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When I was younger I didn't like jeans.
It stemmed from when I was walking with my mother in Seattle. My jeans were chafing, and I told my mum that my jeans hurt. I was three or four years old at the time. Eventually we stopped in a bathroom to find that my pants left horrible red marks on my legs. It wasn't just that pair that was the problem, so we went to the Gap and bought me some more comfortable pants.
I then had a thing about pants that weren't jeans--specifically black pants. I wore only cloth pants until fifth grade. The only exception I made for jeans was when I went camping. And for the first year or so, the buttons on my jeans had to be snaps. I wasn't able to push the buttons through the tiny holes they cut. :T I wear regular jeans now, without much dilemma.
When I was little, I wouldn't take showers.
Baths in the tub were okay, but not showers. When I was too young to remember, I would fall down all the time when taking showers. This scared my mother, and she decided I was only to take baths until she was certain I could stand alone in the shower without falling down. after a while she told me I could take showers if I wanted, but I wanted baths. I didn't start taking showers until fourth grade, maybe fifth grade.
I would also spend a lot of time in the tub. A really short bath for me was half an hour. And when I'd shower, I'd stay until the hot water ran out completely, and I turned blue. This is still a bit of a problem, but if I focus I cut my shower time down to fifteen minutes, other wise I'll be in there until I realize the hot water is running out. My tub time is still usually over an hour.
My room has to be in a certain setup.
Before we moved, my room was arranged a certain way. Left of my bed right next to the wall, the door to the right and foot of my bed, the window on the same wall as my headboard and to the right. Dresser at the foot of my bed, TV to the right of my pillow, and closet in the right wall. My room is still much the same, even though it's bigger. The only real difference is at the foot of my bed is my computer, and to the right of my computer is my dresser. I've talked a lot about rearranging the furniture in my room, but I doubt that will ever happen.
I still have all of my old stuffed animals. I still have all of my old toys that my parents didn't forcefully take away. I had to fight to keep the plushies, and only managed to keep half of them. ; ~; I keep a lot of my things like a pack-rat. I used to collect rocks. Just junky old rocks I'd find on the ground, and I would fill my coat pockets with them. I didn't stop storing things obsessively in my pockets until sixth grade, when I bought a coat without pockets.
I can't stand socks. I hate the way my nails feels when they're short. I floss my teeth compulsively. I've obsessed with my drawings ever since I was old enough to hold a pencil. In fact, I remember my nickname used to be Doodlebug, because I'd draw all over the walls, furniture, floor, whatever I could get at. I remember once I had a marker, and I went to go mark the curtains with them. I knew they wouldn't leave a mark on the white curtains, markers only mark papers. But I knew wrong.
And to top it all off, my mother knows a fair amount about Autism and Asperger syndrome. I also know she doesn't like to take things under her care to the doctor's. They aren't sick if they aren't diagnosed. That is probably why my cats live so long. The vets can't diagnose my cats with some disease and put them down, so my cats live longer... But the quality is questionable.
Maybe I'm just thinking negatively today. gonk Every time I learn about some disease or dysfunction or syndrome I think I have it.
... But usually I get over it after a couple weeks. It's been a few months. . _.
 Leamony · Wed Feb 07, 2007 @ 02:31am · 2 Comments |
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