Me, Oh, My, Oh, MeMe, ME!!

As of recent, I have had many-a conversation and contemplation about the same subject; self-love, self-obsession, and SELF-ABSORBED! How do we define what is and isn't okay with talking about ourselves? How much should we divulge? In this day and age, everyone's information is accessible, and we are the one's who make it available. The attention excites us, makes us feel wanted, and boosts the ego in such a way that would give Narcissus a run for his money.

What do I know, though (me, me, me)? I love myself so, so much and really just want other people to feel that same love (towards me, of course. Not for their own betterment but mine... Kidding... Sorta.) I think, though, that I perceive myself as being so fucked up in the head that I talk about myself and give away extraordinarily personal information in an often failed attempt at wanting people to understand me better. The keyword here is wanting; not everyone gives a shit, and in fact most people don't want you to tell them everything. They want to figure it out on their own. However, I did have a friend tell me once that he lets the women he's interested in talk about themselves because that's what keeps them interested in him. I guess so, but I'd rather have a conversation that goes back and forth; one-sided bull-shit is of no interest to me and ends up being incredibly boring. I mean let's be honest, my life is really not that exciting...

The closest friends I have are the one's whom I want to listen talk about themselves as much as they are willing to listen to me.

Koumpounophobia

Tonight, I learned that my extraordinarily irrational and strange fear of buttons has a name; koumpounophobia. There are no words to explain how happy and excited I am to know that more people than just ME are grossed out/frightened of buttons. Yesssss...

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Koumpounophobia

I know, I know... Urban Dictionary may not be the most reliable source, BUT it describes the way I feel perfectly. Totally do wash my hands after touching buttons, and definitely get a weird feeling on my insides when I see them. Especially henleys, they are the absolute worst. They just look dirty and blech.

So, friends, make fun of me all you want! I shall now revel in the fact that I am a koumpounophobe. Victory!!

TWITCH!

I have a problem. Actually I have many, which is pretty much why I have this specific problem. There are times when I wonder if I have Turet's Syndrome. Not only is it because of the random spurts that spew forth from my mouth, but it is also because of my insane twitches. Yes. I twitch. I twitch hard. It's embarrassing, and only getting worse.

Used to be that my nervous twitch manifested its'self in the form of a bunny-like movement in my nose. Over the past few years of my life, other areas of my face have begun to uncontrollably move. As of now, I move my ears back and forth, scrunch my eyebrows together, do something inexplicable with my cheek and in turn my eye, and flare my nostrils all whilst twitching my nose. Ah yes, it is a beautiful thing.