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Post by Phalon on Jan 16, 2005 11:54:51 GMT -6
Ok, so nearly everyone has them - fetishes. Not talking about the kind of stuff that should be posted in that other place that some of you frequent. But more along those little things we sometimes have to have, or have to do that borders on obsessing or even superstitious.
I thought about this today while standing at the ironing board, making sure the creases in my jeans where perfect, even though I had no plans of setting foot outside today in the below freezing temperatures and snow. Hubs calls this my ironing fetish, or my love affair with sizing. Creases have to be sharp, and lots of sizing must be applied to get them that way. He thinks it odd that I even do this to the jeans I wear at the nursery, which 10 minutes after I start work are usually covered in dirt. I blame it on Mom, only because that's what people seem to do - blame everything on their upbringing - although, she was the one who would crease my jeans by folding them that way. I rarely fold the clothes, prefering instead to rifle through the clean clothes basket that I've been thinking about folding while I spend all that time ironing.
Just wondering if there are others out there, (doubtful), that have weird little fetishes.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 16, 2005 12:16:47 GMT -6
Ok here it is....I have a thing for toys. Specially legos.
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Post by chackattack81 on Jan 16, 2005 14:27:34 GMT -6
Leaflets....I know...very strange...but I love the smell of leaflets K...I'll be leaving now....
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Post by ilb on Jan 16, 2005 18:37:01 GMT -6
bouncy balls of course.. ink pens and lighters always catch my eye..along with anything different and unusual....
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Post by Phalon on Jan 17, 2005 17:50:16 GMT -6
All very interesting, especially the leaflet thing, Chak. I never noticed leaflets have any particular scent to them, never really having felt the need to smell them. I’ll have to pay attention next time. All collections too, and I hadn’t thought of collections as fetishes, but I guess they could be. In fact, yes, I’m seeing the thing I have for dictionaries as a fetish now.
Dictionaries are the only thing I collect; purposefully seeking them out – oh, there is that other thing – the collection of old wooden paneled doors and windows. I’ve kind of curbed that one though, because they are threatening to take over the garage, and Hubs swears if I bring home one more door, he’s throwing the whole lot of them out for the garbage man.
My favorite place to feed my dictionary fetish is the used bookstore in town. It’s in one of those cool old buildings with shelves nearly reaching the 20 foot pressed tin ceiling, and you have to use wooden ladders on wheels to reach the top. It just reeks of old books as soon as you open the door – not musty or moldy – just old. Little Xena hates this smell, and stands there with her nose crinkled, rolling her eyes at me when I say I’ll just be a minute and head to the reference section to see if any new dictionaries have been dropped off. The houses in town are all on average 80 to 100 years old, so you never know what old thing someone will find in an attic and bring to the book store.
The dictionary thing started with my favorite, an old Webster’s from the 60s that I just ended up with after a company move, which for some reason is missing most of the P section; over 100 pages of it. No explanation for this – the binding is in tact, and there is no evidence the pages had been torn out. So I got a new one, much thicker and I suppose it’s not only being the P section is fully intact, but because of all the new words added in the last forty years.
But the new one is lacking something my Missing P one has – that stuff in the back. In the older dictionaries the place that is now reserved for Geographical Names, and Colleges and Universities, was filled with all kinds of interesting stuff, and that, I guess, is what I find interesting about the dictionaries.
The stuff in the back of old dictionaries ranges from your standard punctuation guides, (never much paid any attention to them), to odder things such as Expectation of Life tables, Rhyming Guides; Holidays of the Various States, Poisons and Antidotes, and maps along with various other things.
People write stuff in dictionaries; making little notes in the margins, underlining words and such. In my 1923 Webster’s in the back there is a list of “Average Velocity of Various Bodies”, which lists things like “a horse trots 7 miles per hour, or 10 feet per second”, and “slow rivers flow 3 miles per hour, or 4 feet per second.” Underlined and starred in pencil is “A man walks 3 miles per hour, or 4 feet per second.” Why? Why, would anyone make special note of this? Something committed to memory and practiced to get right? I’m thinking maybe my ironing/paneled door/dictionary fetishes aren’t so weird at all.
Oh….I'm thinking I have a fetish for wordiness too.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 17, 2005 20:18:48 GMT -6
You wordy? Never.
Did I mention my comic book collection? They all have to be in little zip lock bags....lined up so they don't crease....the only thing about me that is anal.....ok maybe not, but a girl can dream right?
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 17, 2005 22:14:26 GMT -6
Leaflets? Har! My Mom shares that fetish.
Legos. Hmmm.
I have to think about this. I once said I have no fetishes, but, I am sure there must be something. Give me a while.
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Post by guru on Jan 17, 2005 23:39:26 GMT -6
I have The Incredible Hulk in a freezer bag in my attic. Do I explain or let that sit?
Trains do it for me. Spanning the wide open midwestern spaces or threading through dangerously narrow mountain passes, the romance of the rails is alive and well. Always thought it would be extra special to honeymoon on a cross-country train.
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Post by Phalon on Jan 18, 2005 0:05:13 GMT -6
Whether you let it sit or not, I think depends on the amount of freezerbag space he has to do the sitting in.
Romantic image - traveling cross country on train. I've never taken a "real" train trip; just short ones from here to Chicago, or using Eurail, or Britrail for day-trips. Never an overnight, and I think one of those Mystery Murder type trips would be too cool.
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Post by dixielandyankee on Jan 18, 2005 5:03:57 GMT -6
I have a thing about the smell of dry ice that they use to make smoke in the theatre. The first time I ever went to see a big show was when my mum took me to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Starlight Express' and it was the smell of the dry ice that made me want to work in theatre...and here I am! Weird huh... Chack, I get the leaflet thing...we have a print room here at the theatre where we keep all the posters and flyers etc for all our shows, and it smells of leaflets...you can smell it from outside the door!
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Post by chackattack81 on Jan 18, 2005 10:10:24 GMT -6
Nice one Dixie!...I'm NOT INSANE!!! YAY!!!! ;D
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erco
Whooshite Apprentice
Too technologically challenged to insert a picture!
Posts: 118
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Post by erco on Jan 18, 2005 10:58:30 GMT -6
Tires!
As in new, auto tires. I will walk to the back of a Walmart to the auto section just to get a big whiff. Or walk into a tire store for a sniff or two and then leave.
A couple other fettishes or oddities, as some might say....
I can't stand to see a crooked picture on a wall and just have to straighten it. I will say that I do refrain from doing this if I am in someone elses home that I don't know well.
When someone uses the hand towels in the bathroom after drying their hands I feel the compulsion to go behind them and make sure it is hanging straight.
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Post by Phalon on Jan 18, 2005 23:55:12 GMT -6
Hey Eroc. I get the tire smell thing. But to walk in a store and sniff then leave? LMAO. Too funny.
I like the smell of gasoline, but it's not something I purposefully seek out to sniff.
Scents are fun. I wish I had some. Sense, that is.
Touch is fun too, especially at the nursery where I work. There are some things I can't leave my hands off. I never really thought about it until now, but I suppose it may look odd, me standing there caressing a particular plant as I talk to the customers about it.
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Post by marysgurl1 on Jan 19, 2005 21:29:02 GMT -6
Soft things.... any soft thing! Clothes, sheets, stuffed animals, skin......whoops....sorry Phalon. I guess that last one belongs in "that other place that some of us frequent"...... I promise you, its alot tamer over there than you might think... Actually, ILB was the big one on its gotta be soft, but since she got me use to it, it's gotta be soft for me too. I have a odd thing about cleaning out the refrigerator too. It use to stay so neat & empty when it was just me, but now that there are four of us....man oh man!! Everyone puts leftovers in but no one will eat them--so my dilemma goes.....and those daughters, you would think they could return items to their appointed place at least part of the time!!! After all, that's the place they always find it!! Ok, I guess I'm kinda bordering on pet peeves now... Later. Oh, one of my dearest friends has that same dictionary fetish, Phalon. I have found some really cool ones for her over the years.
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Post by Phalon on Jan 20, 2005 10:21:48 GMT -6
Neat about your friend collecting dictionaries, Marysgurl. There is just something about them. I didn't know there was more than just one of us out there, and I wonder 'Are there others?' Maybe even a word for those with dictionary fetishes? I should look that up.
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Post by Becka on Jan 20, 2005 10:33:57 GMT -6
Okay Scrappyamazon will vouch for this one. I have a thing with dust. I can't have it anywhere. I dust my house once a week here but when I was in Arizona I would sometimes dust my room everyday. I also have a thing for I love Lucy and Winnie the Pooh. I love Lucy Christmas ornaments are the best I even have an I love Lucy game.Winnie the Pooh is just cute.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 20, 2005 16:51:55 GMT -6
I can vouch for the dust thing....too bad I never could get her to dust for me when she lived here.....
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Post by Xenamoured on Jan 21, 2005 9:27:25 GMT -6
Hi there Phalon, Scrappy, Becka and all... Becka, you'd like my pets. I've had three Tiggers-two cats and one dog, and my Airedale Terrier now is named Winnie. Pooh Rules!
Phalon, I like dictionaries too. We just got a great one last year from Blond Xena's crazy world-traveller bachelor uncle. It's a British one-Barclay's I think is the publisher-from 1740-or thereabouts. It's pretty cool. We also have two of the British Oxford unabridged from the 50's- 1800 pages and at least 20 pounds each.
As for my own unusually acute appreciations of the mundane... I have a thing for questionnares and surveys-love them-even from annoying telemarketers...strange pleasure from going through a car wash...gasoline smell also...utter darkness...extremely hot and humid weather...fine pens...anything cinnamon...
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 21, 2005 22:10:51 GMT -6
I am still thinking. Gosh, maybe I am just bland.
Fetish, fetish. Not the jewelry ones, I have one of those....hmmm.
Wait a sec....Fetish:noun. 1. An object regarded with awe as being the embodiment or habitation of a potent spirit or as having a magical protency. 2. any object or idea eliciting unquestioning reverence, respect or devotion. 3. any object or part of body that, although not of a sexual nature, causes an erotic response or fixation.
Huh, dust? Devotion to dust? Leaflets? Yikes.
I can think of one for no. 3, though.
Snow, I really like snow, but not a fetish. The trouble is that I am not a material girl and I am easygoing. Hmm, this is driving me crazy.
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Post by Phalon on Jan 21, 2005 22:37:59 GMT -6
Come on, Gabbin. Try harder. I'm sure you can come up with something.
Hey Xenamoured. Those dictionaries sound too cool; like something I must have. Wishing I had a crazy world-traveller bachelor uncle.
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 21, 2005 22:47:35 GMT -6
Oh, I can think of something on no. 3. But that is private.
On the other ones, I like World Almanacs and like to look at them but not a fetish. Really, haven't we had this conversation before? Isn't there anything?
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 21, 2005 22:51:32 GMT -6
Bicycles? I really like them. I used to be devoted to my bike. Cleaned it at least once per week. And that means I took all of the ball bearings out and screwed the parts loving back together; not too tight, just right; all the while caressing the surface with a soft touch and a good waxing. Wait a minute, this has suddenly slipped back into no. 3 definition.
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 21, 2005 22:52:53 GMT -6
Jeunet, that was her name. She was yar (Philadelphia Story line).
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Post by Phalon on Jan 21, 2005 22:52:54 GMT -6
Driving slow. Gabbin-speed remember? You regard each grain of asphalt with awe as being the embodiment or habitation of a potent spirit or as having a magical protency, and have to drive slow enough to search for the spirit held within the grains.
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 21, 2005 23:00:18 GMT -6
Say what? LMAO. I drive slow cuz I am a bicyclist, first and foremost. The cars are just too fast for me. However, I have to say I could probably kick your butte in a race car video game. I am good at that type of driving. Seriously, though. I drive slow cuz I am type D-not bra size-and leave early, arrive on time, I am very easygoing, which brings me back to the original problem of being....ewweehew, fetishless.
Jeunet was stolen in College. I immediately went out and fell for Teammy.
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Post by Gabbin on Jan 23, 2005 21:23:21 GMT -6
Scrappy reminded me that I may have a fetish over privacy. Now this could be. I am on a no call list and send in my name to have it on the privacy lists from all of those service providers of mine. Sheesh, yes, that could be it. I am devoted to my privacy. I may have a fetish, I think.
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Post by Becka on Jan 25, 2005 21:42:39 GMT -6
Scrappy don't forget your bookcase I did dust that remember. Also I thought of another thing I like to make up rules like what you should and shouldn't do in public. Scrappy will tell you this too cause she always says I should right a book. One rule for me is if you have nail polish on you must not have any chips in the color either take it off or repaint. I'm just weird I guess. Scrappy keep your comments to yourself on that one.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 28, 2005 15:04:09 GMT -6
Yes the rules...I almost forgot.
Rule number one....no swearing in public.
As you can imagine this one is difficult for me.
Rule number two.....no tlking to people you don't know in the line at the grocery store.
Come on...some of the best conversations I have ever had were in this particular setting.
What else? I'm forgetting so many!
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Post by Phalon on Feb 16, 2005 21:06:01 GMT -6
Hanging laundry today, and I realized I think I have another fetish, (hey, Gabbin the Fetishless, wanna borrow one of mine? I seem to be overflowing with them once I took a look). This one, I think, might be a clothing fetish. Not one of those clothes-horses, all perfectly dressed in the latest trends and fashions. Oh, neigh, not I. I collect things.
Fifteen to twenty pair of jeans hang in my closet, in varying shades of fade. Not all that unusual, I think, especially since a lot of them are work jeans. Unusual though, I suppose, in that all but one or two pair are the same style; Levi 550s, slim or relaxed fit – doesn’t matter, tapered leg, short. I like the way they wear, the way they fit, and the fact that I can go into anyplace that sells them, or online, and buy the same size without trying them on, and they fit exactly the same way. Why can’t other manufacturers do this? It’d make things a whole lot easier, I think.
Next to the jeans hangs about the only other thing I wear; black pants, and I have about seven or eight pairs of those, (not including the two black Levi 550’s). Seven or eight black pants, and I pretty much only wear one, (which reminds me, I’ve got to get them out of the cleaner’s), a cotton, lycra blend; no pockets, no pleats – just nice and simple, zipping up the side, with straight, tapered legs – about 8-10 years old, and I hope they never go out of style. Do I need another pair? No. Did I just buy one? Sigh, I felt obligated. Hub’s co-worker’s wife was having one of those negligee/beach/evening wear type parties, and since the five-piece French Maid’s outfit was too expensive, (rolls-eyes), and since she bought Girl Scout cookies from LX, sponsored LX in the Jump for Heart jump-rope-athon thingy, and knitted scarves for us all for Christmas, what the heck was I supposed to do? Buy another pair of black pants, of course.
Wool Sweaters. I’ve got stacks and stacks of them. Colorful patterned ones – more like jackets than sweaters; buttoning up the front with cool, intricate metal buttons.
And so I was walking downtown a couple of weeks ago, and my favorite store – the one with the sweaters – was beckoning me. Not only clothing in the store, lots of neat other stuff too, and I hadn’t been in there since Christmas. No harm in looking, I told myself. No sweaters caught my eye, but instead I bought a way too expensive cottony sweatshirty-type pull-over…just because it was orange. And I have a thing for orange. Solid unadulterated orange, it’s sunny brightness left unmarred by other colors – not easy to find, so when I do, I have to have. I think I have more orange in my wardrobe than a pumpkin patch in autumn.
And that’s when I got into real trouble. A dress – a stretch for me, shunning them since I left my office job to make my living playing in the dirt – caught my eye. A long, ankle length, dusty rose, plush, velvety soft Renaissance/Guineverish type thing with delicate embroidery around the necklace, hemline and flared ¾ length sleeves. Damn it, I should have just left with my way too expensive orange cottony sweatshirty-type pull-over thing, (wondering exactly how many adjectives I can fit in this paragraph). I had to caress it, which meant I had to have. Never-mind, that I really have no place to wear it – hell; I’d wear it vacuuming the house, just to feel it next to me. But I left the store and the dress behind.
Until the next day….a couple of friends and I met for coffee downtown. Leaving the coffee shop, of course I had to pass by the store with the dress. I just need to stop in here for a second, I say to the friend walking with me. He follows me in and waits while I try on the dress. I didn’t ask him to hold my purse, like I do Hubs, because that would have been just too embarrassing. Not for him. For me - because I had the Mom’s Purse, and did not feel like explaining why it weighs fifty pounds, (I think I still have Baby Phalon’s rock collection in there from summer). Anyway, I come out of the dressing room, and he says, “Buy it.” That was it….all I needed to hear. So good when you have friends who know exactly what to say. Smile.
The woman who owns the shop sold it to me for the end of the winter 60 percent off sale price which occurs at the end of March – only because I asked for it. Cheesey? Yes, of course, but after the way too expensive cottony orange thing, I felt justified. Besides, she knows me. Knows me well enough to sell Hubs an antiquey looking, silver and beaded necklace and earrings that matches the dress, for me for Valentine’s day. Her justification, I suppose. Smile again.
Gabbin, you really need to hurry and write your scrolls piece. And you too, Scrappy. Aren’t you due in the Whoosher story? Spread the blame around that I have nothing to worthwhile to write. I feel justified.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 16, 2005 22:18:42 GMT -6
Is that why you got so long winded? LMAO....I'm working on it.
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