What is Normal, Anyway?

Today, my coworker said to me, “but you seemed so normal when you first started working here.”

This is not the first time I have heard this phrase. Nor, I’m afraid, will it be the last. This is not to say that I consider myself ‘not normal’ but, it seems, by the standards of others, I am a little…odd. I don’t consider myself odd. It’s hard to do that when the things you do every day seem normal to you.

I mean, look at the film, “Elf.” Buddy the Elf thinks it’s perfectly normal to put sugar on spaghetti, talk to raccoons and wear an elf costume. In his world, this is all normal behavior. It’s only when he goes out into the wider world that he realizes this is not what everyone else does and so he’s considered to be…odd.

Not that I’m comparing myself to Buddy the Elf. It’s just to illustrate the point that what might seem odd to others can seem perfectly normal to you. Normal is a very relative concept. In my case, what seems normal to me is watching the Top Chef: All Stars finale with a strong sense of anticipation. My very favourite cheftestant, Richard Blais, was in the final two. I have liked Richard since he was on Top Chef in Season 5. I think he’s an amazing chef who has an amazing sense of creativity. I’d never cook the way he does but I think some of his ideas are absolutely brilliant.

Anyway, (sorry if you haven’t seen it yet), long story short, Richard won. Naturally, I was very excited. I was so excited that I shouted “YAY! RICHARD WON” very loud at the TV. This proceeded to wake Sookie and Rory quite abruptly. After they got over their initial befuddled alarm as to why their mummy was shouting, they started to respond to my “YAY”’s with their own brand of excitement. It turned into a small, celebratory dance party with no music. This is quite normal for us. The pups and I often have dance parties. Sookie isn’t much of a dancer unless I pick her up and twirl her around the room. Rory, on the other hand, likes to jump up and down with me and keep up with my very uncoordinated but very enthusiastic dance moves. Sookie generally watches the two of us with a slight air of disdain. Although it might be confusion. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

Apparently, doggie dance parties aren’t that normal. I found this out today when my coworker asked if my “Top Chef” favourite won. I told her how excited I was for him and then told her about the dance party. This is how she came to say that somewhat familiar phrase of “but you seemed so normal when you started working here.” Keep in mind that this comes on top of my rather idiotically telling her a few days ago that one of the dogs and my favourite new games is “Throw the Rock into the Sewer Drain to Hear it Splash.” Apparently this is not normal either. How would I know? It’s what Rory, Sookie and I do on our lunch break now. It’s normal to us.

I probably don’t help my own case. I’m the twit who wonders aloud if you can eat Canadian geese and if they’d taste more like duck or goose when we pass by a flock on the way to an office lunch. It’s been ongoing since I started. It usually happens at all of my jobs. I start out being the proper British girl (or woman, I suppose I am now). Then, slowly, as my coworkers get to know me and I start to relax around them, I forget to act like a proper British woman and…I act like me.

It’s not that I’m not proper. Sometimes, I’m a little too proper. I can’t get used to my coworker putting chewing gum on the back of his hand when we go out to lunch nor can I get used to discussing bodily functions with my coworkers. However, I have also been known to be caught singing rather loudly in my office without realizing I’m actually doing it. This is not good especially when I’ve been singing the same line from one song over and over because it’s stuck in my head. I also like to bop my bobblehead of Ben Linus from Lost on the head so it bobbles and then cascade into a peal of giggles because he looks so funny.

You get the idea. As I said, normal is relative. I don’t think of my behavior as particularly odd until I get either an “ohhhkaaaay” from my coworkers or, worse, “The Look,” which, all at once, lets me know that I’ve made the mistake of letting people know too much of what goes on in my head and I should probably have kept my mouth closed.

Still, I suppose with this job, I should be pleased. It’s taken me six months before my coworker considers me weird. I think that may actually be a bit of a record. I’d like to think this is because I have an office and it’s a lot easier to ‘hide’ in an office. When you sit in a cubicle, it’s much harder to have chair boogies, sing-a-longs with myself and bobblehead moments without someone seeing you and giving you The Look or, worse, saying “What are you doing?” and being forced to realize that a) not only have you been spotted in a quite private moment but b) the tone of voice is conveying that it’s a weird thing to be doing and they’re a little concerned.

The nice thing about this job is that everyone’s a little weird so I don’t get judged. In my last job, office politics were horrible. It was the type of environment where if someone screwed up or did something ‘different,’ it would inspire gathered whisperings in offices, odd looks thrown and conversations with coworkers where they used that overly friendly tone associated with TV characters who are trying to calm down a person holding a gun.

Certainly, this sounds dramatic but, well, that’s how it was or, at least, how it felt. I might have imagined the tone of voice and maybe the looks but the whispered gatherings were real. The funny part is that there were some very loud whisperers and it was pretty obvious when they were gossiping and even what they were saying. That’s why it’s nice to work in my current office. If coworkers think I’m doing something weird or I say something weird, it’s greeted with a, “you’re very strange,” or “WHY on EARTH would you think about eating a Canadian goose?” I like that. It’s very refreshing to have upfront honesty like that even if it does make me question whether or not I’m normal.

Besides, as I said earlier, what is normal, anyway? Exactly. There’s no such thing. It’s all relative. I like my ‘abnormal’ world. It seems perfectly normal to me and that’s what counts, right?

Happy Friday!

Longing for Some Days of Yore

There are times in life when sometimes, I wish things were a little less modern and we could go back to the way things were in earlier times.

I'm a big fan of many things in the modern world, don't get me wrong. Medicine and technology has moved us leaps and bounds ahead of where we were even a few decades ago. Modern inventions like TV and radio have given us forms of entertainment so that we never feel completely alone. In theory, transportation has made everyone reachable although flying has become far less convenient thanks to terrorism and the price of fuel.

In short, our modern world isn't bad at all. It's actually quite clever and convenient most of the times.

It's just that it moves so fast.

I watched "Meet Me in St. Louis" on Sunday for the first time. For those that haven't seen it, it's a Judy Garland musical about a family in St. Louis who may have to leave their beloved city and move to New York leaving behind boyfriends and the 1903 World's Fair.

It's a movie that's a bit silly at times as any musical is when people spontaneously break into songs that feature made up words to simply rhyme with things.

Yet it's also a sweet movie that makes you wish for simpler times in a way. There's something rather nice about watching everyone get excited about a Christmas ball. Back then, balls were a common form of entertainment. These days, if there's a ball, it's a contrived experience, manufactured to create a them instead of being a perfectly natural way to socialize.

There's something rather lovely about watching people waltz about in pretty dresses and tuxedos where finding a partner to dance with was the biggest worry.

Nowadays, we have parties and clubs. They're far less organized and structured. Parties, in my experience, usually involve a lot of standing around making awkward conversation while scoping out the h'ors d'oevres and trying to resist having another drink because you a) have to drive hom and b) don't really want another drink but it's hard to stand around at a party without a drink.

I've never been a fan of clubs. I've never been able to dress for clubbing because I'm more of a 'classical' dresser than a trendy one. Also, my form of dancing in public involves me stiffly shuffling from foot-to-foot and trying to look like I have rhythm. In private, I can be quite a wild dancer, flailing and swaying with the best of them. I look silly, I know but it's fun to 'dance it out' and let it all go. It's just that the minute I'm in public, Awkward Dancing Mode kicks in and I'm no longer able to just dance it out and, instead, become the human robot.

So, I'm all for balls. Balls involve organized dances. You don't have to shake your booty, you just need to learn the steps. Shows like Dancing with the Stars have made the dance types popular again although to me, many of them look a little too flamboyant and booty shaking to be true ballroom dances but still, I appreciate that it's not a dead form of expression.

I also liked the party scene in "Meet Me in St. Louis" where all the young folk do a rendition of "Skip to My Lou" and other popular songs and have a little organized dance. That was much easier than going to a party, standing around and contemplating if you really want one of those Pillsbury Savouring things or not because like many appetizers, they'll end up being better in theory than practice.


I used to like birthday parties when I was a kid and there were games. In England we played "Pass the Parce" which was my favourite. Basically, you take a small prize and wrap it in a bunch of layers of paper, newspaper, wrapping paper, whatever you have on hand. Everyone sits on the floor in a circle and an adult plays music on a cd player and the parcel gets passed around. Then, the music is periodically stopped and whoever is holding the parcel gets to peel off a layer of paper. If you were lucky enough to unwrap the last layer, you got to keep the prize. The best version were when there were little pieces of chocolate between each layer because that way, everyone got to have a prize of some time. There was also musical chairs, of course as well as pin the tail on the donkey.

My point being is those are my kinds of parties. I guess the grown-up equivalent is a board-game party but those tend to be more gatherings of friends who just sit around and talk and play games rather than an actual social party.

I think it would be fun to have a party where you got to dance in the way they do in movies like "Pride and Prejudice" or "Meet Me in St. Louis." They made it easier for the more socially awkward, like me. I'm ok if I know most people at a party but if I go and I know maybe one or two people, I find them tiring and slightly stressful. I've never been one to walk into a room and say, "hey, everyone, fabulous me is here! The party can begin!"

It's not just about the parties and balls, of course. It's about nifty things like having ice delivered to your house or saying hello to the milkman. It's far less socially engaging to run to Kroger and buy a bag of ice and a quart of milk than it was to know your friendly neighbourhood milkman/ice delivery person.

I'm sure that there were problems in those days. The muddy roads with horse drawn carts were probably not fun in the winter. Not having central heating was probably cold. Not being able to order supplies for a party online was probably far more time consuming than it is today.


But then again, don't you sometimes think it would be nice to live in a world where you can go out to dinner with someone and have them not check their cell phone while you're out?

I'm guilty of it too so I'm not being accusatory. It's just so easy to do and you get so much into the habit of it that manners tend to be a little secondary when you see that red light on your Blackberry blinking.

It's just that sometimes, the old fashioned way of doing things seems friendlier some how. It's nice to see people gathering at a ball or party, actually talking and working together at a dance to make it flow. Everyone had to know the dance but that was a party of society- you learned the dances at a young age.

It was a much slower world back then and as much as I appreciate the convenience and speed of our modern world, sometimes it would be nice to step back and slow down.

Just as long as it doesn't involve spontaneously breaking into song. That's one part of the old musicals I could probably live without.

Happy Tuesday!

Almost Halloween

I can't believe it's almost Halloween. I mean, I know I've been waxing poetical about Autumn for some time now but it still seems that it's not time for Halloween yet. After that, it means Thanksgiving is just a few weeks away and then...Christmas.

I love Christmas. I'm just not ready for it yet. I know the stores would like it if I was because they're already trying to entice me to look at the white, red, green and gold aisles of decorations and trimmings. I know Christmas seems to arrive in stores earlier each year but I don't really recall Halloween being bumped for Christmas decorations. And yet if you go into any shop that has season decor and items, it seems like the Halloween aisles have shrunk dramatically and Christmas has crept into the empty space.

I think it would be nice to have Halloween first. If they must, stores could put out the Christmas stuff afterwards. I mean, sure there are a few Thanksgiving decorations but after you get past turkeys, pilgrims and pumpkin-y stuff, there's not much to it.

Ah well. I refuse to surrender to the commercial call of Christmas until after Halloween. I'm a big fan of Halloween anyway. I love the dark allure of the holiday. I like carving my jack-o-lanterns. I like that the weather gets crisp and when it's windy, you can almost picture the creatures that Halloween surrenders creeping about in the shadows.

This year, Halloween is on a Sunday. I was sort of hoping my neighbourhood would have its trick or treating hours on Saturday instead as some other neighbourhoods are doing. As mean as it sounds, that means I wouldn't be home since I've been invited to a "reduce, reuse, recycle" Halloween party. I plan on reusing/recycling all of my old Halloween costumes so I will be a renaissance maid with dark angel wings, a pirate hat and '80's accessories. As far as the 'reduce' part of the party, given my love of food and eating, I think my clothes will be reduced in size when I put them on.

Still, I don't mind giving out candy to trick or treaters. It's just that last year, I spent $11 and ran out of candy in an hour. This year, I spent $22 and hope it lasts two hours. I'm not a chocolate-giver-outer. Bags of chocolate not only melt and get yucky but you also get a loss less pieces in one of those. I got one of those all-purpose Wonka candy bags- 6 lbs- with over 150 pieces. I also got a box of 100 Tootsie Roll pops but I'm giving those out gingerly because I'd rather like some of those left over. I've become a fan- particularly the blue raspberry ones. I'm actually a bit cross that if you want just the blue raspberry ones, you have to mail order them on line and it's super expensive. Why don't they sell bags of individual flavours? Does anyone really like grape?

I'm also a bit worried about the puppies on Halloween. Sookie has a yippy tendency to bark at strangers. I'm going to gate her and Rory off so they can't yip too closely at the trick or treaters but I have a feeling that they're not going to be happy. Also, I made the rather silly mistake of having fun with them and the doorbell one day. I was outside and I rang the doorbell and hid and then knocked on the window. The pups got excited. Now everytime they hear a doorbell ring- particularly on TV- they get rather excited and sit up, waiting for someone to knock on the window. Silly Captain Monkeypants!

Nevertheless, giving out candy is quite fun. I'm hoping that at least some of the kids have good costumes. Last year, there were lots of masks but no real costumes. I like a good effort. I think I'll reward the good efforts with two pieces of candy.

Unless, of course, I run out. Again.

Here's hoping 250 pieces does it!

Happy Wednesday.

To Dance Party or Not to Dance Party, That is the Question...

I woke up to a very loud thunderstorm this morning. It was one of those storms that was amazing to listen to while lying in bed: The heavy beat of the rain, the roar of the thunder and the constant flash of the lighting. It was magnificent. This is one of the things I missed while I lived in Southern California. The fury of a spring/summer storm is something to behold here in the midwest.

Now I'm in the office and trying very hard to keep up my more positive attitude. Normally, I get into the office and I have the first hour alone. It's a beautiful thing because it gives me a chance to plan for how much I think I can get done that day, see what's on my calendar, drink coffee and just wake up.

Apparently, there's such a thing as a 'summer schedule' for mother's in the office. I suppose it makes sense. Without having to run around, packing their kids onto the bus, they can come in early and leave early. Which means I apparently no longer have my hour of peace. I'm trying to be zen about it. The trouble is when you're not 100% enamoured with your job anyway, every little nuisance factor seems a little magnified.

Still, I'm trying to file it away as one of those things which really isn't a major issue, it just requires a readjustment in thinking. Yay. I have company in the mornings. Whoo-hoo.

Ok, so I said it required a readjustment in thinking. I didn't say I'd be able to render sarcasm out of my personality, did I?

So, now I'm here. It's gloomy and rainy outside. I think it's supposed to clear up later but I've stopped believing in weather reports because they're always wrong. What I want to know is how come weather reporters get to be wrong so often and they still have a job? Most of us would get fired if we gave that much wrong information out. And while we're on the subject, I've always found it amusing when they say there's a "50 percent chance of rain." I mean, seriously. Isn't there ALWAYS a 50% chance of rain? It's either going to rain or it's not. That's 50/50 odds. Of course, I'm not great with numbers but on a simplistic level, that makes perfect sense.

I did get word that I'm supposed to close on my house on Monday. I'm waiting for the scary sheet to be emailed that tells how much I'm going to have to pay at closing. This means a big fat check must be written. This means I have no money. But I'll have a house. That is a good thing....right? I'll be a homeowner. Scary. A year ago I hadn't even figured out where and when I was going to move back to the Midwest. Now I'm buying a house. Life moves quickly, I'm seeing that more every day.

Lately, my blogs have been rambling rather than focused on a specific topic. I have contemplated giving up the blog. I enjoy writing it but I don't get too many people reading it and I wonder if there's much point. Yet it is therapeutic and it is a way for me to get some writing in almost every day so I'll have to think about that a little more before I decide.

Yet, rambly or not, blogging is fun for me. Writing, generally, is fun for me provided I don't get bogged down in the reality of trying to become a published writer. I'm working on a short story at the moment. I have no idea if it's any good but it felt good to write last night. It's been a while since that happened and I'm grateful to have the feeling back.

There's a lot of things I'm grateful for in my life which is why I often feel bad for complaining so much. Hence, on this rainy gloomy morning, I'm going to attempt NOT to complain about the fact that I no longer have my alone time to get work done. Instead, I'm going to ignore the fact that there's anyone here besides me.

I still better not have a private dance party like I sometimes do in the mornings though. It's nice to spin in my chair and boogie to the frenetic tones of Green Day on my iPod. Even if I ignore my coworker, there are limits to how much I can do so. She's not the type to write me off as being wacky and funny. She'd more than likely pronounce me an attention-seeker who was odd for the sake of being odd. She does that quite often. Sadly, I'm naturally odd. I've tried to fight it but sometimes you have to give in.

Dance party it is.

Happy Thursday.