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I was struck by a whole lot of randomness this morning on the drive to work.  It’s about a 20 minute ride, so that’s plenty of time for my brain to have a field day.  And I’ve been driving this exact same route for so long now that I really don’t have to think so much about the driving, I just do it.  Anyway, I digress.

In class Wednesday night we talked about the fluidity of culture and had an interesting discussion about that.  Things change, rapidly these days, and most everyone else was pointing out examples of this.  I piped in with the notion that while there is always change, we still have cultural roots – things that don’t change that much.  We still wear clothing in public, we still share meals together, we still observe the sacrament of marriage – things like that.  Granted, the details surrounding many of these things have changed over time, but a lot of this is rooted in the basis of all human culture.  The prof gave me a look that said she had never even considered that side of it.

Freak – 1, Normies – 0

Then we talked about how “signs” are comprised of both an image/sound/word that is the Signifier and a meaning with is the Signified and the combination of these two makes a Sign.  She asked for examples.  The usual things were bandied about and then I piped up with my squirrels.  I told them how my work team uses the word “squirrel” to signify that we’ve gotten off topic.  Because we’re mental.  Yeah, that went over like a lead balloon.

Freak – 1, Normies – baffled

But anyway, this came back to me this morning on the drive.  And, while I’m not entirely sure why, I’m willing to take a trip down the rabbit hole and see if I can figure it out.

It starts with this…

my freaky bald husband

my freaky bald husband

Josh asked me to cut his hair last night.  His hair wasn’t terribly long – I’ve seen it longer when we were first dating and he wasn’t willing to spend much money on regular hair cuts – but it was a little shaggy compared to how he’s been wearing it these last few years.  And it’s about to get hot in this part of the country so he decided it was time.  I know one hair cut – scalped ape – so that’s what I did.  It’s not bad if I do say so myself.  I actually used to do this to Rob on a regular basis so I’m pretty fucking good at it.  Anyway, Josh has a nice shaped head for this.  To tell the truth, I think it’s a little sexy.

This morning he came upstairs and had on grey athletic shorts and a white t-shirt and that beautiful bald head.  It was all I could do to not molest him in the kitchen.  And this part I think is my dad’s fault – there is just something about a plain white t-shirt that screams masculinity to me because my dad wore a white t-shirt under his dress shirts every fucking day of his life.  Hotter than hot in a way I really can’t find words for.

So we get through our showering and getting ready process appropriately and with what felt like just the right about of flirting.  I stopped at my big mirror in our room to make sure my outfit looked alright and I was struck with a vision that did not seem to come from my eyes – I looked slender, I looked polished, I looked – OMG – just a little sexy.  You need to  understand that those are not normally words I would use when describing myself.  I think – maybe – I saw myself as Josh often sees me, for just a moment.  Wow…

Where the hell was I going with this anyway?  Oh yes, freaks.

So anyway, I had this epiphany I guess you’d call it and then I head for work and I start thinking about how I just don’t see those things about me.  I see the weird curly hair that gets all afroesque in the Midwestern humidity, I see the very odd assortment of random freckles, I see the 13 tattoos, I see the skin that in places doesn’t even look human anymore.

And then I thought to myself – why can’t we be good and decent people who also think we’re worth something?

Most of the time – in my experience anyway – when you meet someone who “knows” they’re worth something, they’re entirely full of themselves and absolutely not worth being around.  Narcissistic, no sense of humility at all, no concern for other people.  Granted – this is not true of all people who know they’re worth something.  My mom knows she’s literally worth her own weight in gold and she really ought to be up for sainthood.  In the same vein, my sister will go on non-stop about how much she’s worth and yet I go out of my way to avoid her company.

So really, is it just that we’re mental that we can’t seem to find that good balance between realizing we’re worth something to the world and still being good enough people that others want to take appropriate advantage of our worth?  I’m a little disadvantaged here because most of the people I spend time with are mental in some form or fashion.  My posse of normies is pretty well non-existent.

Are you a freak?  Do you embrace your freakness?  What about you makes you a freak?