Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Reason #189

That My Momz Is Da Shiz
That's a shot of my black pair of MediPeds, the diabetic socks my Momz brought me a few weeks ago.  Now, I actually only have faux diabetes, onset by my rampant hypochondria.  But my Momz is always pretty good about humoring me.  Kind of like that Christmas she bought me a stained glass Hanukah box after I'd spent the whole year insisting I was a Jewish*.  

I should add that this generous gift of diabetic socks was made in addition to the gift of the green wig.  *Sigh*

I was driving home from the gym today, incredibly sweaty and feeling totally obese (I accidentally looked in the big wall mirror while working out) when I spotted two cutie pie high school hipsters in black leggings and flannel shirts walking down the road, touting a bag of KFC, and waving to people as they skip along the busy road.  

I immediately broke into a huge grin, rolled down my window and waved back.   Then I'm positively euphoric the rest of the way home. 

You know why?  Because I fucking love weirdos.  I'm a huge weirdo myself, and that self-awareness is probably a reason why I'm so fond of other eccentrics.  

People don't even have to be the same kind of weirdo I am in order to tickle my fancy; they just have to exhibit a commitment to rejecting the norm and a dedication to individuality.  I should save that sentence for the "Mission Statement" of the self-sufficient preschool co-operative I'm going to open up on a deserted island one day.  

N-E-Wayzzz

My Momz is a lot tamer than I am, but we're the same type of weirdo.  The Butler, however, is of a different ilk of misfits.  

Last night, for example, we went out for coffee and The Butler, who had attended the Nationals game earlier in the day, pulled out baseball stat sheets and started filling them in with little symbols and numbers.  I gazed across the table at my RainMan-esque boyfriend.  I love that he does weird shit like that.**  

In other newz, today is Jackie Robinson Day, but it's also Tax Day.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Of course they make the black dude's special day fall on what is also the shittiest day in U.S. federal law (especially in this economy).  

And see? That one parenthetical comment makes me politically relevant.  

*I wanted to be Jewish not because of any particular religious convictions, but because being persecuted for my faith seemed glamorous at the time.  Also, because if you call someone a Jew, it sounds inappropriate for some reason and I felt my own Judaism would give me license to call everyone Jews.  Turns out it doesn't.  Lame sauce.  

**Ten more minutes of his ignoring me to copy down baseball stats was considerably less endearing.   

3 comments:

  1. I love weirdos too. That is the thing I hate about living in suburbia - no weirdos!

    I thought you were on fake vacation today.

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  2. It's called "scoring a baseball game".

    Want me to tell you the story of the time the Reds beat the Mets 5-4 on opening day? Lemme get my scorecard....

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  3. I work at a college and there was a dude walking around campus "singing" at the top of his lungs the other day. I smiled like an idiot all the way back to my office.

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