I’m a people person. I like people . I mean, really. All kinds of people. Tall people, short people, but I guess I have to say I like weird people best. I don’t know why. It’s always been that way. I don’t mean it in a bad way. Not at all. If I call you weird, I really do mean it as a compliment. Offbeat. Not in the mold. Probably because I was the WEIRD kid. You know how , NOW nerds are cool, and shows like The Big Bang Theory make everyone laugh , and geeks are the “IT ” deal? Well, this was the 80’s . We weren’t the hot item then, folks. You wore the glasses and carried the bag with waaaaaaaay too many books than were acceptable, people were laughing alright , but not in a kind manner. If you could spout more facts about reptiles, or the solar system at age 7 than your grade school teacher, your popularity rating was not going to be up there with Kaley Cuoco. So I have a soft spot for the odd one out ya know. My husband actually calls me a kook magnet. He says if there is a weird or kooky person within a certain radius they will gravitate towards me. But, I don’t mind. They’ve got the stories , you know? I call it blog fodder. I mean sure, normies have interesting stories too, but if you want the great stories, the really fun things to write about , you have to meet the oddballs. So give me the unusual ones any day. I promise you won’t be sorry.
There are roosters in my bathtub,
and they’re splashing all about.
They’re frothing up the bubbles,
they’re hopping in and out.
They’re leaving three-toed foot prints,
up and down the floor.
They’re firing off their water guns,
at targets on the door.
I’m not sure how they got here,
or where they’ll go back to.
But roosters in my bathtub,
this simply will not do.
Ruby Jeanette Woods