Maybe you get the impression, reading this blog, that I'm not exactly like most people you might run into on a daily basis. Maybe I'm a little more neurotic, more observant, more narcissistic, more loquacious, more cynical. Maybe I have a unique perspective or even put new words and a new voice to things you've thought yourself. Or MAYBE if you don't have a good vocabulary or any sense of imagination, you'd describe me as "weird."
I was called weird in grade school, middle school, and high school. Then somewhere along the line, most people grew out of whispering behind my back about my "weirdness," and I guess I took that for granted because apparently I have to deal with it again now.
My boyfriend and I were having coffee on campus when we ran into a younger student from our program that he knows. He introduced us and we both said hello to each other before parting ways. The next day he heard from this student that she heard from other people in her year that I am "weird." Considering that I haven't even had a conversation with these jerks, I'm sort of pissed off about it.
1. Who meets someone's girlfriend and immediately turns around and calls her weird? I tend to associate that caliber of social ineptitude with autistic spectrum disorders and children under ten.
2. The individuals who are apparently referring to me as weird have, as far as I know, interacted with me one time. They crashed a party I hosted in my apartment, stood in the middle of the living room ignoring the other guests and drinking my liquor, and stared at me like deaf mutes when I smiled and greeted them. I guess I'm the strange one in that situation, but it's strange relative to the norm of inexplicable rudeness.
Thus, what I understand about the label "weird" is that I am a distinguishable personality from the indistinct mass of mounded flesh and Walmart clothing that makes up this group of students. I shouldn't feel offended, right? I should feel complimented that I'm not a boring, bland, uninteresting plebeian Ph.D student. But I'm still pissed off. If you're reading this, you lackluster potato-faced redshirts, why don't you kiss my ass? It's not my fault you put so much effort into being average that you didn't have time to develop a personality.
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2 comments:
The difference between people's perspectives on these things is often amazing. For example, I usually think my roommates are fucking crazy but I'm pretty sure they consider me to be equally freakish because of my alternating antisocial behavior and patently fake politeness toward them. At least we know whose perspective is the correct one in these situations!
True true. I sometimes wonder, if these people think I'm weird... what would they think about the (even weirder) people I admire?
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