How I feel about being “normal”

I discovered a long time ago, that I was weird. I don’t stress over broken fingernails (unless there’s blood involved and there has been!) I like football, I like reading and drawing and I could do without a TV. I love science, bugs, (not on me)  I get excited over nerdy stupid things, I’d rather write out an rpg on a forum than play it on a console. I love storms, I don’t like it when food mixes on my plate, I don’t like sweet meats (dessert is a sweet treat; meat is not.)  I hate coffee.. blech, I get drunk on 2 wine coolers and after my Csection the only painkiller that didn’t knock me out or make me see stuff was Tylenol with codeine.

When I picked my son up at school I made puppet llamas with my hands and stuck them through the sunroof and made them dance when he came out. When I dropped him off (even in highschool), we’d roll up in a spiffy little Crossfire and he’d get out and everyone would look at the car (and him). Just to keep him humble I’d wait for him to get a few feet away, roll down the window and call his name wait for him to acknowledge me and yell out as loud as I could: “Mama LOOOOOVES youuuuu!” Not all the time, because then he’d just ignore it.

I don’t fit into any one box or crowd… and I like it that way. When I drop something I might mutter/yell “Puddles! or Fudge Monkeys!” I have conversations about ghosts, aliens (the extraterrestrial kind) I try to apply physics to ghosts to explain them. I talk about black holes and theoretical physics and base life decisions on things I’ve learned in movies. I believe there’s more to dreams than just random data being processed by the brain, but I also believe that sometimes they caused by a green olive and anchovy pizza before bed. You know which is which instinctively.

There’s always something interesting going on in my head.
One of my favorite things to say is: Why be normal when WEIRD is so much more fun? Apparently Van Gogh agrees with me. 🙂

~Your weird friendly neighborhood


Published by: Kawanee Hamilton

Kawanee was born in Alexandria Louisiana but her first real memories are of Russellville Arkansas. She's always loved to read, and has always had an vivid imagination. She grew up in a house where almost everyone read, they didn't need a TV although she could still be found planted on her butt in front of her grandma's TV watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. She made up her first story with her mother when her cat died; it was about where pets go when they die. She continued to create stories from bad dreams she had and her dad would help her change nightmares to stories. They would sit up in a chair until the scary went away. He told her that: "Dreams, good or bad, are just stories your mind makes up. You are the author of your dreams; if you don't like them rewrite them. " She was hooked and has continued to read and write stories drawing from dreams, sights and just pure imagination. She just recently decided she'd like to try and get published and fail than wonder what if. Her story continues but where it goes from here is up to you, the Reader... She hopes you'll join her in finding out where her journey goes from here!

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