Quirks, what makes you... well, you

I love peanut butter, but hate peanuts. When I told my boss this little fact, I couldn't explain why, so I just said, "One of my quirks, I guess."
That comment amused her.

Face it, everyone has weird preferences or habits that make sense to no one but themselves. Another of mine happens to be that I will sooner go into a room that I know has a spider loose in it than I room that I know has a moth loose in it. I don't mean big, ugly, gonna-take-over-the-world moths, (though I believe those are the epitome of yech!) but even little, tiny, where'd-it-go-I-can't-find-it-because-the-thing-is-tiny moths. Such as the moth that took up residence for two days in my work area last week. I was so freaked out by the thing that I was afraid to kill it. I'm sure it would have been amusing for you all to see me flailing a box cutter (don't worry, the blade was retracted) at a half-inch, harmless insect. I know that stupid little minion of the underworld was mocking me.

So maybe I exxagerate. Slightly.

Anyway, yes, I know that moths are harmless, but I find them to be the ultimate evil, straight from the pit of hell. (Did I mention I exxagerate?)

It's actually a little bit like my Parakeet, Robbie. I love to buy him new toys, but there's one problem. No toy is safe, they're all out to kill him. Under no circumstances is he to touch one, in fact, it's safer just to climb the cage walls than to risk contact with the malicious object. At least, that's what he thinks, for at least a month of the object being in his cage. Yet, the cats, oh, the cats are his best buddies. A cat by the cage is the most welcome thing ever, they'd never hurt me, we're family. All the while, of course, those cats are planning how to best open the cage to get to this jumpy, little blue snack. This is why God made sure that Robbie was born a pet, he's so stupid he'd die in the wild. I'm quite thankful that God trusted this cutie to my particuliar care.

Sammie, the newest addition to our pet family, (who happens to be laying on my arms as I type this) is a grey and white cat, about 3 years old, who prefers to back up rather than turn around, it would seem. Usually, this occurs when she's sitting on window sills, but occasionally at other times, too. This is in additon to the fact that one minute she'll be rubbing your legs, the next she'll be hissing and taking a swipe at your ankles. That, I suppose, is more nerves than quirk.

Well, I suppose I'm done relfecting on various "whims and inconsistancies" (another of my quirks, using any opportunity to quote my favorite books and movies) for now.

Till next I write!