“I love words!”
Be careful who you say that around. You might be ostracized. I was. I made that declaration to a coworker while we filed DVDs behind the counter at the local video store. She literally stopped dead in her tracks and fell to the floor laughing. Word got out about those words I used about words. Soon, I was taunted by the staff with, “Words are my friends.” Or “You’re such a nerd.” And “Who’s coming to the party? I’m inviting numbers…let’s try to be civil.” Okay, maybe not that last one. It was all in good fun, but still, you can’t help but feel a little weird.
I studied film in college. My classmates wanted to become the next Spielberg or Tarantino. I focused on script writing and journalism. I wanted to become the next Pauline Kael. So, while discussing the conventions of postmodern musicals in a genre theory class, most students whimpered and sighed, “Ugh, why do I have to do this? It isn’t even important!” I was the opposite and mentally debated between some killer thesis about double diegesis and iconography.
So, there I was again. Ever on the outside. But just on the cusp. I didn’t hang out in the woods with a book of poetry or anything. (Although, if that’s what you do, that’s totally cool. Not only are words your friends, but so are foxes, owls, and the great and mighty oak). I finally came to terms with my identity. Who cares if I don’t think about things like other people? Who really does, anyway? We all perceive and think differently about the world, if only in subtle ways. God made me this way. God also gave me a genuine loathing for the internet and technology. Which often leads me to exclaim something else that sets me apart from my friends:
“I hate computers!”