Idiosyncrasies

Twyla knocks. I answer. You should, too, if it looks like fun. What are five of my idiosyncrasies? 1. I hate going places, like the airport or to meetings. I'm fine once I'm actually there and am certain I'm on time and have everything in order, but before I get there, I'm a grouchy mess. I'd rather drive and I'd rather have no set time at which people expect me. 2. I don't like salad dressing. I don't even understand salad dressing. You've got some tasty greens and some other veggies and some cheese and sometimes some meat. Why ruin it with that goop? Sometimes, I can do a little, very little vinaigrette, but I'd rather not. 3. I have dirt from all three of Robert Johnson's graves in a jar on a bookshelf in my bedroom. I don't know if it's the dirt or the driving around looking at the graves of dead bluesmen that's the idiosyncrasy, but there you go. 4. I hate mirrors. I find them very, very creepy. It got to be such a problem that I had to buy the creepiest mirror I could find because I needed one in my bedroom and couldn't stand the thought. The creepy one works, though, because it's already creepy, if that makes sense. 5. When I'm really happy, I make up songs. They're mostly stupid, but they amuse the hell out of me. When I was in grad school, I wrote a whole musical about all my friends and performed bits of it.