1) Chippy socks. When he's been eating corn chips or anything else that leaves a residue on his fingers, he absentmindedly wipes his them on his socks. I thought this was weird but he put a poll up on his dorky lovefest forum and the response from the other guys was overwhelmingly in his favour. Apparently I am in the minority for NOT wiping my fingers on my socks.

I guess I should start wearing socks.

2) Glass warrior. We use a lot of drinking glasses in our place for some reason, so (presumably) to combat this, Daniel likes to use the same glass more than once. I am all for this but I do have standards. If the glass is covered in gross greasy smears and lip-marks, I'll give it a quick rinse first.

Daniel, on the other hand, will happily pour orange juice into a glass from which he has just been drinking milk. Stuff that just doesn't ... harmonise. Last night he reached a new low, and sadly the "joke" was on me. We bought chicken and chips from a corner store to eat at home, and we had some lemon squash to go with it because if you're going to clog your arteries with (delicious) grease you may as well give yourself tooth decay while you're at it, right? Anyway, we ate at the coffee table and watched Futurama and I accidentally started drinking from his glass instead of mine. There was a brief "HEY! That's MY glass!" that lasted all of 2 seconds until we were bored with play-fighting, and all was fine. Until I got to the last sip.

Through my lemon squash I could see a gummy white disc clinging to the bottom of the glass - congealed milk.

3) Bathtub shame. Despite the fact that there has been much nudity in our relationship, particularly given that we live together, he's got this funny habit of covering himself whenever I walk in while he's in the bath. Shower nudity is apparently fine, as is walking around the house scratching his arse looking for the washing basket with the clean undies, but bath nudity is Shameful and Wrong.

A typical scenario is as follows: I walk into the bathroom, where Daniel is reading a book. We start to chat, and I notice him grab a wash cloth and place it over his love noodle*.

Me: What are you doing?
Him: (A little embarrassed) I'm ... covering my shame.

I just don't get it. Does he feel self-conscious having it bobbing about like an organic floaty centrepiece?

* I made that term up this morning. Daniel found it very entertaining.

The other day at work I heard a watch alarm go off in someone's drawer. I wandered around and eventually found the culprit watch in Ian's drawer, and stopped it.

He walked in moments later.

"Ian, your watch alarm just went off - so if there was something you needed to remember to do, do it."

"Nah, it's a Chinese two-dolar job. I can't workout how to stop it from doing that."

Oh.

In my next entry I hope to write about our work Christmas party and about the way my sister's dog totally flipped out at me last week. Actually I can't be bothered with the Christmas party as not much really happened. But keep your eye on this space for the story about the dog.