It isn't in my nature to be outgoing, the life of the party, or the sexy siren surrounded by hopeful suitors. Being a loner wallflower suits me just fine. I enjoy observing the hustle and bustle of the public around me....absorbing the sounds, sights, and smells of our new earth ( unless I'm on the verge of a panic attack, then, not so much).
Despite the cacophony of thoughts in my mind, getting the words to flow past my teeth and into your ears has always proven difficult for me. When they do, I tend to mumble and let my voice taper off at the last syllable. I hear, "huh?" often.
I enjoy the solitude of my tiny, seventies-style apartment. I can hole up for days without answering the door, the phone, or even peeking through the blinds to see if it's raining or sunny. I'm quite content being my own company - cooking, reading, writing, lounging lazily in the buff, smoking cigarettes in the bathroom beneath the exhaust fan, and watching the clock until it's time to have a glass (or 3) of Wal-mart's finest pinot noir (anytime after noon is good). I regularly check my facebook page to see if he's messaged me yet, google search random queries, and read the dictionary for fun.
This solo time is my fuel.Without it, I don't function well.I feed off of peaceful, quiet, easy existence; when I'm allowed to just be - the me that I can only be when nobody's looking. It is a time of reprieve from the morning ritual of makeup application, a time when no hairspray or bobby pins are needed to contain my bleached blonde 'fro. I dance around in bare feet to the music I love, when no one is there to complain about the volume or ask to play something different.I'm the star of my own show, with an audience of none. Sweet, sweet solitude....how I love thee.
Sometimes, however, you may come across a version of me not apparent in the aforementioned ramblings.This version may be found on an actual stage - belting out a Joan Jett tune, firmly grasping a microphone in one hand and a vodka cranberry in the other. She'll likely be teetering, ever so slightly, atop flaming red stilettos.She oozes confidence like honey - feeling like a supermodel in her chesty, 5' frame. Her enthusiastic appetite for living is contagious and can convince the shiest person in the room to take her hand and hit the dance floor.You may catch a glimpse of her hopping a fence at 2 a.m. to skinny dip at Howard Johnson's. She may insist on traipsing barefoot and inebriated through the woods behind your house to check out an old tree house. She'll flirt with any man, woman, or hermaphrodite who crosses her path, and they'll like it.She has the wanderlust, and may at any moment pack up the necessities in her unreliable sedan, give her furniture away to neighbors, and move to the ocean. You can expect the unexpected with her around.
Am I Bipolar? Maybe, depends on who you ask. Will I take pharmaceuticals to appear more "normal" to you? Never.
I love both of me.
And these are my stories.
Be who you are. Dare to be different.