July 13, 2010 by Marj Hatzell
Growing up I never felt like I fit in. I was a weird, a misfit. Even in my own family. Even in band (and we all know that band geeks are misfits. WHAT? THEY ARE!). Even in College. Even when I entered the workforce, and stayed home with my kids. I always feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.
Why does it matter? For some reason, we human folk like to feel we belong. It boosts our self-esteem and it’s good for our psyche. It makes us happy. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe I have low self-esteem. It’s just that sometimes I feel like everyone is staring at me, like I have a giant zit or mustard on my chin or toilet paper stuck to my shoe or all three at once.
And it’s very likely I have all three going on at once. But. Ahem. Anyways.
Belonging. I want to belong. And I finally feel like I do. Belong, that is. People? Still feel like they think I am a loony toon. And doods? I totally am (THERE I SAID IT. SATISFIED?). But me? I managed to find people who are as, erm, unique as I am. Like, nutty and weird and fun and all that jazz. Golly Ned, it feels good.
My Bloggrrl peeps, they keep me sane.(Ok, I lied. But if I could be sane, they would keep me that way. Right?) We come from all walks of life. It all started a few years ago, rather innocently, when I tried this Blogging thing at the advice of one of my Flylady peeps. We had this group of misfits, see. We came from all walks of life. Again. BIG BEN, PARLIAMENT! And out of that group of FlyFriends and Flyfests came Blog Friends. And out of those Blog Friends, I found more misfits. More people like me. And then I started knowing them in real life. And we started getting together. Did you know you could do that? Meet Internet people in real life? No, IT’S TRUE! They’re like, real people and stuff! And you don’t always end up murdered/arrested/taken advantage of and stuff (My husband always thinks this when I go meet a blog friend ’cause he thinks that 30-and-40-something-housewives on the other side of the computer are actually an ex-felon named Tiny trying to buy his way back to the Big House. But I digress).
And here’s the thing. You Know what I realized? ZOMG! I fit in! I’m not a misfit. There are people like meeeeeee! And they like meeeeeee! And I like them! And it’s all totally awesome and stuff! Because I have, like, friends and stuff! And we do social stuff! And hang and stuff! And I watch their dogs and stuff (BEST PART!)! And it’s fun! And! And!
And then you get to eat SPAGHETTI! Wednesday Spaghetti! ON TUESDAYS, EVEN! And it’s yummy and you get to talk to real, live adults! Like real ones! And sometimes kids get into paint in the basement and make a mess and stuff and then track orange paint up the stairs and go to the bathroom then when you use the bathroom later there’s pain on the shower curtain/floor/wall/towels/sink/toilet and stuff but! It’s still fun! Because then we all get to work and clean it up. And then hopefully clean up most of the house so the (totally awesome and gracious) hosts don’t have to.
And it is THE BEST SPAGHETTI I have ever tasted. Because it comes with a side order of good conversation and a whole lot of spice.
You should TOTALLY try this spaghetti thing. It’s really, really good for you. Even if you totally forgot to eat the above mentioned spaghetti because you were too busy meeting people and forming friendships and getting “recognized” at parties when you talk about your life and someone’s all, “ZOMG! You’re DG! HOLLAH!”
*It may also be helpful to mention that I attended kidless and there was an abundance of red wine. Just sayin’.