The Weirdness Trampoline

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Here’s a piece I wrote two years ago, when I was bouncing from mood to mood:

I don’t know what to call it.  I don’t feel grumpy.  I don’t feel anxious.  I don’t feel depressed.  Today, I just feel weird.

Weird, in many instances, is good.  Great art comes from weirdness.  Great music comes from weirdness.  Great poetry comes from weirdness.  Great theater and dance come from weirdness.  Great reforms, too, often come from people who are not afraid of seeming weird to those on the other side of the issue.

So I am going to designate today my day to feel weird.

Significant others don’t like weird.  They like normal. They like dinner when it’s your turn to cook and discussions that move forward in logical steps.  Kids only like weird if it involves Mom being so weird she’s willing to run up her credit card on a shopping jaunt.  Friends are leery of weird too, even though they have a fab time discussing your weird among themselves.

But today I am weird.  Sorry, everybody.  My hormones are bouncing on the weirdness trampoline and shouting out, “Weird, weird, weird.”  I’m just going to join the party and bounce along with them.

Back to now, when my moods aren’t so bouncy.  The clever and curious painting was done by my daughter Laura when she was in high school.  This weird man needs a weird name.  Any suggestions?

18 responses »

  1. Very astute observations about the effect of weirdness on those around you–chuckled out loud at the ones related to children and friends!

  2. I often feel weird too, but I’m afraid I can’t blame hormones since mine are strictly regulated by a little pill. I’m still looking for my reason(s) for weirdness lol

  3. have never been quite able to find a word for this mood but weird is perfect. such a normal word for such a weird state of being!!

  4. Weird is good and fun. Life would be boring without weird! As for the weird man Rudolph, as in Valentino, for some reason popped into my head. Maybe I am having a weird day, too!

  5. His expression reminds me of Inspector Clouseau. After he got in a fight with the Pink Panther– lost his hat and magnifying glass,got his nose smushed in, got a black eye,with swollen cheeks,and his hair got pulled out. Come to think of it, he didn’t fare so well. Must have crossed paths with a menopausal woman.

  6. I saw this post a while ago, but it wasn’t until I came upon it again in an effort to catch up on ones I have missed. When I saw it the first time I was thinking it was a clever story; but after reading other posts and comments, I realize you were feeling weird. Hope you don’t have to go through too many times feeling weird.

    I like the painting…especially with the one eye shut, my first thought was he needs a beer. Just call him Natti Weird. Larbs, you’ve got Grams talent.

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