I don't high five. Ever. I have given a few in the past, but of even that I am ashamed.
This can be the social equivalent of the dog who can't wag his tail, but I flatly refuse. Whenever someone asks me why I don't, I tell them to wait, and an example will reveal itself. Usually within an hour, some inebriated fratboy goes crazy over the slightest provocation, and demands multiple elevated hand slaps from everyone around.
My case is made.
I spend a lot of time in my head. It is like a time share in an area I love, with no neighbors, and all the other tenants blissfully absent.
This can cause problems closely akin to lost time. I will see a strange situation or interesting person, and will begin to unravel this intriguing mystery, and before I know it I am already at my destination.
My autopilot is strong, and takes instruction from my interior air traffic control exceptionally well.
I like a lot of time alone. Not Unibomber in scope, or intensity. Don't let the photos fool you. A few hours a day to collect myself and enjoy some silence.
Some have taken this as distance, but its nothing personal.
I think the best relationships often have the feature where both parties can share the same space, but have the ease of being alone, with the special comfort only the other can bring.
I have cycles where I am very outgoing and sociable, and other times when I would rather spend more time at home, or jogging, or rock climbing. I can't help it there are no rocks around here large enough to climb. If there were? They wouldn't know what hit them.
I work a strange schedule, with ten hour days. That bleed into the night. By the time I get out of work, most normal people are climbing into bed. I am assuming to sleep, but I don't really want to pry.
I also feed a lot of stray cats. I'm like the crazy cat lady from the Simpsons. Without the avant garde fashion sense.
I don't want to brag, but you know that scene in Raising Arizona where the grizzled bounty hunter snags a fly with his bare hands in front of the face of Nathan Arizona?
Another gift is to be able to make people laugh about things they don't want to laugh about. What I have just said is disturbing/potentially illegal in several Southern states. At least considered unseemly in polite company. Yet there they are, laughing, questioning their morals and personal virtues all the while.
Its the closest thing to host manipulation this side of T. Gondii.
I am also really good at empathy with a backbone. I will listen to someone's plight/problems, taking time and consideration of the situation, and then try to help them come to a conclusion or at least a solid plan of action.
Not so good at the "there there"s or the weak palliative consolations if its something the person is doing to cause/exacerbate the situation.
To each their own.
I am part ninja.
At one with the shadows.
That and my hair. If you look at it and don't think of the lead from Eraserhead, the angels in my own personal heaven lose their wings.
Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon, Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy, Cat's Cradle by Vonnegut, Survival of the Sickest, Mothman Prophecies, Factotum, Nausea, On the Road, Survivor by Chuck Palaniuk, Underworld by Don Delillo, White Noise by Don Delillo, hell, anything by Don Dellilo, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson, many many others.
Night of the Living Dead, Citizen Kane, anything Cohen Bros, 2001, Eraserhead, Seven Samurai, Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, and by that I mean Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Network, Dr Strangelove.
Special points if have seen, or at least heard of The Legend of Boggy Creek. They really don't make pseudo documentary hairy man/ape creatures that mennace Fouke, Arkansas pictures like they did in the 70's anymore.
I think that was the main feature of Jimmy Carter's "Malaise" speech.
That or he felt bad for trying to whack that poor bunny on the head with an oar. Nobel Peace prize, and he is a bunny whacker.
Tom Waits, Sufjan Stevens, Kanye West, Monster Magnet, Magnetic Fields, Stereolab, MGMT, Soul Coughing, Curtis Mayfield.
Stuff like that. Give me a break, I just had to think about Carter's malaise speech again, and am trying to do my best.
Spice. Thats the key. I want my face to feel like its going to fall off. Or at least that I can see through time.
Which I don't think really exists, but we will save that for later.
water. I'm not being a wisenheimer here. I drink a lot of it, and I fear tapwater, due to the chlorine, flouride, fecal matter and what not.
James Earl Jones hearty laugh.
I like to think that it isn't without purpose. If you think about a lot of seemingly bizarre or inconsequential shit, I like to think of it as fertilizer to ready the mental soil for more monumental contemplations.
Zombies. I dream about them frequently as well. This was due to seeing night of the living dead alone at a young age.
What I would do if suddenly something/someone dangerous happens.
What would create good natural cover? Would I rather take a bullet in the right or left arm? Would one to the buttocks really do all that much damage to my already pathetic basketball skillset? Would this dinner tray work better as a bludgeon or in more of an awkward throwing star capacity?
After that its probably exercising or hanging out with friends.
I never knew, until recently, that pickles were actually cucumbers.
You are a master at the fine art of banter. If film makers from the forties could take what you are saying and stick it in a movie with Bogart or Becall. You would rather go sing karaoke than watch American Idol. You despise the show "Friends".
You can go out for a few drinks and maintain balance and do not suddenly become a snarling, insult and/or accusation slinging beast by the end of the evening.