Guest Posts: the ultimate taboo

Because ya’ll, I’m a nose picker.

Before I get going, if you just arrived here, I’m Noelle from The Daily Tannenbaum, and I’m guest posting on this blog today. This post started on my blog, so if you want the whole story and some context, you’re going to have to read the first half of the post here.

So where was I? Oh yes, my taboo and my guilty pleasure. I love to pick my nose, which is the most unacceptable, vile and socially destructive thing a person can do these days. Thanks to advances in feminism and casual Fridays, one can now burp in mixed company and still end up happily married, and one can even throw up all over a friend’s couch and still get laid. That very night, in fact.

But heaven forbid you get caught trying to clear out your nasal passages with your index finger! You will forever be labeled “other” and you might as well go pin a scarlet letter (any letter will do) on your chest, because you will never be seen in respectable company again.

Being a nose picker means constantly skating on thin ice. I cannot concentrate on the things I need to do if I feel that there’s a boogie up there, and sometimes blowing into a tissue is not enough to get clean, especially when the boogies are crusty. If I’m sitting at my desk, I can try and hide behind my monitor for a quick sweep, but if anyone even catches a glimpse of what I’m doing, forget about ever getting a raise or a promotion. Nose pickers do not move up the corporate ladder.

When I’m driving in my car, nose picking comes so naturally with the monotony of getting from A to B, sometimes I forget that I’m not driving an Escalade with tinted windows. I mean, I would never pick my nose if I was just walking down the street, but somehow add some plastic and glass, and it’s like I’ve got a free pass. I really worry that someday I’m going to get into an accident and suffer injuries to my index finger and nose, and those people at the ER, they’ll know why. However, on the occasions where I’m driving and not picking my nose, I’ll sometimes encounter someone else who is, and it is disgusting, and I immediately judge and dislike that person.

Because that’s the other thing: just because I pick does not mean I can tolerate other people who pick. I once saw a lady in the subway go at it for at least three stops, and that was years ago, and I’m still disgusted. In high school, I saw a boy I had a crush on dig for gold, and my crush dissolved instantly. Like that. I am fully aware that it’s a gross and horrifying act. Taboo, in fact. And why?

I mean, the nose, it’s not much different than everything else on the face. And guess what? It’s all connected. Anyone who’s ever had any kind of sinus issue can attest that the nose, the throat, the mouth, the ears and the eyes all sort of meet up in the same place behind the face. And I’ve seen people touch all of those other places without being ostracized. In fact, the right person can even make a finger in the mouth look downright sexy. But the nose, that is the snot factory, and snot’s not cool. That’s the best reason I can come up with for the nose picking taboo.

I also want to add here, in case you ever meet me in person, that I’m an avid hand-washer, and I keep Purell with me at all times, and actually use it...

But still, that doesn’t change the fact that I always have been and always will be a nose picker. Like an alcoholic hiding booze, or a dieter hiding chocolate, I hide my secret shame every time I’m behind closed doors. I can’t stop, because it feels so, so good. I worry that blogging about this topic might cause me to lose some of my devoted readers, including anyone who may have just discovered me through this guest post. However, if my writing today inspires just one person to come out of the closet as a proud nose picker, then it will have all been worth it.

Thanks for having me Erikka!