I don’t know if it’s weird to merely ‘look’ weird. Like deciding to wear certain clothing or make-up or have your hair a certain way. That’s not weird. That’s just wanting to be noticed for something. Or wanting to appear a certain way.
Which is like the least weird notion there is. Self-expression. Basic, right?
I remember one of my friends telling me about how her boyfriend had to go home one night and sleep at his own house, because he had a fan in his room and she didn’t and he couldn’t sleep without a fan going. Now this was many years ago, before this kind of white-noise thing became commonplace and discussed. But at the time, I was like, “Whoa, that’s weird.” Mostly because the boyfriend seemed totally normal. He even had a normal name: John. It made me curious. How do you get to a point where you need that to fall asleep? What was his deal?
When I started living with Adrian, he’d get all mad if you started eating a meal without him. Like, really upset, because his feelings were hurt. I didn’t get this. I was like, Who cares, shovel it in. But for him, the eating was an event he was missing out on or something. (I still don’t get this, actually. I should go downstairs and ask him about it.) Nevertheless I learned to wait for him to eat; learned to call and say, Hey, I’ve gotta eat without you, that kind of thing. But isn’t that WEIRD? That’s what I think of as weird. Not if you dress like a vampire goth or drive a mail truck or speak Urdu or don’t eat meat or wear leg-warmers or like vintage death metal or whatever the hell.
I can’t take a shower without brushing my teeth first.
My sister gets itchy legs when she exercises.
My father doesn’t believe in dinosaurs.
My mother is a minister but loves to watch things like Deadwood and Big Love.
People have so much strange shit lurking beneath their exteriors. Their exteriors don’t really tell you anything.