Wednesday, October 24, 2012

My very tentative hold on normal.

So, I totally realize that I'm out of whack with my posts.

I mean, let's be really honest and I'll just say that I'm out of whack with the Normal pace of life.

That became readily evident last weekend as I was trying to get out of town to go on an annual Girls Trip with friends from my Former Life With Normal Job.

All of those women, they're well beyond Normal, but the life itself was pretty Normal when viewed by my parents and other judgers of Normalcy. I guess the IRS would have probably considered me Normal, too, and ripe for the TAKING ADVANTAGE, but we won't go into all that.

What I'm saying is that last weekend I realized that Normal is no more in my life.

When my friends were leaving work early to get on the road for our trip, I was standing next to a six foot high windrow of compost debating the number of turns required to justify compliance with organic rule.

The number is five, in case you're curious.

When my friends were having their cars detailed in preparation for our trip, I was pulling Duchess off the dirt road into a makeshift parking lot near the packing barn at a local farm.

Obviously neither of those cars are Duchess.
When my friends were pulling on their LuLu best and getting Brazilian Blowouts, I was stretching a hat over my hair and stepping into my Hunters.

And there was just no way in hell I was going to be able to leave the farm early because there was much to discuss in relation to composting materials, birds of prey, seeding methods, organic cut flower growing, cover crop rotations and so on.

Plus, it was a class offsite and I don't think the teacher would be cool with that. And then there's the subject of the other students who I'm sure think I'm some sort of prissy corporate cast-off.

So, basically, I'm not really considered Normal in any of the circles I frequent.

Thankfully Normal is not required to sustain life.

Which I proved beyond a shadow of a doubt as I went to leave the farm and meet my friends nearby so that we could carpool on our trip.

A Normal person would have reviewed the directions and THEN plugged them into their cell phone's navigation system, then charged the cell phone to its fullest capacity, then gone to class, changed clothes and shoes inconspicuously in the farm parking lot and driven to meet friends guided the whole way by the properly functioning navigation system.

That would have been Normal. At least for me back in the day when I cavorted about as Normal.

Now though?

Uh...take a look at the friend's address in the email, text it to my phone, go to class with a half charged phone and take pictures of the farm the whole time thus depleting the battery to 5%, ditch muddy shoes and sweaty sweatshirt in the trunk and pull on flip flops and cuff muddy jeans, wipe off pits with sleeves of sweaty sweatshirt because of extreme classiness, get on the road to friend's house in town I've never visited and within 5 minutes, deplete cell phone/navigation system battery to 0% and, despite being attached to the charger, lose all phone using capabilities including that which allows one to make a call, drive around aimlessly for 45 minutes *hoping* to magically come across friend's house in unknown town, finally drive to a gas station, buy a map like in the old days and THEN drive to friend's house for the road trip.

Arrive with anxiety and rage tattooed across my face despite the words, "It's OK, I'm cool. So so sorry!" coming out of my mouth, meanwhile extremely glad that my old Normal skill of committing small pieces of information like an address to memory are still intact.

And what did my friends say?

"We were so worried about you because being late is SO NOT NORMAL for you!"

Yep. They're right. It didn't used to be.


  1. Meh. Who gives a fuck about normal? There is no "normal" anymore. There's change and change is good...sometimes bad...but usually good...but it can be bad....

    Wait, what was I getting at? Nevermind. At least you're still going out with said "normal" friends.

  2. Yeah, well, if YOU'RE not normal, I don't want to know what that makes me. Totally fucking off the charts, I suspect.

    Although being late? EEE! I shudder to imagine.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.