You think I’m weird. You don’t understand me. It’s because you have certain beliefs about how people should behave. If they don’t conform to your ideas about what is proper, you label it “weird”.
Women of a certain age should not have long hair. They should not have underwear with little martini glasses on them and they shouldn’t have blue toenails. You can’t understand why some people only like silver jewelry and wear a bracelet of beaded tourquoise on a purple cord.
Women of a certain age should shop in the stores that have cute little outfits of matching tops and bottoms and the outfits should be of the finest polyester. They should shy away from any shirt that shows a hint of cleavage and on chilly days should have a nice sweatshirt jacket embroidered with a lighthouse or flowers.
Women of a certain age should enjoy books by certain popular authors who write the same plot with different characters every time. It’s just weird to read 13th Century Historical Fiction and non-fiction by that man who wants to be President. NPR is also weird radio.
I shouldn’t spend so much time on the computer, because I could be doing jigsaw puzzles. It’s just weird that I would throw the pieces at the wall in frustrated boredom.
I’m not weird.
I’m just not you