1. Even though (a) my hair hasn't been longer than jaw-length in five years, (b) I don't expect it to ever be so again, and (c) it was always too fine to do a whole lot with when it was longer (which is the primary reason for a and b), I have a whole vanity-drawerful of hair doodads, and can't bring myself to get rid of any of them. Very, very occasionally a few of them will come in useful (usually either for a wig or for someone else), but most haven't been worn in up to a decade. I just keep thinking I'll suddenly need them as soon as they're gone. For the most part, I'm really not a packrat. But about this particular point I am. Maybe it's somehow attached to the fantasy of having substantial hair, which I never have and never will.
2. I buy Cadbury's Creme Eggs in bulk before Easter and stash them in disparate corners of the freezer. Ideally I forget where some of them are, so I can discover them late in the year when I thought they were gone.
3. I can be moved to the point of tears with sympathy over suffering that is not only imaginary but entirely satirical. This is referred to as the "Starving Gumpling Effect," after a running joke on a long bus ride to a track meet in ninth grade. One of the seniors was nicknamed Gump, and he just barely made it to the bus one hellaciously early Saturday morning. I don't remember exactly how, but this led to jokes about his abandoning "Mrs. Gump and all the little Gumplings" -- none of whom existed -- complete with joking accusations that he was leaving the poor little Gumplings alone to starve while he went swanning off to a track meet. Being fourteen and therefore hormonally-scrambled in addition to having a vivid imagination, I couldn't get the image of the starving Gumplings out of my head for the whole rest of the day, and actually started crying over it a couple times, all while being fully aware of the absurdity of the reaction. That was fun to explain, lemme tell ya. I'm no longer fourteen by a long shot, but still have the vivid imagination, and this sort of thing will still occasionally happen.
4. I carry a seamstress' tape measure in my purse. This is eminently practical, as there is no point in wasting my time trying on a pair of pants with an inseam any shorter than 33 inches, but people always look at me funny.
5. My "aura" warning that I have a migraine coming on most commonly takes the form of random flashes of completely insignificant memories, such as an image of being in the outdoor lunch area of the middle school I went to for half of sixth grade, with nothing in particular going on.
6. brainiacfive once identified me, from a distance of approximately thirty yards in a crowded amusement park, by my scream.
If you wanna, consider yourself tagged. :-)