I told Mike that sometimes I write a blog and then delete it because I just wanted to ‘get it out’ but then I wasn’t happy with it from a literary stand point so I just deleted it.  Which makes complete and perfect sense to me but to which he said: “You’re weird”.  I blithely countered:  “Hellooo…have you met me?”


But yes, I am weird.  I fail to see the problem with it.  Quite the contrary;  I revel in my unconventionality.  That’s a word…look it up.  No really, look it up because it’s kind of a cool definition.  Here, I’ll save you the time:


Unconventional (unconventionality):  not conventional : not bound by or in accordance with convention : being out of the ordinary


And here’s the definition of weird:  Of a strikingly odd or unusual character; strange.


Again, I fail to see the problem with being identified by these words.  There’s a beauty in the definitions here…’not bound’, ‘out of the ordinary’, ‘strikingly odd’.  They have the ring of freedom to them; of not being tethered to people’s versions of ‘normal’ or being made to fit a mold.  Yeah…I’m good with that.

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