Either she's eyeing me up for an attack or she's just killed something and left it on the bed for me.

Just to play it safe, I'm going to try to sit very still ... and hope she doesn't aim for my head.

This going to be a somewhat choatic entry. I'm in a disjointed kind of mood today.

It's raining here. Kinda gloomy - but I don't really mind. Rain has its place, I guess. Makes us appreciate the sunshine.

I went to the mall this afternoon to peoplewatch. While sippin' on my coconut frappaccino, I stared at all the families passing by.

Which, come to think of it, was probably a little freaky for the families.

I realized that I'm alone alot. I don't mean that in a self pitying, depressing sort of way - but I am always by myself.

The odd thing is that I am only comfortable alone. I have this pace to my life that only I can relate with .. the way I walk, the way I observe, the way I look at the world ... is something that I've never found in anyone else.

Even Jake.

Don't get me wrong, I love Jake with every fiber of my being. And, of all the people in this great green and blue ball we call Earth, he's the one person I feel most at ease with ... but, still, I relish being by myself.

And it's not for a lack of friends. I have many friends. Of course, they are "couple friends" which seemed to happen once I was married. It's like I joined a club when I took my vows ... and all the single people aren't allowed in.

I guess it's easier having only couples as friends. It prevents odd numbers. Noone likes to be an odd number.

Anyway, I'm at the mall and meandering through all the stores. Trying out a back massager at BrookStone, partaking in Warm Vanilla Sugar sampler lotion at Bath and Body Works, and daydreaming about all the things I will buy when I actually have a disposable income in the Pottery Barn.

But most of all, I'm listening to the conversations. How she thinks those pillows will go perfectly with the new sofa. And how he hates it when his girlfriend takes forever in the dressing room.

I hear the random giggling of a gaggle of adolescent girls as a cute boy walks by. And the proud sigh of a mother when she sees her daughter in her wedding gown for the very first time.

I don't care what's in the mall. I never go there to buy clothes or pick out a new vaccuum cleaner.

Jake doesn't understand how I can spend hours at the mall without having any money to spend.

I realized why today. Why it doesn't matter that I can't buy anything ... because that's not what I'm there to do.

I'm there to connect with people. In a weird anonymous way, for a fraction of a second, I intersect with their lives. I get a taste of what it's like to be in their world. To be normal. A window into their fights, and loves, and life defining moments.

I see her when she gets her first prom dress. Or he buys that engagement ring he's been saving up for all this time.

It's strange, I know. But I've spent my life watching other people's lives that I don't know any other way now.

I am very content with how things have turned out for me. I have a strong marriage and a husband who really does adore me. As I do him. I am chocked full of potential and have a bright future ahead of me. I'm kind to children and old people. I always flush. And I don't have any sort of paralyzing injuries ... so I think I'm doing pretty well for myself.

But I wish the world got me more. Because it feels like it doesn't. Whenever I speak, people are confused by what I'm saying. I can't make myself clear and, even when I do, it doesn't matter because what interests me apparently doesn't interest anyone else.

So I've grown comfortable with myself. Being alone. It's really all I've ever known.

I guess we all feel enclosed by ourselves from time to time. When everybody feels so distant and noone can relate. Maybe it's just part of the human condition. Like rainy days, loneliness makes up appreciate the times when we feel like we belong.

I haven't had a best friend since I was fifteen years old. That's the time when the layers of my world were peeled back and I saw that things were much more meaningful than I had originally thought.

And this created an insurmontable gap between me and the rest of creation that I have yet to find a way to cross. While other girls thought about boys and kissing, my mind raced with ideas of life and death and purpose.

Geez, can I sound anymore pretentious?

Don't think I walk around quoting Freud or Kurt Vonnegut to impress the ladies ... because I don't. I can barely remember my name without having it written on my underwear. The primary reason I think about these things is not for intellectual pursuit but ... out of fear. Fear that somehow I'm missing something. That I need to understand what all of this is about. To look behind the curtain and see who's really running the show.

I want to know the purpose of life.

And this constant drive almost consumes me.

I try my best to fit in. I really do. But I can't spend my life talking about refrigerators and carpools and dinner reservations.

However, I am an ordinary person. Prick me and I bleed. I have all the same worries and bills to pay that you do. I get angry when I'm stuck in traffic or my contacts won't go in when I'm in a hurry. I pick up cat vomit just like everyone else.

Provided you have a cat. Picking up random cat vomit, although very courteous, is kinda peculiar.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. Or, wait, maybe I do.

I don't think normal. I don't feel normal. I don't live normal. I don't act normal.

All my life I have been fundamentally abnormal.

One of the things Jake always says to me when we're fighting is "Why can't you be like everybody else?"

I don't know why. And sometimes - just sometimes - I wish I could .. be like everybody else. Be normal in whatever way one is suppose to be normal.

There's a wishing fountain at the mall where people throw in a penny for their wishes.

I threw in two pennies and made two wishes.

The first one, the one I always make and my perpetual bedtime prayer, was that my family and friends are happy and well.

But the second wish was for me. I wished that, one day, I didn't feel so alone anymore.

That one day I could feel normal.

Here's hoping that wishes really do come true.

last - next