To Bore Or Not To Bore

Surfing the web the other day and ran across a nifty article about how to avoid being boring by Jessica Hagy for Forbes. Although I have to admit it is a little disheartening to realize I am not one of those lucky few who are organically interesting, like the guy on the Dos Equis commercials. I have to resort to Plan B, reading advice columns for the Terminally Boring and dig deep for something of interest as my Plan A is pretty bland. Anyway - of the ten recommendations she made, #4 stands out for me:

 'Embrace your innate weirdness'

Simple advice (or stupid-simple, as the article claims), seems, well, innate, but it's really pretty much the opposite of what we usually do, isn't it? Everyone trying so hard to fit in, follow the latest trend, wear the right jeans, eat at the most popular restaurants, read the hippest book/blog, drive the coolest car, etc.  Talk about BORING. It got me thinking about my favorite people and their quirky habits, bless their hearts.

• A coworker years ago who refused to close the bathroom stall door all the way when she was using it. I thought this quite weird and a little offensive until she sheepishly apologized to me one day when I happened to be in the restroom at the same time, and confessed she was trapped in a bathroom stall as a child and it really freaked her out. Instantly went from weird to endearing once I knew the whole story.
• A friend who absolutely, positively would not divulge her birth year, upon pain of death. Still can't figure that one out, because she looks great regardless of her age. I can understand it if you haven't taken care of yourself, but not this gal. At first I thought she was just being coy like most of us do when asked our age. You know how it goes - we act all insulted that anyone would be so rude as to ask, then 'fess up fairly quickly, fishing for the expected compliment that we certainly don't look our age. But my friend - she would never 'fess up! We have known each other for more than ten years, and it is still a mystery. Gotta hand it to her - she sticks to her guns!
• Another friend owned a massive doll collection. She was probably in her 50s when we first met. She had no children of her own, but man she had the dolls. All kinds, very pricey, rooms full of them. All those lifeless eyes, staring, staring . . . Never having been a fan of dolls myself, I found this a little weird for a grown woman. But she and I guess other collectors out there thrive on their hobbies. They probably think there is something a little weird about those of us who don't collect anything!
• The cousin who was completely obsessed with Elvis Presley. I believe the tipping point came when it was revealed (ahem) she owned Elvis Presley underwear. Not sure if it was his actual underwear, or was adorned with a picture of The King, or what. But still.
• The complete stranger at my husband's company Christmas party who blended into the background - until someone fired up the karoake machine. Put a microphone in his hands and he turns into Frank Freakin Sinatra (without the voice). He roamed the banquet area, schmoozing tables, serenading the middle aged couples like Mel Torme (without the voice). I believe he had to be wrestled to the ground before he surrendered the microphone to the next person.
• Another relative who is uber freaky about perceived threats to personal health. Refuses to take a shower during a thunderstorm for fear of electrocution. 
• A tennis friend who often shouted a lusty Al Pacino-like 'Hoo-Ahhhh!' after a particularly satisfying shot. Very un-tennis-like, but bless her heart, I loved her more every time she did it.
• Any list like this would be incomplete without mentioning my dad, whose innate weirdness is quite minimal. He's a pretty normal, average guy, highly entertaining and non-boring in his own right - except he has a long abiding, borderline irrational fear of rodents. Rats, specifically. Now you have to know my dad to know why this is weird. He's a big guy, 6'-3", 200 pounds, gregarious life-of-the-party kinda guy. But don't even mention mice or he's the first one up on the chair, screaming like a girl. 

I guess this is the confession portion of our program, where I should divulge my own innate weirdness. According to Ms. Hagy's logic, if I have some innate weirdness and I embrace it, that will help me fend off the Boring label. I am on board with this. (You have no idea how hard it was for me not to say 'bored' there. Yuk. Yuk.) I will gladly embrace and advertise it. But I am ashamed to say I am struggling to think of anything. My greatest inner fear is likely true: not only am I Boring in general, I don't have any innate weirdness to fall back on! I am reaching, but here's what I can come up with so far:

• I don't like different foods touching on my plate, but I won't go nuts if it happens. 
• I also like to eat the various foods in order - all the potatoes, then all the meat, then the veg, etc. Is that weird, or just organized?
• I like to plan trips/errands so that all the stops are in some kind of logical order (preferably closest first, leaving an uninterrupted return leg home) rather than zigzagging all over town. Also prefer multiple stops on a single trip rather than a trip here, a trip there. 
• Prefer working tasks sequentially rather than multi-tasking. Also prefer one task to be finished before starting another although my definition of 'finished' can be somewhat hazy. 
• Will not tolerate even-numbered golf clubs in my golf bag, making an exception for my 4i hybrid which technically is a fairway wood, not an iron, so special exemption. Okay, maybe that is a little weird.
• Floss daily without fail but only in the morning, never at night.
• Organize clothes in closet by color. Doesn't everyone do that? Maybe that doesn't count.

Ugh, I give up - I am Boring! But Ms. Hagy's article has several more remedies. I'm off to try #9.

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