I’ve just done a new design. Yes, another one. I'm trying to get over the whole 'have a dark background and keep everything all neat and only scroll the text bit' thing. Although that's good, I am bored with it on my diary. I needed a change.

Also thinking about a new name thing. 'Thatweirdo' now seems quite big-headed. Weird people, to me, are interesting people. Using the word 'weird' to mean 'not normal'. Normal is average. Average is what most people are. Although no two people are exactly the same, we are all human. There are people who try to be like everyone else; 'normal', there are people who just try to be a little bit different, but in all honesty, are pretty much the same as most other humans. There are people who are a little bit different, which is cool. Then there are people who really are different. Some of which are scary-weird, others which are a great inspiration to the people who fall into the 'trying to be different' category. Like me.

I guess I have always been a little bit different, but not in the good way. I mean, everyone's unique, obviously. I was unique, as a little girl, at primary school, usually because I was the last to finish anything. I was the 'slowcoach'. When I say 'the', I mean, out of a whole primary school, roughly 420 pupils, I would be the last to finish lunch. As in, everyone else finished, my small group of friends would wait for each other to finish, and then go back out to play. Leaving me. Poor little me. Because, if they didn't leave me, they would never get to go to play. Never. I would start eating at the same time as all the other infants. Then they'd finish, and the juniors came in. Then they'd finish, and the dinner ladies started clearing the tables away, and made me sit on the bench along the side so they could sweep up. Then the bell would go and we'd have to go back into our classrooms. Sometimes my teacher would come and get me to finish my lunch in the classroom.

See? Slow. Or maybe my mother just gave me too much lunch. I think possibly a bit of both, seeing as I'd be the last to finish anything else, too.

But this isn't 'weird', this is just slow. But because of the slowness, I was not the same as everybody else, i.e. different.

I was also very sensitive. A crybaby. So, being a slowcoach, AND a crybaby, I guess I was doomed.

I had a small group of friends, changing slightly through the years. For some reason, they were all the smart ones. Teacher's pets, boffins. I guess that happened because, Ruth, my best friend from Mother & Toddler group, then playschool, then primary, is from a family of geniuses, and is one of the brightest people I've ever known. I was never as good as her, I knew I never could be, so I guess I didn't bother trying. So, I was the less clever one our little group. But as I was associated with the clever people, people assumed I was a boff too. Where did I fit in? Nowhere, really.

Then secondary school. Couple of new friends, some of the same. I fitted in even less there.

Then I got ill. Which made things worse, as we didn’t know I was ill or what it was for a while. So people just thought I was miserable. Who wants to hang around with miserable people? Not many people I know. So after we worked out what it was, and I was off school for a while, for some reason, I slowly became more confident. I say slowly, because 4 years on, I’m still getting there.

Somewhere in between the time I got ill, and now, I must have made a subconscious decision that I didn’t exactly fit in, so I might as well make the most of it and be slightly different. Which basically means that I don’t try to be normal, and if people don’t like it, they can lump it. Because although I do tend to change around different people, I’m still myself. And that is still taking process; it comes with the confidence thing.

So; Weird? I don’t know. That’s for you to decide. I don’t think I’m interesting enough to be called weird. I mean, look! I just wrote a whole load of babble about not fitting in..