Bedazzled: A Late Night Rambling of Words

Quirky people are like the bedazzled version of regular people. They just sort of absorb a regular situation just as it is, but then spin it back out all sparkly and covered in bows. And I love them. I love walking into a room, full of strangers, where I’m a fish out of water, and then, something happens. Someone just blurts out something amazingly random and seemingly obscure. But I, I can connect the dots, and I instantly feel a connection. Someone that sees something different, that can speak truth in the ordinary, but, makes it pretty and relatable, not simplistic and harsh. Someone who is just, not the same as everyone else, and in the best way possible.

Chances are, quirky folks, I notice when you talk with your hands, always sit on the left side of the table, and can maintain an entire stream of conversation with me involving hypothetical ponies and the magical mayhem they get into. Oh, and those people that stand within hearing distance of those conversations, looking at us like we’re crazy? Jealous. They are fighting a deep urge to join in with, “Hey, and maybe they could grow wings that are like brown and purple and we could call them Peanut Butter & Jelly Ponies, or like PB& J P for short!” They want to say it, but they just aren’t as cool as we are.

In case you haven’t noticed, the kid who gets picked last for dodge ball? That’s me. Because instead of focusing on the whole main point of dodge ball, I’m thinking: “I wonder if there’s an equation that can accurately express the exact velocity and impact levels that are about to commence during this activity.” “Why did they choose a red ball? Maybe it has color symbolism, like red is powerful or something, so it’s like this giant mass of red energy hurling through the air at you or something? Why not blue? A nice calming blue that lightly calls, ‘catch me!’ or something. I’ve probably read more books that involve dodge ball more times than I’ve actually played the game. Whenever I did play it I was always the girl that stuck out her hand and was like ‘Psst, right here...’ and tried to get out asap, before the instinctual violent tendencies of pre-adolescent youth reared their ugly faces.

 I don’t even know where I’m going with this, it’s late and I’ve lost track of my point, except that sometimes I wonder if it’s just me? Because I often get myself into situations where I can see the quirks of others as being wonderful, but my own odd tendencies as just a weird mutant form of quirky. That’s the root of the problem of being quirky. Sometimes it’s endearing, and offers a chuckle to the group, but at the end of the day, you go home and you wonder, Man, am I really the only one? Overall, I think I’m in pretty good company; it’s just that most people tend to keep their really dazzling quirks hidden. Sadly. There has got to be others that refuse to read the backs of books, that have a fascination with post-it notes, hate hand sanitizer, and eat salads with their fingers. There’s just gotta be. Or maybe you drink wine with a straw, can hold an entire conversation in rhymes, or have a love of crayons that just defies explanation. If so, I think we could be friends.

 Today, in fact, I was able to reach out to a friend through a very emotional time. I was watching an old episode of Roswell (think Dawson’s Creek having a love child with, I don’t know, maybe Smallville? But like, a really beautiful, brilliant love child, with brown eyes. ) on DVD no less, when I had a full blown meltdown regarding a plot twist. Yes, a plot twist involving futuristic aliens and true love, wrapped in a Sheryl Crow song circa 2003. This is how I know that my life is amazing. Because when I was audibly weeping, I had someone to text, and reach out to. That was able to make me feel better. Even though I’m a bundle of weird, I have these amazing friends, that don’t care. Or rather, they do care. It just doesn’t really bother them how odd I am. It probably bothers me way more than it bothers them. So thank you to my friends, that know me and love me just the same, and for seeing the bedazzled pieces of me and thinking that they’re not so bad at all.