Aren’t you glad God made us all unique?! I was just thinking about how different guys are from gals, and while those differences might make it a little harder for us to understand each other, I am so glad that there ARE differences! Can you imagine how bored stiff we’d all be if we were all the same?

We’d all have the same clothes, same shoes, same socks, same hairdo. Our tastes in music, movies, and other sources of entertainment would all be the same. We’d all want to climb the same tree, drive the same car, go to the same college. We’d all be B.O.R.E.D. STIFF! (See, even in being bored stiff, we’d all be the same.)

Instead, God made us all different.

People have blond hair, brown hair, black hair, red hair, gray hair, white hair. Some people like their original hair colors, and others dye theirs.

Those who dye theirs have interesting tastes, too. Some people have bright red or purple or raspberry chestnut or green. Although I don’t know why anyone would want to dye their hair green. But I’ve seen it! (So someone must want to.) Some dye the top layer of their hair blond and the bottom layer dark brown or black. Still others have red, brown, or blond highlights. (Or purple.)

Anyways, that just goes to show you how different we all are. And that’s just the COLOR of our hair. What about the length, style, thickness (or thinness), texture, cut, or curliness (…or lack thereof)?

And what about our tastes in the colors of clothes? We won’t even go there. Well, actually we might. Because I just wanted to say that at the thrift store here in Aurora I have seen green, tan, brown, purple, pink, black, and blue-and-white striped jeans. Yes, JEANS! If there are those of you out there who like those colors of jeans…I’m not making fun of you. Again, this all just goes to say that we are SO DIFFERENT.

We are all so unique. I’m unique, you’re unique. But we’re not the same by both being unique. We’re a different brand of unique altogether.

Now my uniqueness is quite unique, and probably not at all like yours. Which, in itself, is unique. I’m not saying my uniqueness is any better than yours…it’s just unique, and that makes it different than yours, which means that I’m unique. And you’re unique, too, it’s just that…

Oh, well, whatever. I’m sure you get the point.

Anyways, I’m glad to be able to say that now, after approximately 400 words, I am now ready to delve into the subject I actually came to discuss.

Which is…?

Which is YOU trying to wrap YOUR MIND around MY MIND.

Scary thought? Totally.

Possible? Mmmmmmaybe.

Good idea? Erm…we’ll see.

I’m strange. I’ll admit that. My friends will clarify it for you if you’re having any doubts (which by now I’m almost positive that you’re NOT), and my family will too. Quite readily, actually. But guess where I got my strangeness? Ha! From hanging around weird friends and weird family members for too long! … But anyways. That’s not what we came here to discuss. We’re here to talk about MY strangeness, not theirs.

So.

I shall hereby recommence.

In a minute, that is. When I figure out what to say.

Ah, yes, I have it now!

*ahem*

Here are two sentences copied from a warning sticker on a screen in our kitchen:
Screen will not stop child from falling out of window.
Keep child away from open window.

It really bugs me to see sentences like that ending with the same word. It sounds a little repetitive to me. When I see something like this, I try to reconstruct it so that it flows nicely and doesn’t sound repetitive. (Which is where my strangeness comes in.)

Caution: Screen will not obstruct child from tumbling out of aperture. Keep child away from open window.

Warning: If pressed, screen may give way under strain and cause child to tumble headlong out the window. Injury or death may result. 

Alert: If parent keeps child away from window, no injury or death will occur.

Attention: The screen you have wasted your money on is not designed as a baby gate for your window as you thought. Keep child away.

Danger! If your children are regularly disobedient, don’t allow them to climb on your counters to reach windows. Injury may occur from fall off the counter. Death may result from fall out the window.

😀 😀 😀

Another thing I like to do is have conversations with people in my head. (I can’t believe my head is large enough for 20+ people to fit in there…but indeed it is.) Unfortunately, this weakness of mine is well known by various members of the family, and so sometimes they will catch me at it and make fun of me. But since I am a Bergen, and since my sisters and brothers are Bergens too, we are all weird. So I can turn around and make fun of them right back.

For instance, one of my brothers likes to sing as though nobody is listening. (Unfortunately, we all have to listen to him since he’s so loud that one can’t possibly ignore him. Which is unfortunate. We SHOULD be used to it by now, because the minute he was born, he was screaming, and he hasn’t stopped since.) That gives me lots of opportunities to make fun of him. The words he makes up for his songs are…quite interesting, to say the least.

Then there’s a sister of mine who talks in her sleep. She says interesting things too. I always listen to see if she says anything about her fiancé, but she hasn’t as of yet.

Of course, there’s always my other sister who plays with dolls and talks to them. That is also quite…well, it’s not interesting, but it’s…something that I can’t put a name to.

Maybe I should start a blackmailing company.

But anyways. Back to me, since I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my siblings’ odd quirks. It’s rather terrifying to think of what a strange family I come from. But at least I have an explanation for my strangeness (or an excuse…whichever).

I declared earlier that we are here to discuss MY strangeness and not theirs…so I’d better stick to my story.

Oh dear. At the moment, I have over 1000 words, and I still haven’t come to the end of this post.

Anyways, back to the characters in my head. The other day I was talking to one of them, whose name is Ryce. (What kind of a name is that, may I ask you? But that’s what he introduced himself to me as, and I’d better not make fun of him. It might hurt his feelings. He’s annoying enough that it shouldn’t matter, but oh well. I’ll be nice for once in my lifetime.) Anyways, Ryce was asking me all kinds of questions about my faith, and I was replying as best as I could. He started asking questions that were very difficult to answer, and I was hard-pressed to find a decent, sensible reply for some of them.

Well, that night I went to Bible study, and Pastor Bob was talking about victory in death. And as he spoke, I was thinking, “Oh, these answers are perfect for Ryce! I should write them down so that I can remember to tell him.” Of course, I didn’t really need to remember since Ryce is not even a real person. And once I caught myself I nearly laughed out loud. *whoops* It’s a good thing I didn’t, because then I would have been asked why I laughed, and when I told everyone (which I wouldn’t really do), they would be even more shocked than you are right now. *cringe*

And there’s always the thing about me being forgetful. Whenever I go down to the basement to get something (like salsa from the pantry, which is on the right, ice cream from the “big freezer” which is also on the right, dish soap or rags from the cupboard to the left, or popsicles from the “fridge freezer” on the left), I always go the wrong way. If I need to go to the right, I always end up going to the left (and vice versa). Finally I actually decided to count all the times when I went the right way. And now, after having gone down to the basement at least 100 times since (if not more), I have gone the right way three times. Yes, you heard that right. Three times.

Another thing about me, which may or may not seem strange to you, depending on whether you’re an avid book reader or not, is that I really get into books. I remember once when I was sitting on my bed reading a book. At various parts in the book, I would moan, cry, shriek with laughter, jump up and down with excitement, put my hands in the air or over my mouth, or gasp with joy. Believe it or not, I actually have a quite suspicious nature, and I checked under Brittany’s bed to make sure that no one was under there watching my reaction.

And if you book lovers out there would like to know what book had me in such a dither, it was A Proper Pursuit, by Lynn Austin. Another one of her books, Wonderland Creek, also had me completely engrossed, but I didn’t dare gasp, laugh, or cry aloud since I was downstairs reading among respectable people.

Once I was so into a book that I nearly asked for prayer for the main character in Sunday School. Slightly embarrassing. (And, for you book lovers, that book was CrossFire, by Jeanette Windle. Definitely a book worth checking into.)

I like acting, too, as long as no one is watching. Once, when I got writer’s block on one of my books, I actually acted out the scene to see if I could get some inspiration that way. It worked! I felt really silly, though, especially when I walked around in the pitch blackness of my room with my pajama pants knotted around one eye, pretending to be a tutor named Percy Lefevre, who has an eye patch. Very epic. When I’m finished with that book, The Fairy Tale, you’ll have to check into it. And see if you can figure out which scene I was having trouble with. Although I will tell you one thing…Percy’s eye patch is NOT made out of pajama pants. And I’m sure his accent wasn’t as bad as mine, either.

Another thing that’s different from me and just about everyone else I’ve met is that I really want to be a missionary, and that makes the way I think a lot different than the way most other people think. (And the way I think is already strange enough!) Almost every time I sit down to a good, full meal, I wonder what people in Africa are eating, and what they would think if they saw that the amount I have for supper for just one night would feed them for a week or more. Our house has A/C in the summer and heat in the winter. What do people in Africa do when it gets blazing hot outside? And those tribal people in the jungles of Ecuador and Brazil…they walk on muddy trails and dig lice out of each others’ heads with their fingernails. And what do we do? Whenever we have to walk anywhere, we complain about the inconvenience…and we haven’t experienced anything like the walking the jungle people would have to do. And as for lice…well, most of us don’t really have problems with those, do we? I would say we’re pretty privileged, though you wouldn’t know it to hear us talk! When I sit down in front of my math or English book and feel like throwing it on the floor or ripping it to shreds, sometimes (though not nearly as much as I should) I think about how many smart kids there are in other countries who don’t have the privilege of learning…kids who would LOVE to learn math or science or whatever else it is that kids learn in school these days. I don’t think a day has gone by in recent years when I haven’t thought about those kids in other countries…and how I’d love to go and minister to them somehow. I pray I’ll get the chance someday.

Several months ago, when I was disc-golfing with some friends, I looked down at the ground where my disc had landed and saw that the stiff, bushy looking weeds reminded me a little of jungle pictures taken from an airplane. It was as though I was up in the sky, looking down at the jungle trees far, far below. That probably doesn’t even make any sense to you, but now every time I see those odd looking weeds, I think of the jungle. And I smile.

On a completely different subject, I also LOVE memorizing old documents (like the Declaration of Independence) and speeches made by men like Patrick Henry. I’ve memorized, like I said, the Declaration of Independence (and can hardly remember a word of it now…but still), Patrick Henry’s “Give Me Liberty, Or Give Me Death!” speech, and Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. I’m looking into memorizing some of Ronald Reagan’s speeches…he has some good ones out there.

Another thing…I love to describe things in my head. It’s as though I’m writing a book about my life, only it’s all in my mind…none of it is down on paper. (For which I am eternally grateful.)

For instance, while we were on vacation, I was describing a certain plant to myself: “The bush was tall, and perhaps what one would call scraggly. Its branches were a bright red, adding a splash of color to the plain brown hillside. Its green leaves were small and round, and when they waved in the wind, their white backs sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. The strange bush seemed to grow best in rocky soil. It was obviously a very rugged plant, though very beautiful in its own way. Dozens of these bushes grew along both sides of the road, bright and cheerful against the brown hills and blue skies.” 

And I do this ALL the time. About almost everything. And if I’m thinking up a story and having the characters acting it out in my head, I can’t just have the character say something without finishing it with “he said” or “she exclaimed”. I have to describe every movement the character makes. I have to say: “He frowned and reached out his hands toward her in silent entreaty” instead of just imagining that he frowns and reaches out his hands. I guess it all comes with being [or trying to be] a writer.

I also like to imagine all kinds of cool vacations in my head. “Let’s see, we’ll drive here and stay at this motel, and then we’ll go to the hot springs the next morning. Then we’ll drive to this mountain and hike it, and then we’ll go back to the motel and spend another night. Then we’ll drive to see this person, and we’ll stay at their house for a couple of days. After that, we’ll drive back home, but we’ll stop at such-and-such a place on the way…” Yeah. I even imagine all the people I’m taking on my fake vacations. And I don’t even have my license yet!!! (But hey, I’m working on it.)

And…

…there are other things about me that are pretty strange…but I’ll not share them. Sorry. [Not]

If you are strange like me — or strange NOT like me — please give me a ring and tell me so. It would make my day to know that I’m not the only weird person out there. Do you do any of the above W.E.I.R.D. things? Or am I the only one?

Well, I know I’m not the ONLY one. So if I don’t hear from any of you, I will know there are some liars out there. 😉

Oh, and I wanted to ask an odd question, just to finish this odd post up…

Is it possible to talk OUT LOUD in your head?

And here’s another question: Did that even make any sense?

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