I am not a dancer, but when I see someone en pointe, I respond by flexing my foot.
I hate hearing other people complain, even when I agree with them.
I have no problem telling complete strangers to shut up when I’m watching movies or plays. I have a increasing urge to do this outside theaters, too. Eventually, this will land me in serious trouble.
When someone criticizes me, my first instinct is to laugh.
I have a high threshold for pain. During physicals, I like to pretend it’s even higher than it is, just to watch the expression on doctors’ faces.
Though I’m not Catholic, I cross myself and say a Hail Mary any time I see a dead animal on the street or the news or in a documentary. (By “animal”, I mean people, too.)
I also cross myself when I hear emergency vehicles: police cars, fire engines, ambulances, and helicopters. Especially helicopters.
For years after Hurricane Katrina, I was afraid of thunderstorms. I wasn’t afraid that I’d get hit by lightning or that the house would flood. I was afraid that our house would lose power for days.
When reheating and thawing things, I used to have an overwhelming compulsion to stop the microwave at 13 seconds. That’s no longer true, but I do have to stop it before it reaches zero, and I always stop it on a prime number.
When my hot tea gets cold, I dump the dregs into the nearest potted plant. The plants don’t mind, but it seems a little like cannibalism to me.