Sunday, March 20, 2011

team m and m...

One of the first blog posts I ever wrote was how I feel like a big weirdo all the time. I think some people just pop out awkwardly and never recover. This must be me. I feel like I walk around knocking over lamp posts and small buildings, bombarding everything in my path with my very loud, personality-packed weirdness.
I've tried to hide it, to shove it down. But my weirdness just come out stronger, as if to warn whomever I'm around, "Don't be fooled! She's fucking nuts!"
Look at me. Even this blog post. Weird.
This happens with my closest friends, this happens with strangers. But most often, this happens with folks I've yet to fully ruin with my weirdness. I try so hard to be normal, strange just explodes out of me. For years I've thought, if anyone ever figures out what I'm really like, I'm screwed.
There are a few people that have figured me out, and they're my best friends anyway. I was thinking about them as I drove home tonight, marveling at these most special, most treasured confidants.
I was thinking they must be weird too, to tolerate me.
And they are. They're really fucking odd.
So this weirdness that, make no mistake, is my greatest affliction, might just be the sweetest gift fate's ever given me.
I'll write another blog post in six years about how being weird sucks again. But today, tonight, I'd take every awkward moment of my adolescence, every loud-mouth regret of my twenties, every face-plant in the high school cafeteria. I'd take the fashion faux pas, the massive mistakes, the seemingly constant public humiliation that made me this way.
I'd take it all twice. Just to make sure that today, tonight, these indescribably wonderful people love me back.
Turns out, it was worth being a weirdo...


Melissa Griffin said...

IUJU! Go Robots!!

You are perfect, Shorty Boo.

Anonymous said...

I'd all-encompassingly watch your "this is your life"... (with eyes covered).