Everybody has something.
Maybe you were born with a metabolic disorder, or your body never made adult incisors. You have six toes. You're sensitive to light, or loud noises, or scents. You're allergic to shellfish, peanuts, milk, sunlight, or water. You have a temper. You need contacts or hearing aids or medications to get your senses up to snuff.
Maybe you were born in the wrong body for you, or the wrong religion for you, or the wrong country for you. Maybe you were born in the wrong century.
Perhaps your family is uncomfortably conservative, uncomfortably liberal, uncomfortably religious, or disconcertingly atheist. Your parents love you too much or too little. Your parents abuse you mentally, physically, or emotionally.
You could be dyslexic, or have ADHD, or find school really, really difficult for other reasons.
You are athletically, academically, or emotionally deficient. You are a certifiable genius, a professional athlete, or completely emotionally secure. You have issues with food.
You are painfully shy, perpetually insecure, or overly confident. You are socially awkward. You have hobbies that others consider strange, boring, or ludicrous.
Maybe, unlike your friends, you are attracted to boys, or to girls, or to boys and girls, or you're not attracted to anyone.
Maybe you are a loud chewer or the gas you pass is extra stinky. You bite your nails, pick your scabs, or moisturize incessantly. You have an abnormally large tongue, wide feet, or thin hair. Your skin is the color of night. Or clouds. Or noodles.
In any group of people, everyone is a little off. (If you don't know what is off about you, ask around. Some honest soul will share.) And, like everything else in the world, it's not a big deal. Our differences are what makes life interesting.
Not only did our family’s relaxing summer begin this week, but other awesome stuff is happening--and it’s only Wednesday!
A friend offered me her copy of Jessica Khoury’s debut novel, Origin, which isn’t due out until early September. Yes, please! I’ll report back.
McSweeney’s ran a funny article, Jamie and Jeff’s Birth Plan, which will sing to anyone who’s ever expected a natural birth (or who knows anyone who’s ever expected a natural birth):http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/jamie-and-jeffs-birth-plan
Folks at Harvard identified an anti-aging protein in mice that might have similar effects on humans:http://www.livescience.com/18593-anti-aging-protein-extends-life-span.html
I missed that the first time around, and with good reason. I’m not sure anti-aging appeals. I wear my grey hair proudly and yes, those were my knees popping.
The gymnastics Olympic trials begin tomorrow, which excites our house to (almost) no end. This week, 2008 has declared that she will be a gymnasticker [sic] when she grows up.
We’re finally easing back into our normal family routines, and everyone is sleeping. (This is rare in my house. Cross your fingers that the trend continues.)
Inspiration struck again, and I am off and writing. I couldn’t be happier.
I blog rarely, because I'm busy writing books. When I do blog, I focus on writing, friendship, family, and books. Because my family's best nicknames are private, I use their birth years for shorthand: