Maybe that’s my problem: I pick up weirdoes. Maven says weirdoes just glom on to me, that I wear them in my aura. I think she’s right--it’s been a problem since my childhood. I always thought I was just being nice to people, and I WAS nice. I was nice to people who weren’t even cheerleaders, and they glommed onto me until my cool friends noticed and I had to start ignoring them.
Over the years I’ve tried to change to attract more normal people but I don’t think I’m a good judge of normalcy plus, to tell you the truth, I don’t think normal people want that much to do with me—they just stay away. Normal people can somehow sense the vibration of a person who resides on the far side of the bell curve from a mile away. That’s probably why I don’t really even see any normal people. They sense me coming and move away before I get a glimpse of them. I’m like Pig Pen carrying around a murky cloud of lost souls whining and snapping in my aura. I’m sure this frightens the poor normal people and, with a slightly terrified glint in their eyes, they just skittle away—sideways, like little crabs. (No! That wasn’t fair--these are normal people—they don’t skittle!)
Take Barbie for instance. Barbie had to move to Seattle to get away. Barbie and I were way into Ken Wilber for a while. No, he’s not a screen writer, he’s a New Age philosopher and I was hoping that reading him would make me more normal and would attract more normal people into my life. (See how deep the problem goes?) Barbie wanted to order Ken’s entire signed works just so she could have a set of books that said “To Barbie, From Ken”. Hahahahahaha. That would have been worth the $150 or so worth of brain-numbing text.
I'm famous I'm famous I'm famous!
I love all your blogs--they are great! Insteresting, creative, and most of all FUN. Keep on writing 'cause I want to keep on reading.
Posted by: BarbieBlogger | December 21, 2003 at 06:00 PM