Quirks and quarks
A Totally Random Thought
How do random thoughts pop into your mind without any warning? Where do those pests come from? The idea for this post popped into my head when I woke up to write at 5:34 a.m. The thought was: “Quirks and Quarks.” Seriously—just those two words.
Maybe it happened because I was pulling the bedspread back into place while I was still lying in bed. (Doesn’t everyone do this?) As I tugged it back, the fact that my flat sheet and blanket were still firmly tucked tight under the end of the mattress made me smile. Weird but true. Kicking one leg out from under the weighted blanket when I get warm is still something I do, too.
I guess ADHD explains some of my quirks… but mainly I believe I’m just weird. And that’s okay with me as an adult—especially because I sleep alone and don’t have to listen to questions about why I have a quirk… or the most exceptionally worthless advice on earth: “Just stop doing the weird things.” Oh wow. Thank you. I’m cured.
Okay, So Where Did “Quarks” Come From?
That explains the “quirks” part of my random thought, but where did the “quarks” part come from?
So I got up and wrote down the title of the post. A very original one. The title of this post is… drumroll please… Quirks and Quarks. Title genius, am I right?
But here’s the thing: my quirks were—and still are—fundamental to who I am. And my quirks are also the reason my dating life has always started with a meet-cute, grand romantic gestures, and a great bang (pun intended)… only to fizzle after the second or third date. Or, with the right person, last a whopping year and a half—which seems to be the shelf life of most of my relationships.
Quarks are “fundamental particles in physics that are building blocks of matter.” I read that without quarks, life doesn’t exist. And I thought: without my quirks, I would not exist.
Since they were my quirks, I labeled them “normal behavior” and never thought much more about them. But writing this relationship blog as The Cynical Romantic has forced me to notice something: my quirks didn’t just exist in my relationships. They helped define them. The staying power depended on how my romantic interest viewed my quirks—charming, manageable, or quietly terrifying.
Quirks and Quarks: Why Being Weird Might Actually Be Fundamental
If you’ve made it this far, you’re either still puzzling over whether “quirks and quarks” is a typo… or you’re ready for a deep dive into the oddities that make life interesting—and, apparently, possible.
Let’s recap: we defined quirks as those lovable (or sometimes baffling) traits that set us apart, like needing the bedspread tucked tighter than a drum or kicking one leg out from under the blanket just to “cool off.” Quarks, on the other hand, are the tiny, invisible building blocks of matter. Without quarks, the universe doesn’t exist. Without quirks… I don’t exist.
Coincidence? I think not.
Quirks Meet Quarks: The Building Blocks of You
This morning’s random thought—“Quirks and Quarks”—popped into my head like a popcorn kernel on a hot skillet and refused to leave. As I lay in bed, methodically tucking the sheets beneath the mattress (because safety, obviously), I realized how fundamental these quirks are to my daily routines.
If quarks glue the universe together, quirks glue together the story of my life—especially the romantic chapters where someone else has to live inside my orbit. And yes, I know how that sounds. Please don’t call for a straitjacket.
My Personal Quirks: Blanket Forts, Jealousy, and Party Panic
For years, I didn’t question why the bedspread had to be tucked tight, or why, when things got warm, I’d eject a single leg from under the covers like a submarine launching a torpedo. It just felt right—like the universe was in balance.
Blanket coverage was never enough for me, and returning borrowed blankets to their original location was a ritual—mostly to avoid tough questions from Mom (which, in retrospect, I couldn’t answer anyway). And who could forget those mornings when I’d fill a glass of water, drink half, dump the rest, refill, and repeat? The logic was nonexistent, but the ritual felt oddly essential—like rebooting my internal operating system.
Sometimes quirks are just inexplicable routines that comfort us, even when we’re not entirely sure why. In that way, quirks are like quarks—because most people don’t understand either, and yet we all exist anyway.
Expert Insight: Why Quirks Hang Around
On the emotional front, I used to feel irrational jealousy if my girlfriend got attention from another guy. It wasn’t logical, but the feeling wouldn’t budge until we spent time alone together. Thankfully, I like to think I grew out of that particular quirk—though, according to Dr. Gail Saltz, quirks often stem from underlying insecurities or anxieties. It’s normal to outgrow some behaviors while others linger like stubborn stains on your favorite shirt. And yes, I hate how accurate that is sometimes. [1]
Structure Is My Safety Blanket
Speaking of lingering quirks, parties were always a minefield. I could chat with friends anywhere, anytime—except at a party, where my brain would go blank and I’d wander aimlessly, nodding at random people like a confused bobblehead.
If there wasn’t a program guide, I’d consult imaginary schedules, terrified of missing something (or being left out). Turns out structure is my safety blanket, and when life gets unstructured, my quirks come out to play. Which is a cute way of saying: I get weird when I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.
Control, Sensory Stuff, and the Football Helmet Problem
Not all quirks are internal—some are very external, like my aversion to football helmets and pads. I loved football, but the moment the gear went on, claustrophobia kicked in.
As Dr. Saltz notes, quirks can be linked to sensory sensitivities or control issues—and honestly, who doesn’t want to see their surroundings before getting tackled? [1] It’s hard to feel brave when your equipment makes you feel blind.
The “Waiting for a Ride” Quirk
Finally, there’s the “waiting for a ride” quirk. If someone was picking me up, I’d start pacing thirty minutes early, unable to relax or think about anything else.
The prospect of relying on someone else’s punctuality still makes me anxious—so I mostly drive myself. Independence, it seems, isn’t just a personality trait. It’s a quirk with roots in anxiety and trust. And admitting that out loud makes me feel slightly exposed… which is probably why I’m making jokes again.
Everyone’s Weird
If you ask comedian Jim Gaffigan, quirks are what make people worth watching. In his stand-up, he pokes fun at everything from buffet behavior to sleeping habits—because the truth is, everyone has their own weird system.
His point (and I’m paraphrasing here): everybody’s weird; it’s just a matter of how much you show it. [2] Humor turns quirks into connection. When we laugh at ourselves, we take the sharp edge off vulnerability and make it shareable—like offering someone a seat beside you instead of a lecture across the room.
Embracing Quirks as Identity
After years of labeling my quirks as “normal” and glossing over them, writing this relationship blog has given me perspective. My quirks—the tucked-in sheets, the nervous pacing, the party paralysis, and all—have shaped my relationships.
Staying power depends on whether my romantic interest can accept my quirks as part of the package. Just as quarks are fundamental to matter, quirks are fundamental to personality. Without them, we’d all be dull carbon copies… and frankly, some people are already doing that job very well.
Why Being Weird Might Be the Best Thing You Can Be
Composed of Quarks and Quirks
So here’s my final word: embrace your quirks. Laugh at them. Share them. Use them to build connection.
Whether you’re tucking in sheets like a hotel maid, throwing out half-full glasses of water for no reason, or pacing before a ride, remember: those quirks aren’t flaws. They’re the little quarks that make up the matter of your life.
And if someone tells you to stop doing the weird things, just smile, thank them for their advice, and keep being wonderfully, fundamentally you.
After all, the universe is held together by quarks. Your story is held together by quirks. And that, my friend, is pure genius.
Sources & Recommended Reading Panel
Research Citations
[1] Saltz, G. The Power of Different: The Link Between Disorder and Genius.
[2] Gaffigan, J. Obsessed (stand-up special)
Suggested Reading List (humorous + relevant)
Maybe You Should Talk to Someone — Lori Gottlieb (funny and painfully human)
4 LL&S-Aligned Products
Weighted blanket (sleep + anxiety support)
CBT workbook (anxiety, thought loops, coping tools)
Noise-canceling headphones (sensory reset + focus)
