My Week 199: I’m Not The Only One

The internet is a scary and dark place sometimes, but it does have its uses. In fact, on occasion, it can actually be a comfort. Before the advent of social media and search engines, I’m sure people lived in frightened little bubbles, not sure if what they were feeling was normal. Now of course, we’re often frightened in a GIGANTIC way, but at least we aren’t in bubbles anymore. What the internet has taught me mostly is that the things I thought were strange and quirky about myself (“mydangblog…strange and quirky?!” I hear you whispering in shock) are traits that a great many other people share. Imagine 100 years ago not knowing that having upwards of 8 decorative pillows on your bed was perfectly reasonable? Or that there were other people who not only knew what “the good tea towel” was, they also got upset when someone used it to wipe the counter?

Recently, I have discovered that several things that I thought were unique and unusual about myself are quite common. I learned this on Twitter.

1)

I was shocked to learn that I am NOT the only person who does this. Whenever I take a plate of chicken out to the BBQ, I grab the tongs, and the first thing I do, immediately, is to click the tongs together, like “Clang, c-clang, clang”. The only difference between me and Wil Wheaton (the author of this tweet) is that I don’t REALLY do it to make sure they work. I mean, that’s part of it for sure, but for me, it’s more of a swashbuckler-y type thing. I like to imagine that I’m a grilling female Errol Flynn, and when I clang them, I also do a little lunge and a quick parry. I sometimes end with a flourish and a bow because that’s how I roll.

2)

Even though I work for a secret agency, technically I am NOT a spy, and anyone who knows me knows that is true, because I do exactly what this person’s tweet says. I have two dresses with pockets, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve been complimented on them SOLELY because of the pockets. The other day at work, a colleague was wearing a new dress, and when we told her how nice it was, she immediately said, “It has pockets!” Then we all stood around saying, “Ooh—pockets!” while she modelled using them for us, which is to say that she twirled around with her hands IN the pockets. It was awesome. Is there a male equivalent of this?

Frank: Hey Jerry, we really like your tie.
Jerry: Thanks guys! It’s a clip-on!
All: Ooh.

3)

The identical thing happened to me two weeks ago, only I didn’t call 911, I called Ken.

Ken: What’s going on?
Me: So…I went to Winners after work and bought some new workout clothes.
Ken: Nice.
Me: Then I worked out.
Ken: Good for you.
Me: And now I am stuck half in and half out of my new sports bra. It was fine going on, but I’m currently unable to get it off. I’m calling you with the arm that’s NOT trapped in it.
Ken: Um…can you hook it onto a doorknob and then, like, drop yourself out of it or something?
Me: I don’t think you understand physics.
Ken: Gravity. Can you wait for your roommate to come home? She can help you.
Me: You mean, she could grab it and pull it off me, and then I would be naked in front of her? No.

Eventually, with a Herculean effort that involved almost dislocating one shoulder, I got it off. But now I know that this is a common occurrence, because not only did I see the above tweet, but my friend Bryce Warden of wasthatmyoutloudvoice just wrote a post called “It’s A Death Trap” about a similar experience with a swimming suit top (click on the link to read it. It’s very funny).

4)

A while ago, Ken and I had a family get together, and someone left a spoon behind. It was a f*cking weird spoon, all flat and plain and whatnot, completely unlike all my other normal, human spoons. But every time I reached into the cupboard to grab a spoon, IT was the one I always came out with. Once, I actually said out loud to it, “I hate you, stupid spoon.” Then one day, I got fed up, and I threw it in the garbage. So I apologize to whatever family member it belonged to, but seriously, if I come to your house and see the rest of your weird-ass spoons, they’re all going in the trash.

5)

This is kind of like the opposite of Number 4, and while the person who wrote this tweet doesn’t understand proper punctuation (and thanks to the internet, I know I’m not the ONLY one who cares about things like this), it’s true. Just the other day, Ken came into the room. My first reaction was to say, “What are you doing?!” His response was to pause for a moment, so that he could do a mental scan to try and figure out why I was asking him that.

Ken: Um…nothing?
Me: Why are you using my mug?
Ken: (nervously scoffs) This isn’t your mug.
Me: Uh, yes it is.
Ken: No, it’s not—your name’s not written on it.
Me: There’s a giant f*cking “S” on both sides, Ken.
Ken: We have tons of other mugs. Use one of those.
Me: I could offer you THE SAME ADVICE, KEN!!

And now, I have to hide my mug. Oh well, he DOES respect the “good tea towel” and he thinks it’s perfectly normal that I fence with BBQ tongs, so that’s something.

Black and White Challenge Week 2

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65 thoughts on “My Week 199: I’m Not The Only One”

  3. I clang my tongs too! And my weird cutlery is a tiny knife (not a butter knife even) that I always get mad if I accidentally pick it up instead of a regular one. I can’t throw it away though since it’s my mothers. 😂

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  5. I did the same thing with tongs yesterday but they were really weird tongs.

    I went to college in a tiny college town in East Texas, and I was convinced I was the only one who read weird books, listened to weird music, and was into weird politics. It was kind of my identity. Then the internet ruined that and taught me that no matter how weird the stuff I was into was, there were hundreds of thousands of other people who got there first.

    Which is fine.

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    • It’s kind of a comfort knowing that there are all kinds of people out there who are happily weird. I always like it when I start to google something, and it autofills–then I know that I’m not the only one who wants to know why my cat is an asshole or whatever!

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  6. I, too, am a proud tong clicker! When I bought these tongs in Bed, Bath, and Beyond years ago, I practiced clicking, right there in the store. I found the cashier watching me. “If you grill, you understand,” I said.

    Never had the bra problem, but my wife is getting ready to buy a new bra. As I’ve progressed in life, I’ve discovered that bras (and how they fit) are very important to women. I think of it as being like shoes, you know, you need the right fit.

    Yes, was with with a spy unit. Military, though. No one wore dresses and everyone had pockets.

    But, oh, the mugs. My wife and I each have our personal daily use mugs. WE DO NOT USE EACH OTHER’S MUG. What are we, animals?

    Love the post, as usual. Cheers.

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  8. I’ve seen some of these tweets and they are all bang on the money. I especially identify with No. 4, only not an item of cutlery; a clothes peg. I accidentally came home with a clothes peg from somewhere else and it is the bane of wash day. It’s always the first one I pick out and I hate it. I can’t ditch it because it works and that would be wasteful. But I will never ever ever use it.

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  9. I never compliment women, not even on their clothing, although my wife has said I could say something nice about a new outfit once in a while, but maybe I should. I understand too little women’s clothing has pockets even though women need pockets just as much as men.
    Anyway I think we all do the tongs thing but I don’t have that weird piece of cutlery. I do have a weird piece of cutlery–a flat three-tined fork I picked up in college and have kept ever since. It always reminds me of the poem “Fork” by Charles Simic:

    This strange thing must have crept
    Right out of hell.
    It resembles a bird’s foot
    Worn around the cannibal’s neck.

    As you hold it in your hand,
    As you stab with it into a piece of meat,
    It is possible to imagine the rest of the bird:
    Its head which like your fist
    Is large, bald, beakless, and blind.

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  12. We have a weird fork. And a weird dessert spoon. I hate them both. We have so many weird tea spoons that ‘normal’ is now in the minority but I’m embracing the diversity.
    I don’t think clip-on ties are “oooh!” and I doubt if any item of male clothing will generate an “ooh, pockets!” type response. Unless it’s actual James Bond spywear: “…and behind the lapel there’s a stash of mini stun grenades”.
    The thing that did make me coo (and which I point out proudly to other people) is in the boot (aka trunk) of my 2004 Toyota Celica (black, sporty 2+2 coupe with spoilers and body kit) there are two little hooks on which to hang the handles of your shopping bags so they don’t roll around in the back. Very much an “oooh!” moment. 🙂

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  13. I didn’t have time to read this yesterday, but I am so glad it was the first thing I read this morning. Laughter is a perfect way to start the day. I was laughing so much, my husband stopped what he was doing and insisted I send him the blog post right away. By the way, he knows better than to use my coffee mug…..I think. Thank you for always being so bloody hysterical!!! You are a highlight of my week!

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  15. I so look forward to your blog every week, I just have to say thank you! I can’t wait to read the laugh out loud stories and truly, they make my day! Also thanks for the ref to the other great blog, wasthatmyoutloudvoice. Love you guys!

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  16. Now I have this image in my head of you and Ken doing swordplay gymnastics with your BBQ tongs akin to the Man In Black vs Inigo Montoya in the Princess Bride:

    You: You are using Bonetti’s Defense against me, ah?
    Ken: I thought it fitting considering the [mountain of charcoal].
    You: Naturally, you must suspect me to attack with [hot dogs and] Capa Ferro?
    Ken: Naturally, but I find that [thawed] Thibault cancels out [foil-wrapped] Capa Ferro. Don’t you?
    You: Unless the enemy has studied with Agrippa-two-prong-forks … which I have!

    Needless to say you’re now the coolest couple since Wesley and Buttercup. You can decide who’s who. 😉

    P.S. Next week is #200! Are you planning a special double-sized spectacular extravaganza edition?

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  17. Kendra Lee says:

    So, I totally get stuck in my sports bra… but not with one arm in and one arm out. I can’t really even figure out how that happens. I cross my arms in front of my body, grab on to the bottom of the sports bra & lift my arms over my head. Well, that’s how it works conceptually. In reality, I grab and lift but only get it to right under my armpits. Then I’m stuck. It won’t go up. It won’t go down. I had to beg my 7 year old for help the other day. But she didn’t want to touch my sports bra because it was “gross.” I mean, I was sweaty, sure. But if I hadn’t been sweaty, I wouldn’t have gotten stuck in the damn thing in the first place!

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  19. Someone at work stole my mug out of the lunchroom drying rack and I feel violated in a way I didn’t know was possible over a vessel for hot beverages.

    Also I’ve had way too many incidents in fitting rooms where a too-tight top/dress refused to come off and I almost had to consider deliberately bursting the seams Hulk-style and making a run for it just to win back my freedom.

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  22. You raise a great point, mydangblog: For all the bitching our generation (often justifiably) engages in about the Internet, it has dispelled the insecurities that come from not knowing if certain personal idiosyncrasies are weird or not. Turns out — for better and for worse — everyone else is doing exactly what you’re doing!

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