Since my meant-to-be-optimistic-and-cathartic post earlier this week actually made many of you sad, I feel compelled to make it up to all of you. I need to write something light-hearted, but without being too silly. If it can also be informative and awesome, it’s a bonus.

So, I have decided to list some quirks and random tidbits about myself. Some of these I may have mentioned before in writing, but most should be new to all of you. And, since these are about me, this post is assured of being both informative and awesome.

You’re welcome, people.

I pop my knuckles. And my back. And my neck. I’ve done the former since I was in elementary school. I picked up the latter two in high school so I could impress the ladies.

I wear my wallet in my right back pocket. On the handful of occasions I have worn it in my left pocket, it feels as though aliens have invaded my pants.

Whenever I eat a meal or a snack, afterward I have to wash my hands, splash my face with water, and rinse out my mouth with water. If I don’t, I feel grimy. I have seriously considered keeping a bottle of Listerine on my desk at work so I can do a more thorough cleaning after eating almonds.

I don’t like people trying to talk to me when I’m at the gym. Yes, I’m a sociable person. But if you’re trying to talk to me while I’m exercising with headphones in my ears, I assume you are either stupid, inconsiderate or trying to hit on me. And if it’s the latter, you should know I do not date stupid people who are inconsiderate.

The first time I stepped foot onto an airplane, I was 28 years old. The farthest I have traveled is to Minnesota. Despite these facts, the idea of vacationing across America and visiting other countries intrigues me. I bet Canada would welcome me with open arms.

When I was a senior in high school, I turned down four invitations to the prom. (No, this wasn’t one of those things where the girls were supposed to ask the boys. These girls, apparently, were just tired of waiting.) However, I politely turned down all four invites because I wanted to go with the girl I took to the junior prom. She ended up going with someone else, and I ended up staying home while pondering the concept of irony.

The reason I never get on Facebook is because 90% of my “friends” are former students of mine and one of them once hit on me via Facebook. A female student, long since graduated, sent me an (I’m assuming) alcohol-induced come-hither message. It would be two years before I logged into Facebook after that.

I had never even taken a sip of beer until a few months before my 29th birthday, when I was at a lake cabin in Minnesota. It was the only beverage available. So extreme was my dislike for the taste, I suspected someone had given me water from the lake mixed with alcohol. In fact, I was fairly certain I saw a twig floating in my can.

I do not like to, and rarely do, wear shorts out in public. My reasons range from “they make me look like every other guy” to “they make me have to use more sunscreen than usual, and sunscreen isn’t cheap.”

On a related note, I wear lip balm with SPF protection every single day. The reason is obvious: Next time I am in a position to kiss a woman, I can use “don’t worry, my lips are free of the sun’s harmful ultraviolet rays” to clinch the deal.

And finally…

I have never before, knock on wood, broken a bone in my body. However, my mom, a nurse, informs me it is possible my bruised tailbone could be a broken tailbone. Apparently, bruised, cracked or outright broken, the treatment is the same, so there’s no upside to having an X-ray to find out.

Still, if it is broken, I’m going to have to change the story of how it happened. Most guys break bones playing sports or riding motorcycles. My story can’t be, “I fell in the shower trying to answer a phone.” And my tailbone can’t be the first bone I break. That’s just lame.

No, to anyone who ever asks, the story is I broke both my arms and legs after saving a damsel in distress from a gang of bikers. I gave just as good as I got, and two days later I was healed and good as new.

That’s the story, people.