For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt like somewhat of an anomaly. (uh-NOM-uh-lee = one that is peculiar, irregular, abnormal, or difficult to classify) Sometimes this is a good thing. Oh, wow. I’m so unique. Look at me–I stand out! Sometimes it’s not so good. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just be normal? Life would be so much simpler. For everyone involved.

I’m a conflicted sort of gal. A paradox. A bit of a weirdo. My whole life I’ve been some sort of unexplainable phenomenon–a popular nerd, so to speak. I know the cool kids were thinking, “She’s kind of loser-ish, yet she has this air about her. Should we befriend her or no? Maybe we should, just in case.” And the nerdy kids saw me as one of them (because I was/am), so I pretty much fit in there too. (and let’s not pretend there’s no such thing as popular and nerdy–there was. there is. it’s life)

It’s like I fit in everywhere. And nowhere. Wherever I go. And I go a lot of places. I moved a lot when I was little. And changed schools a bunch too. Pre-school-1st grade = Christian school. 2nd-4th grade = home school. 5th grade = public school. 6th-12th grade = a new public school. Three years at a Christian college. Student teaching in Japan. Subbing all over. 1 year teaching public school. 1 year teaching Christian school. Subbing. Mommyhood.

Then Gabe and I moved 10 times in 10 years. And in the words of my friend (and my pastor’s wife) Tammy, “10 moves in 10 years. 52 zoos in 52 weeks. I’m seeing a theme here.” Yeah, no kidding.

Anyway. In lieu of the uber-popular “25 Things You May or May Not Care to Know About Me,” I’m going to list ______ Things that Make Me an Anomaly. (don’t know the number yet–we’ll see) Here’s what I’m hoping (but it may be wishful thinking): that by the end of the day, I’ll find someone who can say, “Me too!” to each of my reasons, thereby erasing my Anomaly Label once and for all. Oh, it will be so nice to be normal!

And, well, if none of you can relate to any of these things that make me odd, well… Well. It’s okay. I’m fine with anomaly-ness. Really. Here goes nothing:

Proof that Marla Taviano is an Anomaly (an oddball):

1. I’m left-handed. Wait–there’s more. I write and eat left-handed. Except if I’m eating with my fingers–I do that right-handed. I bat, throw, bowl, and cut (with scissors) right-handed as well.

2. I wear size 10 shoes. I wore size 9 before kiddos. I have my mom’s cute toes on my left foot and my dad’s oddly-shaped toes on my right foot.

3. My ears are crooked. I can’t wear glasses and have them look straight. And I will never have 20/20 vision without glasses. I want glasses.

4. I don’t like poetry. I’ve tried.

5. I’d rather listen to silence than music.

6. I live, eat, breathe, love, write, sell books, but I own less than 100.

7. I hate high heels. And jewelry (unless it’s handmade for me by special people). And scarves without a coat. I do think these things look very attractive/sexy/fashionable on other women.

8. I love skim milk. I can’t eat chocolate, eggs, or ice cream without it. If I even smell one of those foods, I need a glass of milk.

9. In my mind, fruit is delicious. In reality, I never want to eat it.

10. Euchre is my love language.

11. All of my bras and underwear are from the thrift store.

12. I’ve been to 25 zoos in the past 6 months.

13. I don’t like movies. It takes an outrageous amount of discipline for me to sit through anything longer than a Brady Bunch episode.

14. I love doing laundry. I do at least one load a day. (I clean the bathroom once every six months. If that.)

15. There are certain places that give me the creeps. Hospitals. Airports. Shopping Malls. I’m not exactly sure why.

16. When I write, my pen rests on my ring finger. I have a big ol’ writing bump (callous).

17. I have a slight obsession with Scrabble letters. And purple pens. And discounted holiday candy.

18. I have a hard time walking by a cinnamon candle without stopping to smell it. (3 or 4 deep sniffs in a row) I have little use for any other candle scents.

19. I don’t decorate any part of my house for any season or holiday except Christmas. (and I only do that for my kiddos)

I’m going to stop right there for 2 reasons: 1.) I know some people who will be bothered by it for the rest of the day. 19 is the worst number ever for OCD/perfectionist types. 2.) I’m having trouble thinking of stuff. Maybe I’m not as weird as I thought. Or maybe I’m just tired.

So, what’s the verdict? Am I normal? Or ano(r)malous? Do we share any idiosyncrasies in common? If you know me well, feel (somewhat) free to share any oddities I left out. (Please be kind, siblings.)

Better yet, tell me something WACKO about yourself. I’ll feel better.

A super-special Happy Birthday Shout-Out to Kelly Your Cousin! (that would be Kelly My Cousin to me) Have a great week, friends!