Meandering on "normal"...

I've been thinking about just what the word "normal" really means and if there is any part of this label that might possibly include me. Per Webster's International Dictionary, the definition is...typical...usual...standard..sane. Hmmm.

Typical? What, exactly, does that mean? Well, back to Webster...he says it means... characteristic of a group or type. Huh? So, if I'm a card carrying White Supremacist, I'm typical, ie. normal and sane? WTF???

Usual? Back to Websters we must go. He says... customary or common. Well, as a Southern gal, I know I'm not common because my mama told me so, and we just never were allowed to associate with common folk. Probably, Webster is from the North and doesn't understand these things.

Customary= usual or according to custom. No real progress with this one, right?

Sane...ah, here we go again. On my facebook profile, I claim to be relatively sane, and damn proud of it. Does that make me relatively normal? Checking out Mr. Webster, one more time, and he says... sane means having a sound mind. Hmmm. Again, per Mr. W... sound, as an adjective, means...healthy, free from flaw, decay, etc., correct or logical.

I'm getting a little worried here. I think I'm relatively healthy, mentally speaking, but free from flaw or decay may be a few too many steps outside my relatively speaking realm. And, let's be honest here...correct is a relative term...we each have our own ideas about what's correct and what's not, right? But, regarding the logical....even in my most sane state, logic is simply not, typically, a huge part of the equation.

Which takes me right back to where I started. Raise your hand if you never felt quite "normal".

If you're following this blog, I'm pretty sure you're raising your hand about now. But, after reading all the words that Webster used to describe "normal"...I'm feeling thankful to be somewhat outside the norm. Did you ever think if you just were a wee bit more "normal", life would be easier and just not so... untypical? Growing up, did you feel like you were on the outside looking in? And, conversely, did you ever feel like you were on the inside looking out?

If your answer is yes and yes, how do you feel about that?

Maybe we are normal... characteristic within our own group. Are we a group of normal abnormalities? Or, are we just deluding ourselves by thinking we're somehow different from the lot...somehow, we're special? You know, I'm not even looking for answers...the truth is...we all have our own questions and must find a way to figure out our own answers. So...I'm just going to leave it to you to work all this out in whatever way is best for you. As for me...I'm going to have another glass of wine and watch a movie.

Happy meanderings.

Chapel Hill

Just got home from Chapel Hill, and like the old song about San Francisco, I think I left my heart in Chapel Hill. Well, at least at Trader Joe's in Chapel Hill and possibly at the little book shop next door to Foster's Market, and, of course, a little bit remains at the Hampton Inn...not so much a funky motel, but a motel all the same.

Let me tell you about Trader Joe's in CH. First of all, you walk in and the very first thing is you are surrounded by flowers...wonderfully beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes and smells. Ahhh..I love that! The next thing that encompasses you is the music...way cool old time rock and roll! Ohhhh yeah! The first ten minutes there, all I really wanted was to find someone who, like me, just wanted to dance. I would have danced with anyone...and the sad thing is...no one asked...and even sadder...I didn't ask anyone! How fun it would have been if I had the courage to find someone who looked like they were enjoying the music as much as I and just say...hey...do ya wanta dance? Just imagine dancing through the aisles as you shopped for exotic Indian sauces and delicious Trader Joe's soups, reasonably priced spices and chocolate covered cranberries. Next you shag on over to the wine section, but first a stop by the freebie station for a taste of the heavenly date bread and a tiny little piece of apple cured bacon..or something like that....whatever it was...it was super yum...I have to admit I went back for seconds when the demo lady was away from her table.

So, why didn't I ask someone to dance...or just tell the lady I really needed another taste of her delicious freebies which, because they weren't part of my regular diet, I couldn't purchase them, but they was so good I just had to have seconds. If I had done that, she may have offered me thirds! See what we do to ourselves when we're too timid to ask for what we really want! WTF??? I'm 67...shouldn't I know this by now?

The book shop...Flyleaf Books...isn't that a great name?...was amazing. They set it up in many different sections which made it really easy to find books you like without going through a bunch that you really don't like. Best of all were the numerous shelves of second hand books. Nirvana! I found two treasures...one about stories from the South, and the other ... workouts for the brain! I'll be sure and let you know how these workouts actually work. Essentially, I loved the energy of this Indy book shop...very much like our own Pomegranate Books, just a little bigger. I'm so glad there are a few Indies still alive and reasonably well. We all need to remember to give them as much business as we can because to lose them would be like losing a piece of our very own soul.

OK...the Hampton Inn. Yeah, it's not a funky motel, but it's a sweet little motel tucked in a quiet little section of Chapel Hill and surrounded by trees..many of which have the cutest little bird houses hanging from the branches. That's kinda funky, don't you think? And...one night I went out to get some ice and right there in a tree beside our room was this huge raccoon. This is the first raccoon I've ever seen live and in person. I startled him just about as much as he startled me and he went scampering back up the tree. I told Dave about it and he says...are you sure it wasn't a possum? Men! Even though I'm not exactly Mz. Nature Girl, I do know the difference between a raccoon and a possum. Possum's don't have striped tails, for crying out loud!

In the afternoon, and sometimes at night, they have chocolate chip cookies in the lobby and I love going in and picking up a couple cookies and getting some hot water and a tea bag...green tea, of course... and coming back to the room, fluffing up the pillows and laying back to watch Oprah while I sip my tea and munch on the cookies. Heaven!

I can't quite explain, even to myself, why I have this passion for motel rooms and that's probably a good thing. Sometimes we understand things in life all too well and sometimes, too much knowledge can be a real spoiler, you know?

Chapel Hill is full of fun and funk, beauty and grace, history and cutting edge...and nice, friendly people. There's an energy to it that makes me want to stand up a littler straighter and pay a little more attention to what's going on around me. If only, it had an ocean within hearing distance. Meanwhile, I'm sure we'll be back fairly soon. It is basketball season, you know!