Sneezy Was Also A Dwarf

Thai food makes me sneeze, evidently.
   So does the dusty inside of a disreputable muffler shop.
   And being in a ship on the ocean. But being in the ocean itself does not make me sneeze.
   Trying not to think about sneezing makes me sneeze. So does looking at a lit flourescent tube. Really.
   Picking my nose while driving my truck past the intersection of Third and Highland in Los Angeles made me sneeze more often than not. I have no idea why, but I did test it out and the results are better than chance.

I'm not an allergic person, no pet dander, no pollen, no milk products, no peanuts, no shellfish. As far as I know I'm not allergic to anything, never have been. I'm pretty sure it's because of all the dirt my parents let me eat when I was a kid. And yet, for some reason, those things I outlined above will make me sneeze. Every time.
   Why?
   Would someone tell me why I can walk into a Thai restaurant and sneeze immediately even though I haven't sneezed in days? Doesn't happen for a Japanese restaurant, or Korean, or Italian, or German, or even a McDonald's. But the moment I walk into a place where the waitresses wear brocaded full-length skirts, the sneeze is on.
   Is it psychosomatic? What trauma in my past life led me to associate sneezing with Mee Krob? Better yet, how the hell do I stop?
   This kind of makes me wonder, what other things do I do unconsciously, things that don't draw attention to themselves quite like a sneeze does. Maybe I stare into the refrigerator? Maybe I twitch when I walk past a fudge shop? I don't know! It makes me crazy. Or maybe I was that way to begin with.