No doubt exists that all women are crazy; it’s only a question of degree.

I think I have always had a deep rooted desire to be like one of those cool eccentrics you see in film. Someone who lives life just a little outside the lines. Someone who paints wild pictures, or has hobbies like making macaroni art or fashioning clothes out of found hats. Not some pseudo eccentric like “Juno”, but someone truly odd. People like you see in John Waters movies. Someone like Annie Potts “Iona” in Pretty In Pink. Come to think of it, after seeing that movie as an impressionable youth, I hung records from my ceiling. I even sacrificed my favorite single (David Bowie’s “Blue Jean”) because the record was actually BLUE. And it looked mighty cool hanging there, if I do say so myself. I think I wanted to be a mix of Little Edie, Maude from Harold and Maude, Holly Golightly, Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Cher in… um… maybe just Cher, and of course Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka. And Amelie. I identified with Amelie because I too enjoy the sound of a spoon on a creme brulee and I have always had a thing for garden gnomes. After seeing Amelie I went directly to Super Cuts and got my hair cut like hers.

But there was always something a little dark and morose about ll of these characters. I’m not talking an average dark side here folks, I am talking some serious mental disorders. If most of these characters were real people, they would be classified as insane. (Sorry Little Edie. I love ya, but the truth is the truth) So what does that say about me? I hope not a whole hell of a lot. I have been told that I am a little crazy before, and that I am quirky – but I don’t think I fit the bill for a manic depressive prostitute whose best friend is a nameless cat. I just like the romance of it all.

Me as Little Edie

So I started looking at myself as if i were a character in a movie. A movie that was directed by the Coen Brothers, PT Anderson or Quentin Tarantino. Anyway, when looking at myself from the outside I think I might understand the crazy comments. Maybe. Its hard to look at yourself through someone else’s lenses. I have been with me my whole life, so I don’t find myself odd. At all. Until someone points out something. Something like – I had a shrine to Bruce Willis in my bedroom. I used a friends camcorder to make Gothic horror movies, and “dubbed” Kung Fu movies in my back yard. Maybe these things are not really strange and I am just a little shy about disclosing the real oddities of my personality. Who knows.

I guess in my own little way I am eccentric – or crazy – as some people like to say. But really, who isn’t? I am a little opinionated and I say what I think. I don’t care what people say about me. (Unless I respect them, which leave a small handful of people). I talk to myself and I sing when I feel like singing. I live Prague because I feel comfortable here. I eat popcorn for dinner and I talk to my stuffed dog. I dance in the rain and I sing in the shower.

As Popeye said… Iyam what Iyam.

And so are you.


One thought on “No doubt exists that all women are crazy; it’s only a question of degree.

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