Where am I now?

I have decided that I am going to become an eccentric. I have been fullfilling social obligations where I have tried to be nice to people and tried to fit in while realising that this is not being true to myself. As readers may be aware, I am not always nice. I do not believe that life is rosy all the time. I think everyone has problems of sorts and do not think that keeping it in is a positive thing. I also don´t believe in making things complicated..... Why can´t people just be upfront and honest about themselves and their beliefs and their thoughts. Why does everything have to be such a mystery and complicated??????????

So due to my social ineptness and my inability or undesire to play these social games, I have decided that I will become an eccentric. I know I´m a bit young and that this is usually something that belongs to the old woman, cat loving, creative widow or old maid categories, but why should they alone be allowed this priviledge? I will create a new genre of eccentrics.

I don´t like cats much so maybe I will be the funny woman who goes for walks in the forest with my alpaca. I won´t go for the grey, natural hair look, as it makes me feel so old, but I think I will go for the bright pink or maybe ginger hair. It is long anyway to begin with. Í often have paint or clay on my clothes (along with the other gobble that devine children feel their right to imprint you with) so I always seem to have that ravelled, unlooked after look that seems to be associated with eccentrics. As a mother of small children and teacher in the kindergarten, I am often ranting children´s songs or merriments under my breath which could easily be interpreted as the obseqious muttering of poetry by a non English speaker. I can easily imagine myself as the eccentric. Part Dame Edna, part Van Goch, part Julie Walters.

But what I love about the idea of being an eccentric is this ingrained sense of not caring about what other people think. Don´t mix this up with not caring about other people, as I think I will always care about people and want to be as nice as possible, but it is not caring about what people say, or how they react or their lack of response. It is creating a world where you only focus on the things you view as important yourself. Why go to a banal social event just for the sake of maintaining contact with people, when staying home and reading a book will create a warmer sense of well being. Why do what other people expect of you, when you feel uncomfortable in how it makes you feel? I think I am past the stage of being so desperate for the need of companionship and the desire of contact that I just wanted people around. I have reached the stage of my life where I need to have things which are real in my life. Like the old eccentric women. They live their lives for theirselves. Not for what ís expected (leaving out any possible mental illness concerns. This is my fantasy.)