Stalagmites are good teddy bears

...When you are living in a cave.  At least that is what I assume, and also I'm sincerely looking forward to snuggling with them.  Since my next place of residence will be a dark secluded cave as far away from human existence as possible, and without any direct human interaction (outside of controlled response internet) what so ever.  I'm looking forward to getting to know more about my mineral based calcified rock friends - seriously. 

Some bonuses to that relationship:
They don't look at you awkwardly when you say something off key. 
Stalagmites don't want to avoid you if you come across weird. 

There are many things that make me adore the idea of Stalagmites as a teddy bear... but mostly those above items.  Frequent delivery of pitted Kalamata olive jars in the cave would be cool, but still - the location of the cave needs to be far away, so that may not be possible.  The notion of living in a cave is WAY better than the realism of interaction I get now, which is the head-jerking-back-rolled-eyes-freakish-glare look I presently receive when just about anything comes out of my mouth.  Sigh.  It's so hard sometimes to be abnormal, and pretend to be NORMAL.  I joke about how fun it is being weird... and sometimes it really is fun!, but most times it's just sad.  Sad, like in a way that you wish your dog had a play friend and wasn't depressed all the time, sad.  On the whole, though, it's just incredibly isolating.  One bad comment from me leads to a slew of other people's judgements, and then you try to make up for that comment by digging yourself a bigger hole through explaining yourself with other comments that backfire (come on, people just don't get you already!, why keep trying?!?), then the blank listless stare from your listening party ensues... this is horribly bad.  This is the worst sign that you are the biggest loser ever.  Ugh.  The icing on the cake is when you hear the tell tale sign (and from a close friend), "You're weird!"  This, unfortunately, is what I get A LOT.  It's enough to want to make me curl up in a fetal position, with a bottle of VERY good Grey goose, a couple of lemons, and a snuggly blanket - all in a cave of course with a horror movie.  FAR AWAY from society.  Away from all the non-understanding stares regarding the verbal diarrhea that comes out of my mouth.  I can't help it sometimes the verbal gook that just vomits out under stress or anxiety fueled times.  It's compulsive.  I abhor it, but it's true. 

This is what makes me different from most.  I have no filter.  I have no ability to discern others emotions whilst in the throws of the conversation.  I can read faces, but I don't *really* get it - until its too late.  I can't say or suggest things without having an air of efficiency and logical distinction.  It SUCKS.  Why am I so weird?  Anyways... back to my Utopian condo nestled in the volcanic mountains of nowhere... I can't wait to make a dirty martini and play with the Dolphins... outside of mating season of course, because they're awfully aggressive during that time.  But seriously, I can't wait to find my own "Nim's Island".  Maybe then, on my island of "nowhere", I won't be seen as a social abomination, but a master mind of brilliance. 

"So, I have that going for me, which is nice." - Bill Murray, Caddy Shack