The New Girl
Quirky. Idiosyncratic. Weirdo. Spaz. I have been called all of these things and more.
Call me what you will, because I can take it.
The way I see it?
Unique. Choosy. Sensitive. Enthusiastic.
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Once when I was in elementary school, a New Girl showed up mid-year. We were all sizing her up. Little did I know, she was sizing me up, too. She shared her account with me, years later:
New Girl: I saw you sitting on the ground at recess. You were in your brownie uniform. You had a rock in your hand and were banging the rock on the ground and yelling.
Me: Like, yelling at someone? Yelling something specific?
New Girl: No, yelling like Bam Bam.
Me: Nice.
New Girl: So I went home and told my mom, “Mom, there’s a girl at school, and she was doing this…”
Me: And?
New Girl: And my mom said, “Honey, be nice to her. She’s probably retarded.”
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I have shared a great deal with you, my five readers, including this good stuff here. In case you need more, I will leave you with some of my quirks dislikes.
I dislike settling down onto a warm toilet seat. You know, right after someone else has gone.
I dislike getting into an already-wet shower. I want to be the first.
I don’t like for the edge of the sheet and blanket to be touching me when I sleep. The sheet and blanket have to be folded down, just a few inches, so that my chin and neck are not being bumped by the edges.
I do not share drinks.
Or forks or spoons.
Lipstick on a glass, or even worse, or a sandwich, grosses me out.
I hate perfume. I’d rather smell medicinal clean.
I don’t like burned coffee, so I have to go get mine before that happens.
xoxo
I have to admit I laughed my behind off when I read the new girl part. But mainly because I officially embrace you as one of my own : ) I also have many of the same quirks…um, I mean dislikes.
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Spaz was practically my nickname in high school. I harbor good feelings toward the word spaz.
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We would have been best friends in elementary, given that we share many of the same quirkiness.
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I got the heeby jeebies just thinking about a warm toilet seat. You’re my kind of quirk.
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i’m with you on the lipstick and burnt coffee! i hate oatmeal. it looks and smells like puke. and triggers my gag reflex, especially at work. do not come near me with your bowl of oatmeal. and please don’t use the public kitchen to prepare it. gah.
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I loved the story; so funny! Thanks for sharing!! Warm toilet seat…gross!
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This post makes me want to do something like this.
We are so uniquely us.
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I can say ditto to all that (except the coffee thing, because I don’t drink it). But otherwise – TOTALLY!
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