Stink Eye

Straying from the social norm… I suppose in the grand scheme of things, I really don’t stray or try to stray, or even wish to stray. I live in a suburban neighborhood outside of Chicago, I have (for the most part) your standard 9 to 5 job, and I have a husband. I’m what you could call pretty cookie cutter. I went to school, some college, I’m still going to college actually… get this, to be an accountant. Yeah, an accountant. Isn’t that the epitome of cookie-cutter?

Now, dive a little deeper, because no human is just one dimension, and there are the small things about me that make me feel like I’m a little different. And not in a bad way, just in a way that society sometimes gives me the stink-eye. Like I just took a dump on a public sidewalk. So what? So what that I’m fully capable of having children, and my husband and I have a stable income?…We don’t want kids. (That topic is a hot button one, for sure. Just ask my mother-in-law. No offense mommies of the world. Let me preface that I have a bunch of best friends who have children, but to a lot of people I encounter, this notion is just the craziest thing they’ve heard since William Hung’s Inspiration album release.)

Or how I’m not really, in a stereotypical manner, a tomboy, but hanging out with gaggles of women, like at showers, turns me into this weird, out of place species, who, without a good list of situational-appropriate things to say, might come out and say something totally inappropriate, and be talked about for years to come. Like, “Remember when Norma made that joke about Jews at Courtney’s Bat Mitzvah?” Come on, I cannot be the only female out there who, behind the whole, “this place is decorated so nicely, Charlene, you over did it this time, these mini quiches are to die for,” is just writhing inside and wanting nothing but to be with the men outside in the garage, drinking Miller Lite, despite the fact that I don’t like beer. …Which transitions me nicely over to this: Not liking beer. Every time, and I mean EV-ER-Y time I say, “No thanks; beer’s not my thing.” I get this comment, “How can you not like beer? That’s like, un-American.” Is it? Is it really un-American? Well then I guess I’m un-American, because my uncontrollable taste buds prefer a hard cider.

I swear constantly, and I don’t do it in professional environments, well, sometimes I do. And maybe it’s un-lady-like, but shit, fucking deal with it. I think you get the point.

Listen. This is my first ever blog. Like ever. And this is my first blog post. I’m intrigued, Internet-blog-readers of the world. Who else is like this? It would be stupid for me to think I’m the only one. I know I’m not. And this blog is for you guys, men and women alike, or in this case, not alike. Is society giving you the stink-eye? If so, you might like what I have to say. If you don’t, then simply stop reading.

Also in this blog, I’ll have to warn you. I swear occasionally. I’m kind of cynical, you might, depending on the day, think I’m an asshole. Oh, and this one’s important: I AM NOT RACIST, I joke and I use stereotypes…. For everyone! Even white people, I swear! It’s all in fun, so don’t go getting offensive and then start the super viral, ANTI-THE SOCIAL NORMA BLOG, NORMA’S THE DEVIL rant on the Internet. C’mon. Let’s just be friends. Sure I have an opinion, but it really doesn’t mean all that much. Opinions are like assholes. Everyone’s got one, and it’s usually full of shit.


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