The thing is, that sometimes? I’m pretty sure I’m a little bit crazy, or as my friend KK would say, I’m a little bit “cray cray.”
Exhibit A: I really, really think that it would be amazing if someone figured out a toilet that could be in your car. Listen, I hate driving, and I really hate when trips take longer than necessary because I have to stop and pee, which happens approximately 100 times a trip. Why oh why can’t someone come up with some sort of built in seat toilet? I was discussing this with Andrew the other night, when he reminded me of the biggest problem of all (you know, besides attaching some tank for draining, the smell, the cleanliness): PANTS. Man! Pants ruin everything.
Exhibit B: Paranoia like whoa. I was on the phone with my friend Emily the other night as she was going to her volleyball open gym night. She mentioned that there was a bit of a suspicious character ogling her as she waited to go in to the gym. I offered her my advice for what I do in the same situation: TALK ON YOUR PHONE LIKE YOU ARE TALKING TO SOMEONE. It works, yo. If the creepozoid watching you thinks that someone else is on the line and knows your location, than it’s pretty likely that he’ll leave you the heck alone! PROBLEM SOLVED. Bonus paranoia tip? If you enter your house, hotel room, etc. alone, than yell, “Hey! I’m home” regardless of whether the only other living thing in the apartment is your cat or your mint plant. THE CRAZY PERSON DOESN’T KNOW THAT.
True story: as we were having this conversation, Emily said, “Oh my goodness, can you write a blog post about this?”
“About my safety prevention tips?” I asked.
“No. About HOW YOU’RE CRAZY.”
Exhibit C: A mess of little reasons such as my penchant for odd numbers, my strange germophobia, the way I make my cat dance with me (both slow AND fast dance) and sing to him, and a billion other things.
Still, I like to think I’m just the right sort of crazy. It’s rare that I’ll turn down a night of dancing, or taking a picture of some weirdo, or doing something spur of the moment. I like to laugh, it’s rare I fear making a bit of an idiot of myself, and I like to have fun.
I mean, I like to have fun AFTER I check my backseat for a serial killer.