When I was growing up and going through grade school, junior high, high school and college, people often told me that I was weird. “You’re so weird!” people would say. Later “weird” developed into “asshole” and I’ve resided comfortably in that zone for a while…until lately.
I had kicked the “weird” thing. In fact, once I was out of high school my weirdness was pretty much gone or docile, or at least not apparent to everyone I met. But recently I have been told I’m weird by no fewer than three people. And not just a little weird, but “really weird” and “bizzare.”
I don’t want to be the weird friend. But if I must, then that’s okay because I am used to it. I just thought I had grown out of it. But maybe not. Because now that I think about it there are a tremendous amount of things I do that make me strange. Which is good because it differentiates me from the rest of you losers. And I feel orignal. And creative. Seriously! Feel me! It’s coursing through my epidermis! Sure it’s a little slimy, but it’s worth it.
Then I start to wonder what exactly it is that has made me weird. This is mostly due to a book I am currently reading about philosophy.
Anyway it’s a pretty good book and the first two chapters have covered the ancient question “Who am I?” and talked a bit about free will (that’s right Erik, free will).
At one point the author discusses how we know who we are, being that our bodies change every 7 years, so are we really a product of the person that grew up? Are the memories and experiences we have enough to make us who we are, or, should we techincally be new people every 7 years? It’s very intriguing and I wouldn’t do it justice to try and explain further, so I’ll just stop digressing….right…..MUSTARD!……..now!
So what has made me weird? Well, when I was a little kid I was always up to strange and zainy stuff. I stomped snails in my bare feet when I was three, I cracked my head open three times, I attempted to do monkey-bars with only one arm (the other had a cast on it because I broke it a few days earlier), and I was constantly trying to build things out of construx or legos and wished and prayed and hoped that they’d actually work (imagine my dismay when the completion of my Proton Pack made entirely of Construx failed to help me bust any actual ghosts…or just fry something up real hot). I was also under the impression my GI Joe’s came to life at night and gaurded me in my sleep, and developed an undying respect for The Muppets. Especially Janice. Total. Babe.
But none of that could really make me weird. Except maybe the head-splitting thing. I guess that could’ve caused some sort of brain trauma. But I imagine if that were the case there would be negative side-effects, and we all know that there is nothing wrong with me, and that I am terrific.
In closure I’d like to apologize to anyone I have thoroughly weirded out over the years. This includes everyone I have ever met since most people think I am incredibly weird when they first meet me. Or so I’m told. I still think I’m tough muffins. No doubt I’ll continue to be strange so get used to it or get lost! I don’t really know why I posted this. I really phoned it in today. Here’s a brief dialogue:
Jesus: Hey…hey Andy.
Jesus: You ever just want to like, to like buy a boat. To buy a boat and just sail?
Jesus: Me either. I’d rather go zombie-hunting or something like that.
Andy: Dibs on the shotgun!
Jesus: Aw fiddlesticks!
“Dibs on the shotgun”
Get out of my head!
I totally have to update your link on my blog. Nice to see that you’re posting again.
I, too, am extremely weird. And I’m starting to get comfortable with it…
Funny, I think your “weirdness” is why I still talk to you today, 8 years after high school, and I don’t talk to the rest of the suburb dwelling, straight line walking, crate & barrel shopping, according to Jim watching, bank working, radio pop listening, mindless worker bees that are two trips to the Olive Garden away from being completely unconscious.
Please don’t change.