Normalcy, Weirdness, and Lonerism

I’ve tried online dating a couple times. On one of my favorite sites, there is a bank of thousands of questions you may pick and choose answer to give other people insight to your personality, preferences, beliefs, etc. Some of the questions are funny, and some are serious. Some aren’t questions at all. For example, one of my favorites just says this:  Normal or Weird? I chose weird.

Normal is boring and plain, like vanilla ice cream; hot dogs and French fries with no ketchup; white walls; familiarity. I actually like these boring, plain things, but they also make me weird. I love vanilla ice cream. The first time I ever had Blue Bell’s Homemade French Vanilla, I fell in love, and it was the only ice cream I had for a year! I don’t need sprinkles (blech!), chocolate sauce, or any other toppings. People say that’s weird. I love the simplicity of naked dogs and French fries. Lightly salted, crispy, fried potatoes, and juicy goodness of meat you’d rather not know where it came from against soft, fluffy bread…why would you want to tamper with that? Yep, that’s weird too. So, what does that mean? Normal is relative. So is weird! Everyone is both normal and weird in their own ways. I love the conversations chapter 8.8 struck. They definitely confirmed the relativity of what it means to be weird.

A lot of you out there who keep up with this crazy saga are also writers. I made up a word yesterday:  lonerism. One thing that came out of those conversations yesterday was that a lot of you out there are just like Mia (and me). We’re all a bunch of loners! I suppose we would have to be given the time and energy we put into such awesome stories. But lonerism goes beyond stealing time away to go do something like writing. I’m sure there are plenty of writers who are very extraverted who need to be alone to write. I believe that lonerism, or introversion if you will, is a unique gift. A lot of people look at us and say that we’re weird. We’re not weird. We’re gifted! I once read that introversion at its core is all about the conservation of energy, believe it or not. I believe it’s true. Everyone has a certain energy level, and the loner’s energy level is much lower. That certainly explains why we’re exhausted after socializing for a while. But how awesome is it that the only thing we need to do to charge our batteries is to just be alone! Doing what? Doesn’t matter. We just need to be alone. Some people have to have to spend loads of money on vacations to get away, but we can get away in the privacy of our own homes. Our own minds even. I think it’s cool to be able to work through a problem quietly alone without having to involve the entire world. Although, I should probably do that less often seeing as how it’s made me to be the suffer in silence type. There are “weird” things about being a loner, and I can proudly admit that, but overall, lonerism is pretty darn awesome. I think it makes life simple. I don’t require much, and I don’t need much. A lot of what I need, I can find within myself (and God 🙂 ).

I think it’s funny how our brains work. It’s a known fact that most people are either good at writing or good at speaking. Very few people are actually brilliant in both areas of communication. Although I know that, it still baffles me that I’m not good at both. I love words. I like to think I use them well. I treasure them, and I don’t like for them to be wasted (which is why I prefer talking only when I need to say something). “Chatty Cathy” has never been a superlative used to describe me :-). However, with a pen in my hand, or keys under my fingers, something happens. I wish I could explain it, but I suppose it’s just one of those things. Suddenly words I had been reluctant to say spill all over the screen and pages in my journals. I could write five pages about my day, but if you ask me how my day was, you know exactly what I’d say. “Fine.” Those of you who are with me know exactly how many synapses were fired and how many waves of emotion wash over me in the one second it takes to say “fine” and how and why “fine” is a perfectly acceptable answer if at least for the protection of the person asking. When I need to give comforting words to someone, I’ve got nothing. But if I were to write them down, I feel like I could heal the world of all of its sadness. How does this work? How is it that the same brain that can write such beautiful words is the same brain that has to force words into sentences? It’s like my brain has two streams, and whenever words come floating down, they’re always routed down the same one stream. I dunno. It’s strange. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not an awkward churchmouse who can’t function in life–although, I used to be. The older I get, the more comfortable I get with talking. Strangers and acquaintances can’t even tell that I’m an award-winning actress ;-). But that goes back to the whole concept of loners conserving energy. We need to be alone to recover from everything we have to do to appear normal! We expend energy all day smiling and talking and laughing (genuinely, or not) and being social. A lot of times we enjoy doing this, but we can’t do it for long. At some point we need to retreat and recharge so we can do it all over again. We can recharge our own batteries folks! It’s a super power.

THE END (<– only about five of you will be able to appreciate why this is really funny lol)