I opened a book and pointed to a random word. Scare. That is my inspiration for this Quickie. Think of it as an improvised monologue inspired by "scare."
Normal people are scary. You always know what to expect from them, and that gives me the willies. Plus, normal people feel so high and mighty, being at the pinnacle of the bell curve of normality, that they tend to get judgmental about the rest of us. And I never fare well with judgmental people.
Yes, I am judging judgmental people which makes me bad (hand slap, face slap, slap on the ass...oops, that was fun in a distracting, non-bloggy way. Where was I?) And, yes, I'm basing my sweeping, gross generalizations and anti-normal bias on the assumption that I am not normal. And neither are you. Well, at least most of you aren't. And I mean that in the kindest possible way.
I started contemplating the downside of "normal" a couple months ago when a friend described a woman thusly, "I can't say there is anything particularly unpleasant about her. She was just really, you know, normal." Sneer implied.
"Oh," I responded gravely. "Normal. I see."
My friend nodded with a frown, "I know. I know. It's bad."
See, the problem with normal is that there is only one possible way to be it. For the same reason, I don't like taking ballet classes. There is only one way to plie in ballet, and my bootie can't do it. Jazz dance, on the other hand, allows for variation in style. As does "not normal." There are so many splendid variation on not normal. And people in my general demographic (over 30, say) who are openly and proudly not normal tend to celebrate their weirdness.
So as we go into the weekend, let's make sure we hug a not-normal person at some point. Even if it means wrapping your arms around your own damn self.