I have a crazily obsessive personality. When I start to like something, I will go completely insane about it and whatever it is will literally consume me for weeks and weeks. This is mostly the case with music, and bands. When I fall in love with a band, I will go to as many gigs of theirs as possible, I will buy all the records, all the limited edition vinyls, every magazine that they are mentioned in. It's crippling really, this obsessive thing, because I have spent a lot of money in the past travelling around and seeing bands over and over that I don't even really listen to anymore (but I loved it at the time).
Sticking with music and my insane obsessiveness, I'll say that another weird thing about me is how protective I get of music. I cannot hear a word said against any of my three favourite bands without being consumed with rage. I care about these bands more than I care about most people that I actually know, which is really pathetic, I know.
Whenever I brush my hair, I always turn sideways and look at myself in the mirror to see how long it is. I always do this. I think it's because in college I cut my hair really, really short and I immediately regretted it. I HATED it, so I spent the next three years wearing hair extensions until it was long enough that I didn't get mistaken for a very skinny boy when people met me. Even though it has been long for ages now, I still like to check.
I cannot stand people talking about any single thing to do with their bodies, unless it is a completely superficial thing, like their hair or make up. If someone mentions, for example, (whisper) spots, it makes me gag. Anything to do with the insides of people's bodies makes me actually be a little bit sick. I don't know why, I just can't deal with it. I can't understand why anyone would ever share that stuff with someone else. The only time I can deal with it, is if someone is hurt. Then I can look after them. But other than that...just, no.
I have a ten foot cinema poster of Ben Barnes as Dorian Gray behind my bed. It's actually too tall for my wall, so I have had to fold it over at the bottom. (See also Number One: Crazy Obsessive)
I once won a competition to go to Hollyoaks. As in, actual Hollyoaks. We broke in to what was then Calvin's flat (and by 'broke in' I mean I reached through the door and undid the safety latch). The Loft is completely not as cool as it looks on tv. Oh, and I was on channel 4, sitting on the floor of The Dog, watching George Craig play guitar. I'm really cool, I know.
I can't stand up for longer than about ten minutes without starting to feel really ill and like I'm going to pass out. This is a bitch considering how many gigs I go to.