Yeah, that’s me. I have been called many things in my quarter century on the planet: weird, odd, eccentric, goofy, wise (but I think the friend who said that was stoned or drunk, or both), blunt, dorky, we could keep going with this, but I think you get my point. Anyway, I was told today, yet again, that I was weird (and I totally admit to being weird by the way….I’m not in denial about any of the things I’ve been called….well the ones I listed above anyway) and as usual, I asked why. I’m always curious to know why people consider me weird. So I was told I was weird because I find some things innapropriately funny. I was going to protest, but then a myriad of images from my past hit my brain…namely of times when I have been doubled over-in tears-gasping on the floor laughing for several minutes while everyone else stands around looking perplexed, trying to understand what exactly I found so funny. And really, I don’t know what’s so funny sometimes. Maybe it’s the tone of someone’s voice, like it was today, or maybe it is me expecting one thing to come out of the other person’s mouth, and something entirely different comes out that I don’t expect. I don’t know, but there are just some times where I find myself laughing hysterically over things that, well, just aren’t that funny. Likewise, sometimes I cry for absolutely no sane reason either. I was reading Harry Potter today (and whatever positive or negative comments you have over that, just keep them to yourself….too many bloggers are either bragging about not reading it or standing proud and confessing to reading it….I could care less either way, I just wanted to know what happens)and so far several characters have died. No problem. But one relatively minor character bit it and I started crying. Just like I started crying when Eddie Kaspbrack died towards the end of Stephen King’s “IT”. Like, I had to put the book down and take a break, I was crying so hard. Last night I stayed on Skype with Cabana Boy while he dozed off and after I hung up I really fought the urge to bawl. Can’t tell you why. I really don’t know. I just tend to have these weird and innapropriate fits of emotion.

So I guess it seems, first and foremost, I am chronically innapropriate. For some reason that gives me the sudden urge to go cut one in public, pick my nose and pick a wedgie all at the same time. I guess the question is then, would doing that make me laugh or cry?