I’ll admit it.
I’m a little weird. I’m not crazy
yet, but I’m not your typical… well, the problem with being atypical is that there aren’t categories to fit in. It took me a while to realize that I was weird, and even longer to come to terms with it.
Honestly, I’ve been blocking my best friends out every time they’ve mentioned it in the last two years. I know- I’ve got the skills of selective hearing and denial mastered. But now I’m starting to see they may be right. And in light of thinking about good things, I can see the pros here.
I do have a fervent passion for the Pilgrims. But if I don’t, who will? They deserve it. And so does Helen Keller. I’ll always stick up for her.
And maybe I put spinach in my smoothies. You can’t taste it. And I need all of the nutrients I can get.
However, I definitely do not sleep with a wonderful cuddly blanket named Blanka if that’s what you’re thinking. No way. I’m 20 years old. (But if I also had a purely hypothetical large stuffed puppy, his named would probably be Oswald.)
I will admit that it may be somewhat strange that I get flutters in my heart when I think about Gorgas Library. or Starbucks. or wildflowers. or the Great Gatsby. (Perhaps I should be a little worried that I may just have a heart condition.)
On second thought, it is definitely the flowers. That’s a pro.
I’m not even going to lie about this one: I get down. Badly. Anywhere. Maybe the odd thing is that I have no intention of stopping. Ever. I don’t know if that’s good news or bad news for you.
And yes, I realize most people don’t yell out, “Pull over!” from the backseat because we have to take a picture in front of that storm cloud! But they’re missing out. We’re not.
I’ll agree that it’s a little
sad peculiar that my coolest hidden talent is popping my jaw. But I do like to break it out at parties. It can keep a crowd entertained for at least 4.8 seconds.
But like I said, I’m okay with owning my individualism and honing my identity. You may think this is weird, but I’m starting to see it as a perk.
Because the truth is, I’m not the only one.
Not even close.