In Praise of Nose Picking

*peers around*

Liza here, feeling guilty for not having guest blogged yet, even though I was all excited about the idea when Trista asked for volunteers.

It's a little bit intimidating to take on entertaining someone else's audience -- what if I say something stupid, and it reflects badly on Trista? But today, reading Plimco's wonderful post about a somewhat embarassing moment of nose picking in traffic, made me remember that the whole point of blogging is to expose your embarassing moments to the world. I owe it to Trista to share something similarly real for the entertainment or boredom of Accident readers.

I actually love the idea of filling Trista's blog with stories of nose picking in traffic, so I'll share mine.

Back when I lived in Washington DC, I was stopped at a light at the intersection of 20th & Constitution, NW one evening, waiting to turn left towards home. Next to me, waiting to turn right towards Virginia, was a car full of 20-ish year old guys.

I noticed them, because they were frantically waving at me, and picking their noses with gigantic, exaggerated affect. All of them. And pointing at me.

Yup, sure 'nuff. I was spacing out at the traffic light, picking my nose. To the intense amusement of some GWU frat house, no doubt.

What I wish I had done was exaggeratedly pick back, or do something else weird and gross and funny. But I was too embarassed. Instead, I turned bright red and pretended -- for the entire incredibly long traffic light -- that I didn't see what they were doing.

Also, back in the 5th grade, my nickname was Booger Girl. I have a long and rich history of nose picking.

What about you?

Posted by Trista @ 7:10 PM

Read or Post a Comment

Oh yay, I'm glad there are more of us. We are LEGION.

I used to pick my nose before I went to bed. I shared a room with my big sister. We had twin beds and matching pink bed spreads with white pin stripes.

I'd wipe my precious boogers on the wall in the dark in the night. They were snotty stringy affairs.

When we moved from that house, we pulled my bed out from the wall and there was my enchanted booger garden. Hundreds of them. Encrusted on the wall.

My disgusted parents made me clean the wall. They chipped the paint off, my boogers, so strong was their gooey snotty zest for clinging.

My boogers are powerful.

Posted by Blogger Plimco @ 8:09 AM #

wow. These booger stories are great! I never got busted for boogie diving. But I did have an awful knack for getting caught picking wedgies for a while...

Posted by Blogger Calliope @ 9:01 AM #

I blogged about it.

I'm a nose picker too!

Posted by Blogger Shelli @ 10:55 AM #

"enchanged booger garden"

Can there be a better phrase in the English language? Plimco, you have a gift!

Posted by Anonymous Liza @ 11:27 AM #

that would be "enchanted" not "enchanged."

No eating and blogging and answering the phone at the same time. That's a new rule.

Posted by Anonymous Liza @ 11:28 AM #

More nose-picking stories? Cool! Okay--when I was in 4th grade, extremely socially inept, and more than a little dumb, when it came to nose picking, I operated under the "if I can't see them, then they can't see me" principle. I would put my book on top of my desk, and open it up, like I was reading it, and excavate while I was thus hidden. Of course everyone knew what I was doing, and I was also Booger Girl!

One more. My first roommate when I moved to Utah from Texas was not a kindred spirit. And she had a really ugly couch with a grotesque pattern. If you ate avocado, parsley, spinach, and pineapple, and then puked, it would look like that couch. My sister, when she came over to visit, would pick her nose and smear the boogers on the couch. She said that it's not like anyone would ever notice, with that disgusting pattern. And besides, she hated my roommate. Fair enough, I suppose. I never sat on the couch again the whole time I lived there, though!

Posted by Blogger Faith @ 4:08 PM #

HAHAHAHA! These are some great stories!

Mine--when I was little, I used to call my boogers "nummies". One day I crawled onto my dad's lap as he was taking a dip of chewing tobacco. I fished out a winner of a booger and said to him while sticking my nummy in his face. "I'll give you my nummy for some of your nummies"

Also, I remember reading somewhere that nosepicker/eaters are smarter by a few IQ points and healthier than non-picker eaters............

verification word--pyzap

Posted by Blogger Lizzardbits @ 10:13 PM #

I've been picking my nose whilst reading these stories. It's fun.

Posted by Anonymous Jen in NY @ 11:58 PM #

hmm, sitting here in Portland, reading these stories on my innocent little blog... They are pretty appropriate, actually, since Julia discovered her nostrils and how well her finger fits up them on this trip. She also discovered MY nostrils and how well her finger fits up them. I woke up one morning to her picking my nose!

A few months back I posted a poem about my little sister in which I relate that her boyfriend's furniture (that she had moved into her house) was covered in boogers when my parents helped her move...

I'll post on it when I get back. Or may be a little later today.

Posted by Blogger Trista @ 4:54 PM #
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