Demon Straws and British Accents

Rachel - Rockford, Michigan
Entered on January 21, 2008
Age Group: Under 18
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Insane, crazy, nuts, a mental case, cuckoo, odd, weird—the description of my perfect life. I am not normal! If anyone even remarked that I was somewhat normal, I’m not sure what would happen—my head might explode. I know that I am weird. Not weird as in I pick my nose and eat the boogers or I never take showers because I like the smell of my B.O. I’m just different. It’s a good kind of different. Being unique and random makes my life and the lives of those who know me much more interesting. I’ve met people who wake up, do their routine, go home, eat, maybe watch some TV and go to sleep. Talk about boring. Once they meet a “weird” person their lives get flipped and they experience a lot more spontaneity and amusement.

I believe in being weird. But more than that, I believe in admitting and loving the fact that you’re weird because honestly, everyone is weird in some way. Once you own up to and accept your differentness it becomes a lot easier to be who you are. By repressing what you are inside, you become boring and predictable. But with the simple act of embracing what makes you so different your life can change and you can have an influence on the people around you. No one will ever be the same once they get to know me. Almost upon befriending them I will adamantly exclaim my love for Matthew Macfadyen, an actor they’ve probably never heard of. I will show them his picture in his Mr. Darcy costume that I proudly display in my room. I will explain to them that he watches me every night while I’m sleeping and I will, as I hope and expect, receive the shocked expression of, “Holy crap, this girl is nuts!” If I didn’t receive that look, that feeling of which everyone thinks I’m stalkerish and probably need to be on some sort of medication, then I will know that they are just like I am—weird and loving it.

It is those people, the ones who speak in British accents for fun, sing songs from Spamalot, go to college parties just to sing Frosty the Snowman in French while doing the motions but end up lying on the floor for no particular reason other than to be on the floor, that have all the fun. These are the people who are not afraid to be who they are and will not conform to what society expects of them. These people who share a wonderful memory of an odd moment in their life will be the ones who are a bit odd themselves. When they reminisce they will remember the Star Wars themed wedding they imagined for their best friend, the demon straw that wouldn’t stay in the can of Dr. Pepper, the predetermined Thursdays that everyone either loved or hated you, the stupid, random things they said without thinking, but they won’t regret any of it. I won’t be embarrassed when I see that familiar look of confusion nor will I try to not be who I am. Because I am weird and proud of it.