When I was little I bit my fingernails. As in, down to the quick and then splitting kind of biting. Ouch.
My parents tried a lot to get me to stop - including horrible tasting clear nailpolish. It didn't work.
The only thing that stopped was getting braces at age 12. I simply couldn't get my stumpy nails to my teeth on order to bite them.
But that doesn't really count.
I do still bite off (and eat) the flesh beside my fingernails. Not until it bleeds and/or looks unsightly, but it's not the nicest habit.
It also makes me curious about how much human flesh one must consume before one is at risk of a prion disease.
I correct people. Too often. On their grammar and spelling mostly.
My pet peeves are: the less vs fewer rule, the oxford comma, and nauseous vs nauseated.
I can also be a religious bigot.
I recognise this in myself and I try my hardest to resist but ... I can't help but feel that an intense and fundamental belief in mythological beings speaks to a paucity of intelligence. I do make the distinction that it's (on the whole) people who are fundamentalists, who proselytise, or who feel I am deficient because my spirituality is more fluid and syncretic.
I don't have the hubris to presume that we can either know or not know about the existence of supreme beings (but I find calling myself agnostic ties me too closely to the judeo-christian mythos).
It's ironic that my two closest friends are quite religious. Christian and Jewish. But they have never attempted to change my beliefs and I accept theirs as just another facet of their sparkling personalities. Not flaws, facets.
I use polysyllabic words when monosyllabic ones would suffice.
I just prefer rolling the syllables around in my mind, and it makes life more interesting when it contains more words.
But some people can see it as intellectual snobbery.
And it confuses Craig at times.