In Which I Prove Once Again, That I am a Weirdo
I really wish people would stop calling me a weirdo like it is an insult. Am I weird? Absolutely. Do I wish I was anything else? Absolutely not.
My dad called me recently and told me that he had just watched a documentary about a 40 year old woman who was very “weird and eclectic” and she lives in New York City and no one ever married her and now she is having a son with her gay best friend. He called to tell me about this because it really reminded him of me and he’s worried I’ll turn out that way because I am eclectic. I am 25 dad…..I think I’ve got some time. And if that is how my life turns out, I will be happy! And you will be happy for me because I would sincerely be happy.
I wonder when people will start realizing that there are no right or wrong ways to do things. There is no normal. Normal doesn’t exist and if you think you are normal, I feel sad for you and all the weird you are missing out on.
I like being weird. I like that I never succumbed to pressure to be normal. Because then I wouldn’t be funny, or interesting, or smart. I may not have moved to NYC by myself from Seattle. If I wasn’t weird I would never be able to make my friends double over in laughter at the funny things I did.
I like being weird. I like that I was the WB Frog for halloween and no one got it. I like that last halloween I dressed as the Cookie Monster people loved it AND I got laid doing it.
I like that when I am stressed out it makes me feel better to punch the air while singing “You’re the best around! Nothins ever gonna bring you down!” and I think that pretending to tap dance in the middle of a bar is funny.
I am a weirdo! I own it, and the worst thing you could do is call me normal. I love my life and who I am.
To all the other weirdos: Keep doing it. Don’t let people tell you that you’re not perfect just the way you are. I promise you’ll find your niche and your people. We weirdos are out here, just keep looking!