Thursday, March 10, 2011

Please Don’t Be Offended When I Say You’re a Little Weird

I think there are different types of “weird”.

First there is “normal weird”:
The people who are “normal weird” wear regular clothes, but occasionally act goofy and say some things that don’t make any sense. They like mainstream bands because they’re not all into the music scene. They don’t know how to be individuals because they think they’ll be cool if they like what everyone else does. It doesn’t help that they don’t have a snobby niche of friends like “indie weird” people to tell them what they like.

Which brings us too… “indie weird”:
These are the people who like listening to horrible music because no one else does. They tend to despise the “normal weird” people for being too, well, normal. Also, they like brewing their own beer and/or reading poetry and being depressing. “Indie weird” is the new improved (and more stylish!) “emo weird”. They enjoy trying to be different without realizing that they’ve forced themselves to enjoy things that no one in their right mind would enjoy... Like modern art. Saying that they are “indie” is no longer cool.

Then there is “emotional weird” (not to be confused with “emo weird”):
The people who are “emotionally weird” are the ones who get offended because you forgot to say hi to them, and the ones you can never end a phone call with. You’re like, “Um, I gotta go,” and they’re like, “No you don’t, you’re just trying to get rid of me.” “Ha,” you reply back, “No, no, really, I have to go.” This escalates for about four minutes, until you’re fed up, and finally say, “Alright, man, I’m hanging up in like two seconds,” and as you press the “end call” button, they’re still talking.

Then there is “hick weird”:
I hate saying the word “hick” because it has bad connotations. Maybe “country weird” would be better? In any case, these people can’t see past the edges of their city and are confused as to how the world works. In their defense, I think everyone is confused about how the world works (including me). They believe in Capitalism but aren’t sure why and say things like “If the government tries to take my guns, I’ll shoot the government,” without realizing that most people who say this have never had the government try to do so. They like watching Glenn Beck and Bill O’reilly, and get politically involved with the Republican Party.

Then there is “Christian weird”:
These are the people who are all things Christian. They wear NOTW (Not of This World) t-shirts and have the Jesus fish on the back of their car, along with a bumper sticker that says, "Smile, God Loves You!" Turn on their stereo, and Tenth Avenue North or Casting Crowns will be playing. They buy these mints, but they aren’t just any mints. They’re called “Testa-mints”. Apparently they taste better than regular mints because they were made by a Christian company, and Christian companies make their mints "to the glory of God."

There are definitely more “weirds” out there, including (but not limited to) the “stuck in the seventies weird” and the “socially incapable weird” and the “ex-girlfriends who still want to hang out with you, even though they broke up with you weird”, but there’s not enough time to go over all of them.

If I made you angry, just know I don’t really care, and you can shove it in your pipe and smoke it!

Just kidding!!!! No, mostly I was making things much worse than they really are (it was all in fun!).

Know that I was definitely poking fun at myself as well!

I don’t even know what “being myself” is, I like a lot of “indie” music and I think brewing beer would actually be fun. I do like the second amendment, and I like listening to both Glenn Beck and Bill O’reilly. I tend towards the conservative side of politics, and I like Tenth Avenue North. You can absolutely make mints for God’s glory (!); I just think the idea of a Christian mint company is silly. I guess this makes me multiple types of “weird”... Or else you think I'm the “overly critical judgmental no fun to be around weird”. But hey, that’s a lot more interesting than being normal, right?

So please don’t be offended when I say you’re a little weird (strange, odd, bizarre, peculiar, creepy, unusual).

In fact, let’s be weird together!

Friday, March 4, 2011

Accents Aren't Fair

At concerts, people shriek in delight at whatever the artist says. It doesn’t matter what they say; if they sound excited, people are happy. It’s like when you’re talking to a dog. Dogs only know voice tone, so they’re happy if you sound happy. “You stupid dog, you’re so dumb,” you say, but you sound excited saying it, and the dog wags its tail and happily hangs his slobbery tongue awkwardly out the left side of his mouth. I used to do that to my dog when I was like, seven years old. But when we get older, artists do it to us. Lame. People look funny when their tongues hang out of their mouths. 
It’s not fair when artists have accents (English, Irish, Scottish), because they have automatic advantages. Here are a few:

1.       I’ve never met someone who didn’t like hearing an accent.
2.      Their lyrics seem (are?) more interesting. Maybe profound is a better word.
3.      They sound funny when they swear. Americans sound like they’re trying too hard.

I wonder if English people think American accents are sexy…

You should read this post over again, but this time read it with an English accent. I'm almost sure I'll sound smarter (funnier, better?); and I’m completely okay with having an aura of fake intelligence. If I don't sound smarter (funnier, better?), I'm sorry you read this twice.  

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


            My flight has been delayed three hours, and I’ve been sitting here since early this morning.
            I like to think that my plane would have crashed had it left on time. Two older men are sitting close to me. “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” says the big one (and he is big, I hope I don’t sit next to him). “Take your time,” grunts the other (much skinnier), “You’ve got two hours.” He doesn’t seem happy about the delay (but who would?).
            There in the corner is an attractive woman on her iPad. She has walked down the hall twice. She knows she’s pretty, and could probably talk all day about how her life is more exciting, more enthralling, than mine. I hope I don’t sit by her.
            Then there’s the bald headed guy next to her. And he’s really into her, because he just looked at her butt when she walked down the hall. At least that’s what it looked like.

            I’ve been told my whole life that humans are communal beings, but not many people talk to each other here in the airport. They talk to their cell phones. So maybe we are communal. Just communal from a safe distance. I wonder what people did twenty years ago…

            A man pulls out a Sudoku magazine. I hate Sudoku. Only lame people like math games.

            “Our House” by Madness comes across the radio. It reminds me of home and how I want to be there instead of here. I couldn’t imagine having my home in California. Just like my California friends could never imagine having their home in Washington.

            But for me it wouldn’t feel right going anywhere else.

            People use the electric outlets greedily here. When the depression of the 1930s hit, it was greed over food. When flight delays hit, it’s greed over outlets.

            An added benefit of having the bigger battery in my computer is that I don’t have to talk to people who are using the outlets. I think everyone enjoys people watching, but very few enjoy people talking—at least to strangers.

           When I finally get on the plane, I smile at an old man sitting down five seats in front of me. I think he tried smiling back… Then there’s this small Asian woman whose face is in a continuous state of shock.

            Are the flight attendants really nice people, or do they fake it? There is a male flight attendant today. I think there’s this unspoken rule that male flight attendants are gay, but this one doesn’t seem very gay. 

            Whenever I fly home, I always drink ginger ale as my complementary drink. Then I have to pee.

            Contrary to most people’s opinion about the “lavatory,” I like feeling closed in when I go to the bathroom. There are two things I dislike about it:

  1. Many people have used it, which is gross. The maxim “ignorance is bliss” does not apply to public bathrooms.
  2. I don’t like the suction-y sound the toilet makes when you flush (it makes me feel like someone down on the ground is going to get a nice surprise).

Apart from these pitfalls, I like the smell of the soap.