Nice and sneezy.

On the way back from a training session, (work-based, not S&M), my fellow graduate Project Manager behind me sneezed. Several times.

Not an interesting or startling event, I hear you think (and I can hear you think, dear reader; RSS stands for Reads Surfer's Surmises) and you would be right, but it was the manner in which she sneezed that brought about a strange train of thought I'd like to share; she made these great, whoofing noises every time, as though her nasal passages were imploding. Not that this is a ridiculous noise to make whilst sneezing, but the fact that it's so different from my sneeze raised some questions.

Now, when I sneeze, it's an epic event: the seas churn; the earth trembles; children cry blood in the streets. I have a quite loud, violent sneeze which sends me flying if I'm in an office chair. I also make the proper, traditional sneezing noise when I do so. My sneeze is always "Aaa-choo".

Why are our sneezes so different? It's a common reaction to stimulus which even cats have, and yet our sneezes can be so personal, so unique. We don't have unique vomiting motions, or blinks, so why does a shared response differ so much?

When I first met my girlfriend, she had a delicate, little sneeze; "Choo!" she'd go, like a Pokemon confused about its name. However, as she's grown in confidence, so has her sneeze, so that it is a proper, loud, reactive sneeze and not the adorable noise a kitten would make if someone picked it up.

So, I think sneeze reactions are personal; some people suppress them, not wanting to annoy others or being embarrassed at being so loud. Others, like myself, simply go with it and sneeze their hearts out. It's an eighth of an orgasm, you know.

One idea that did cross my mind, one which I wish was true, was that the way that you handled your first sneeze affected every other sneeze you would have in your life. You'd get Freudian Phlegm!