May 11, 2018

Keepin' it Weird since 1982

Friends, it's time to get back to blogging... For those of you that I've yapped at incessantly about things that seem, well, completely irrelevant, I am at least slightly sorry for not respecting your time... It's just that sometimes it's hard to find geeks with similar interests in the vicinity... I mean, I live in Middletucky. Chances are, if I'm not talking about needles, Narcan, Trump, or guns- I'm probably boring the hell out of  a decent percentage of citizens here. It actually kind of irks me that these are the things people want to sit around fussing about. I mean, I would think that a conversation about how my butt cheeks are semi-permanently imprinted on the organ bench at church would be a welcome break from all of that miserable stuff. Apparently this kind of openness makes people uncomfortable. What can I say? Having appropriate social skills has never been one of my strengths.

Well, to spare you from personal awkwardness and consequently leaving you at a loss for words, I figured I'd start blogging. My thoughts come out a little more ordered this way. Don't expect me to be any less random, but at least I can weed out the parts where I make a bold effort to relate to you in normal conversation. Likewise, you don't have to give me the complimentary "uh huh", or small talk about the weather, which, while it is true that I don't get out much, I do indeed have windows. This seems to surprise people when I mention it. Good grief. C'mon. There is now no need to safely plan your escape from what is more often than not an awkward encounter. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm coming to terms with my weirdness- and realizing that I should probably let people decide for themselves if they can handle me, without forcing the issue. STOP READING HERE if you are feeling dizzy, confused, or short of breath. Side effects include, but are not limited to, okay... You made it past that. I promise it's not contagious!

You know, I was thinking about weird people today. I remember going into this comic book store with Dad a couple years ago or so. There were these people eating pizza while playing some role play game supposedly similar to Dungeons and Dragons. I have never played those types of games before, but I have a feeling I just wouldn't have the imagination needed for it...  Anyway, it was, well, just plain weird! I told Dad to hurry up. I don't really know what I was afraid of, honestly, but I observed this group of strange people as they laughed through their noses while noisily slurping their saliva. It really creeped me out. In a way, I admired that they were all mutually weird. And together. Sometimes I yearn for that... But then the thought crossed my mind that I wouldn't really be surprised if one day I heard on the news that they were part of some strange cult that raised alpacas in a cave on a Skittles only diet.

I just wonder... If I were to create a group of like-minded weirdos, what would that look like? Who would be part of it? What would we sit around talking about? What would we do for fun? What might we do to make the world a better place? Would we allow normal people to join?

Normal people... Hmm... It seems the world needs some of those in a very practical way... But here's the thing. I think it's s a scam. Nobody is normal. Or if you want to be optimistic, I guess you could make the argument that everybody is normal, because being weird is completely normal. Anyway, Some are just better at pretending to be normal. I mean, maybe it's the normal looking people, with normal names like Linda or Steve, a Honda CR-V, a home in the Whispering Breeze subdivision, a various number of children who are both honor students AND competitive soccer players, and a Golden Retriever- maybe it's these people that get hired for the normal jobs- you know, the ones where you have to adhere to a schedule and go to meetings and use words like "quintessential" and "elucidate", but most importantly pretend that your life is wonderful, while always appearing classy and sophisticated. Well, I suppose they get the job done... I also believe many other people could do just as well- but society just has these standards that seem unattainable to me. I would never be happy living that life. Except the Golden Retriever. And possibly the CR-V. Well, and quite possibly the house. But definitely not the kids and the classiness. And I'd never pass as a Linda, and I definitely don't think I'd be a very convincing Steve. Anyway, I digress...

I just wish that we lived in a world where we could all be true to ourselves- to do what we love. We are all so unique, with so many different gifts, talents, and interests. If we were all able to do what we were called to do, without all of the rules and standards for what kind of person should do this or that, or what that person should look like or act like- I mean, people would surely be happier and more willing to work with one another, right? To be needed, and to do our part without sacrificing who we were created to be... Is this just a pipe dream? Wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone had the opportunity to do what they love, without having to pretend to be Linda or Steve? I think it's terribly sad to hear of people who hate their jobs, but must do it to pay the bills. Most of us have been there at some point or another- but wouldn't that coffee perk you up more if the person serving it was happy, and enjoyed their job? Doesn't music sound better when it comes from the heart? Even when we flub things up, or when we are a bit down, life is happier and better when we are sincere and genuine. Everyone deserves a passionate vocation. Oh gosh... I'm getting too sensational. It's making me nervous.

Look... We're all weird... But that doesn't mean weird people don't weird other weird people out... Like those people in the comic store... So don't be a weirdist. We're not all the same, and we don't all look alike. We are all wonderfully unique, and we should celebrate our differences. I do, however, want to figure out that subcategory of weird that I fall under- and to find folks to connect with. I just don't know that there can ever be a logarithm created for that. I guess it is true that people are sent into our lives for a reason (whether good or bad). Just gotta figure out who is compatible!

I'm under the impression that so-called normal people find their friends in Yoga class. Because jamming your head between your legs while touching your nose to your tailbone without passing gas is clearly how you respectably earn your friends.

I'll take the #3 with a side of no thanks, please!