January 13, 2004  
Volume 97, Issue 56  

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NEWS

Down with OCD/yeah you know me

So I got a lot of feedback from people when I wrote my last column a while ago.

You may or may not remember, but it was about the slight obsessive compulsive disorder I have, as well as my mild germaphobia.

Responses generally ranged from “That’s hilarious,” to “I do some of the same things,” and I was even informed that some even now consider me their soulmate.

Well, I didn’t have enough space last time to list the full extent of my OCD (as the hip kids on the street call it), so here is part two, to keep you up to the date on the crazy world that is my life.

Last month, I was at a friend’s house, about to enjoy my first meal ever of Hamburger Helper. I had been informed that it was one of the greatest foods in the world, and was excited to eat.

Forty-five minutes later, I had managed to pick my way through approximately one-third of it. I was unable to eat it. Why, you may ask? Why, Paolo, were you unable to eat the Hamburger Helper?

Simple. I don’t like my food to touch, as you may recall. And the Hamburger Helper was not saucy enough for me to justify in my mind as a pasta. It was two separate food groups.

I spent the better part of an hour trying to pick and push the two foods apart. As the bowl wasn’t big enough, I was unable to do so. Therefore, I couldn’t eat it.

An ongoing debate lately between some of my friends has been what foods I can and cannot eat. Especially as I count my food (the number of bites, not the number of chews — I’m not that crazy anymore.)
So let me set the record straight. Nerd candies are counted by the handful. Larger things like Glosette raisins are counted individually. I can eat peanuts (although I don’t especially like them), but they are counted separately.

And when it comes to such things as trail mix, I can eat it, but I have to eat the different types of snacks individually. First the pretzels, then the chips etc etc.

Now for some random notes. I must say, I LOVE the new Palmolive dish washing rags. You wash your dishes (for those unfortunate suckers like me without dishwashers) and then you throw it out. Germs be gone!
I hate spiders. HATE spiders. The last Harry Potter movie? I looked at the exit sign in the theatre during that scene. On Friday, when I saw Big Fish, same thing. A scene with spiders in the forest? I watched the back of the head of the person in front of me.

So there you have it. More about me and all my craziness.

Oh, and I still love Oreos.

 

 

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