I'm Just Not Normal ...

I have decided (and not in recent times) that I am absolutely not normal.

In fact anything that normal people do or don’t do, I probably do the opposite. The jury is still out on whether or not this is a blessing or a curse.

Take, for instance, my new found fascination with isolated countries.

 Yes, you read that correct.

Fascination with isolated countries.

I have actually spent at least three hours reading about North Korea on the internet. How North Koreans eat, how they live, how they are persecuted and of course how they are isolated. I could blame it on the recent death of Kim Jung Il but I would be lying. The truth is, I’m just not normal, so I’m just not interested in normal things.

I am willing to bet if I turn around to my co-workers right now and say “Hey, you know what is pretty interesting, North Korea!” they will look at me like I have five heads. Or maybe they won’t because they are desensitized to my abnormality.

 It has gotten that extreme.

People are desensitized.

hat is how not normal I really am.

Okay, so maybe some of you find North Korea fascinating. Allow me to provide for you another example. I am pretty sure that barring any ten year old, I have the most active imagination of any human being alive. I live in an alternate universe. I am imagining all sorts of crazy things at all sorts of crazy times. People wonder why I can’t remember what they say. Here’s the truth, because my imaginary world is far cooler than this one, so I am busy living in it while you are busy talking. I get so wrapped up in my imaginary fog that it actually takes my head a few minutes to readjust to the real world.

 Normal? I think not.

But lots of creative people have active imaginations. Consider JK Rowling or Tolkien. They had to be so wrapped up in a fantasy world they couldn’t even differentiate between real and imaginary, so obviously there are other abnormal people who have managed to become successful. I am abnormal and not successful. Maybe that is the real problem.

Besides isolated countries and imaginary worlds, another one of my abnormal preoccupations is death. Not in the morbid sense, more in the curious sense. As in, “what would happen if so and so died” or “what does it feel like to die” or “what would people do if I died”. I have an entire funeral planned for myself and I have made sure other people know precisely what I want. Usually they try to shut me up and tell me not to talk about it but HELLO everyone dies. This is a fact. So it is necessary to think about every once in a while. Or every day. Whatever suits you.

FYI: My funeral guidelines include no one wearing black, Steph having the right to deny entrance to anyone I did not like in life who comes for show to my services, a bad ass honest eulogy (saying something like Liz was totally NOT normal) and some Ryandan song playing at some period of time.

See? I don’t even want my funeral to be normal. And unless you are eighty you probably don’t have funeral requirements. NOT. NORMAL.

I could probably go on for pages on how I am not like a normal person but I don’t want to bore  you with an abnormal blog post about myself. If you know me, you know what I’m talking about. If you enjoy my company, you may want to assess your level of normalcy or maybe you like me because your level of normalcy is just right and you like a little dose of crazy. Or maybe you don’t like me. Your loss.

One more thing, if anyone tells me there is no such thing as normal I WILL get angry. There IS a such thing as normal, and it is the opposite of me. The end.