance of about two degrees. The world around him was inevitably too hot or too cold. I've seen him run someone through at least two full cycles of microwaving his coffee because it was too cold, then adding cold water because it was too hot, then back to the microwave again. He never minded the increasing laughter that would accompany these directives. Sometimes I think it's why he gave them.

He played the ukulele. Or at least, he would take down the one he bought on a vacation and strum at it until my father begged for mercy.

He loved cards, especially pinochle and cribbage. He had a special and unique talent of playing pinochle in perfect observation of the rules, but so as to drive my father absolutely insane. Every time my father would end up berating him for sand-bagging his aces, he'd sit there with that smile and that chuckle again - "What? Me? What did I do?" Eventually there would be the argument about who didn't know how cheat right.

I still miss him. I think I always will.

Shanglan

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

Why not just write what you have to remember on your hand?

Or better yet on your wrist... it doesn't wash off as fast.

What about, "CUT HERE" on the wrist? Be a real ice breaker at parties.

Imp, Cloudy, CT, me too.

Rumple Foreskin

 

[Aurora Black]

I growl at people in the morning before I've had my coffee - literally.

Ditto on that. No matter how much sleep I get (8 hours minimum), I'll still bite someone's head off if they wake me before I'm good and ready.

I always write in pen, and I mean always. I can't stand pencils, and I'll do anything to avoid using them even if it means writing something in ink that I can't erase. You should see my writing notes, they're full of scratched out mistakes and/or changes. All written in ink.

I have a habit of chewing a lot of gum while I'm writing. When I really get going on a story, I can go through a whole pack of gum in a matter of hours.

I also have to have something sweet handy while I'm typing, either a candy bar or tea with a lot of sugar in it.

 

[TheEarl]

I've tried to wear socks to bed because I get evil cold feet, but they come off while I'm sleeping. I have no idea how. I just find them the next day.

I think it's one of the few quirks I have that my husband HASN'T given to a character in one of his stories.

Interesting screen name. Did you know that, as a gemstone, malachite is naturally stripey in dark and light green stratas. It's major property is that of enhancing emotion; carrying or wearing a piece of malachite is a guaranteed way to make your highs higher and your lows lower.

Incidentally, I have a rapacious information base about crystals and gemstones, specifically their Wiccan/Pagan properties and always carry at least two of my extensive collection with me in my left-hand pocket, depending on what kind of help I think I'll need from that day.

The Earl

 

[TheEarl]

Deleted

 

[carsonshepherd]

I always knew that you were fundamentally perverse, wrong, and twisted.

Thank goodness.

(But SOCKS in BED?! Dear God, man.)

My feet get cold.

 

[carsonshepherd]

Beautiful about the grandfather, Shanglan

 

[Aurora Black]

I wear socks to bed, too. Depends on the weather.

 

[impressive]

Damn you, Shang!

If he had but one thing on his "to do" list for the day, he had to do it the moment he finished breakfast. If it involved a place of business, he was there when they opened their doors.

The garage was a mess, but he knew where every nail, every screw, every tool, every roll of duct tape was stashed. On the inside of the garage doors, he wrote notes to himself -- birthdays, anniversaries, ball game scores, how high the flood waters got in '68 and '72 -- with a super fat marker. It was his journal, of sorts.

I don't think he ever threw anything away. The entire neighborhood -- really, the entire town -- asked him first when some odd bit was needed, and if he didn't have it, he took it upon himself to find it (and usually did). His mother (a wicked old bitch) had cookie tins full of buttons that she'd salvaged from every article of clothing ever discarded -- so he inherited the pack rat gene. My brother & I used to sort the buttons, not that they ever stayed sorted.

He played parleys every Sunday. Never bet more than few bucks, but if anything interfered with his ritual, he got rather cranky. I would hang with him on Sunday afternoons, watching football, and he'd give me a swig of his Iron City when mom wasn't looking.

Every summer, he planted tomatoes. He tended them with great care -- and gave every single one of them away. Hated the damned things, but loved the joy they brought others.

Each night before he went to bed, he'd set out a bowl, spoon, and box of cereal for the morning. He left early -- before I got up -- but I often heard him filling his metal lunch pail. Thermos always went in last. His morning sounds were ritualistic.

His collection of ball caps was legendary, but they HAD to have a dark inner band. He wouldn't keep the ones with white on the inner rim. He'd give 'em away before his sweaty brow had a chance to soil them. For the longest time, I thought he slept in a ball cap. He even wore one to my wedding. His buddies got it for him. It read, "Father of the Bride." It's in my keepsake chest now -- along with his watch and his pocket knife.

 

[BlackShanglan]

Loved it, Imp. Especially the image of him standing outside of the business waiting for it to open.

Shanglan

 

[BlackShanglan]

Beautiful about the grandfather, Shanglan

*nuzzles*

Thanks, dear one. He was a beautiful man.

 

[Aurora Black]

Did I miss something? Are these real people or characters?

 

[BlackShanglan]

Did I miss something? Are these real people or characters?

Mine was my grandfather on my father's side.