Feel this!

On a completely non-scifi note, I want to talk about touching things and the complete ridiculous level of my love of doing so. I don't mean that love of touching things you aren't supposed to, I've never been a big-red-candylike-button-must-touch-before-death! sort of person though I have always been an adding a ridiculous-amount-of-dashes kind of person.

I love to feeeeeeeeel things. Soft things, grainy things, bumpy things, smooth things...you name it and I like to touch it. Ever since I was a kid running my fingers over the wall in the hall while walking to class until my fingers budged and later mucking through the mud until my mother was nearly weak with tears over my splashed overalls, I have loved to feeeeeel things.

My father who is very very experianced with kids and even a doctor ( not a medical kind) of kidology, decided in an unrelated way that I had Hypotonia. Usually hypotonia is related to children with severe developmental problems related to Down's Syndrome, Muscular dystrophy and other frightening maladies. I did develop on the slow side both emotionally and physically and I did have terrible motor coordination, but I was not ever officially diagnosed with anything other then Perpetual Snobbery and General Idiocy.

One of the traits of low tone children is having a love for feeling things and also needing lots and lots of hugs. I'm talking chronic, addict like need for hugs. If you think hug addiction is funny, just try to get a hug out of the average teacher who has had the "don't hug children or you are a pervert" speech every year since they started working. Or having friends who had to hug or touch at all.

That's why I love Geo and Law who allow me to hug all over them and pet their hair even though Law would rather have her eyelashes slowly plucked out then let anyone touch her hair. I'm Lennie from Of Mice and Men to her, but she puts up with it anyway.

And then there's the Nox with his gloriously long flowing hair that he even occasionally lets be braid with the toleration only exhibited by a man who gets laid regularly.

Anyway, I tell you all of this to tell you why my lunch hour yesterday was torturous. You see, to satisfy my ever yearning needs for feeling things I taught myself to knit and despite my bad motor coordination (thanks again hypotonia!), can manage some fairly decent afghans and such. Then yesterday on the hottest day with the most humidity ever (so bad that my hair was like onto the cotton ball), I got a great idea for the most beautiful blanket ever and went to Michael's on my lunch break. I gleefully touched yarn for fifteen glorious minutes before finding the perfect, cheapest yarn ever!

Oh the delirium! The dreams of clacking needles and glorious fluffy blue blanket! All. The. Damn. Touching! So happy...

Only to remember that it was approximately 2,567 degrees Fahrenheit outside, not blanket making time. I regretfully put the yarn back, half my lunch break already vanished.

And then I told Nox where I'd gone and he of the flowing red locks nodded knowingly and said "Ah, so you went and Touched things." I could practically hear the capital T people.

My ill-kept secret is out....so can I pet you, dear reader?


Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian