The other day, Scott and I were discussing a couple we know from…uh…let’s just call it a “previous life”.
Scott: I don’t know if I like them. They’re too…well…normal.
Me: Yeah…they’re definitely very normal people, but you can’t deny that they are so incredibly nice. I enjoy spending time with them.
Scott: Okay. Maybe it’s not that I don’t like them…it’s more that I feel like they don’t like me.
Me: You always think people don’t like you.
Scott: Yeah…but this is different. They’re both just so incredibly perfect. Their lives are perfect. I suppose I feel like they’re constantly looking at me and rolling their eyes. You know…laughing at all the weird stuff I do or the things I say wrong.
Me: I think it’s all in your head.
Scott: Katrina. They unfriended me on Facebook.
Me: Okay…maybe it’s not all in your head.
Scott: Whatever. I mean…I don’t really care all that much. I guess I just don’t understand people like that. They’re just so…flawless. They never say the wrong thing or make questionable decisions. They’re the picture of success and the American dream and those douchey Scott Disick pants that have the lobsters embroidered all over them!
Me: I kind of like those lobster pants.
Scott: You would. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that they’re just so impeccable and…I don’t know…boring.
Me: Exactly! I was just thinking about this the other day. I’ve begun to realize that I’m naturally drawn to people who are a little bit crazy.
Scott: I could have told you that years ago.
Me: And I don’t mean crazy in a mentally unstable way–although I don’t really have a problem with that either–I’m just talking about people who are quirky and a little bit off. You know, someone who isn’t afraid to date a nineteen-year-old gogo dancer they met online or wear a sketchy looking cheetah jumpsuit in public.
Scott: I’m the same way. Pretty much all of my friends have a little streak of crazy in them. Plus, I married you.
Me: See? It’s really not all that surprising. You and I both have a little streak of crazy…it makes total sense!
Scott: Yeah, I guess. I’m just sick of all the non-crazy people casting judgement on me.
Me: But here’s the thing: Those people act like they’re judging….but I think they’re secretly jealous. Living vicariously through other people’s random acts of craziness, if you will.
Scott: Hmmmm. Are you sure you aren’t just in denial?
Me: Think about it! How many times have one of your “normal” friends asked you to rehash one of your crazy stories to them? In my experience, those people are always fascinated with the random crap that makes my life a little bit…well…bizarre.
Scott: It’s true. They’re not experiencing those things for themselves, so they feel the need to hear about it from us!
Me: Precisely! And then they roll their eyes and pretend to be disgusted as a desperate attempt to cover the longing they have to be crazy themselves!
Scott: I don’t know if I would go that far.
Me: I would. Regardless, I’m starting to learn that life is too short not to be a little bit crazy. I don’t want to get to the end of my existence and wish I would have had the balls to compete in that ridiculous beauty pageant or publish random videos about dessert on YouTube, you know? People with the crazy gene have way less regrets.
Scott: Um…I don’t know about that.
Me: Fine. But I would rather regret a crazy decision that regret not having the courage to actually make the decision in the first place.
Scott: You know what? I’m glad we’re both a little bit crazy.
Me: Me too.
I’m not saying you have to be crazy to have a terrific life. Are you completely normal? Awesome! You’ll probably be allowed to run for political office one day!
(My dad still thinks I should get into politics. Uh…I’m pretty sure the things I’ve written on my public blog would definitely make that impossible, Dad.)
(Plus…someone who would make naming the chihuahua as Minnesota’s new mascot their first official duty probably doesn’t belong in public office.)
What I am saying is that it’s important to own who you are. Are you one of those orderly, normal peeps who never does anything questionable? Embrace it! Secretly, us crazy folk wish we could be more like you, sometimes.
And if like me, you have a streak of crazy coursing through your veins, don’t be ashamed! Life’s too short to ignore our urges to wear the ridiculous jumpsuit or compete in the beauty pageant for grown women! Crazy is interesting, fun and memorable. I challenge you to own your inner-crazy and celebrate your quirks!*
*Unless owning your inner-crazy involves running for public office. It’s not that I don’t think you’d be fabulous…it’s more that I don’t need any extra competition in my race to become the mayor of Smalltown.
**We are so getting a chihuahua on our state flag.
***I’ll also make Scott legally required to wear douchey lobster pants at least once a month.
Psst! I want to assure you the couple we are referring to is NOT you! I know for a fact they don’t read this blog, and probably don’t even remember who Scott and I are…despite our many attempts to leave our crazy stamp on their oh-so-normal memories.