I am not a normal person. I am aware of this fact. I have been well aware of this fact since I was four and single-handedly got all siblings banned from fields trips at my brothers school while my family lived in Seoul.
In my four-year old defense, yah don’t put the four-year old version of myself (or any version of myself really) in front of a never-ending table of gingerbread house ingredients and expect those ingredients not to end up in my mouth.
There are a few facts in life that will always rein true, one of them being that if there is food in front of me, it is going to end up in my mouth relatively soon.
Any who, back to me being weird.
I’m weird, and while at first (the first 17 years of my life that is) I was always ashamed of this fact. I always wanted to be normal and this constant need to fit within the social norms of society caused me to appear as a shy, quiet girl, content with graciously listening to the retardness of others. When in actuality, I was just keeping my mouth fucking shut because I wasn’t ready to handle the repercussions of my weirdness/bluntness/jackassiness within a room full of my peers.
My life is not normal either, this probably has some correlation to the fact that I am not a normal human being. Basically my whole life is a joke. I literally wake up every morning and wonder, “What weird shit is going to happen to me today?”
And something always does.
Perfect example, this Friday, I was on a play date (because I’m a fucking nanny) with a 40 year-old lady from Trinidad and we spent hours talking about how we had to put pass codes on our iPhones because we had nudey pics in them and the children we nanny kept snooping in our phones a little too much.
Then about an hour later, the 5 year old I nanny looks at me and goes, “Natalie, did you a password on your phone because you have a picture of a man’s thingy in your phone?” Which he then proceeded to point to his man-thingy area, just in case I couldn’t decipher what exactly he meant from his 5 year-old vernaculars. My only rebuttal was a few good moments of awkward silence combined with an inspiring, “….nu-uh.”
Obviously, I have a way with words. A wordsmith, some might say.
Oh, and this whole conversation occurred in a Whole Foods.
For the record that “nu-uh” technically wasn’t a lie. Suck on that bitches. Now if it had been my old phone…that would have been a completely different situation…so many dick pics…
None of that situation is normal. Yet my life has become so ridiculously laughable that that was actually kind of a tame Friday afternoon for me.
And here I am now, slightly hung over on a Monday morning, half naked, per usual, trying to end this post on how weird I am, but I’m too distracted by my own fucking tits.
And that America is why you love me/want to be me/hope I show a nip slip soon. Or why you hate me.
Whatever, I’m going with the nip slip explanation.