Today started as a normal day. My friend and I went to the mall. There was one store in particular that I was looking forward to checking out — a comic book store nestled in between a Lush and a Forever 21. Since it was in a mall, this place had all kinds of merchandise in addition to their admittedly pretty small collection of actual comic books. Think of it as kind of an FYE, with toys and accessories relating to anything that people who would actually visit a comic book store would find appealing.
Now I am a woman with very many tastes, and until today I always thought my hobbies and interests were all independent of each other. I love Marvel, Harry Potter, singing, playing the ukulele and piano, reading classic literature, watching Disney movies, TV shows with cult followings, Greek mythology, alternative rock music, and Nintendo. I have always prided myself on enjoying the things I love and not caring that I was different from my — for lack of a better term — more “basic” friends. I am who I am and I like what I like and I won’t pretend to be something I’m not to fit in. Up until this point, I was convinced that I am somewhat unique.
I walk in and see what I expected to see in a comic book store. Comics, and comic book character accessories. Then I am delighted to notice an entire Harry Potter section filled with Ravenclaw house goodies (and the other 3 houses too, I suppose). So that’s pretty cool! I keep making my way through the store and I see merchandise for Rick and Morty, Parks and Rec, and other awesome shows I spend a lot of time obsessing over. I see Pokemon, gay pride merchandise and all the unicorns, cats, tacos and outer space mugs. An entire wall is dedicated to band tee shirts and vinyls of amazing musicians ranging from The Killers to The Ramones. At this point I decide this store is my Mecca. Finally, a wall display of ukuleles presents itself to me and I officially lose my shit. I can’t remember being so excited since Christmas morning as a four year old.
That is until I stop, and look around me in horror. Surrounding me are dorky guys with Pokemon backpacks and gamer girls in graphic tee shirts. My people. I give a look of genuine concern to my friend and very seriously ask him, “Am I a stereotype?” A moment of silence passes before he erupts into laughter, and he very kindly informs me that I am, in fact, a Quirky Girl™.
All this time, I was proud to be different and to enjoy the things I like, often being the odd one out in my group of friends, only to realize that just about everything that makes me “unique” can be found in a comic book store in a mall that is peddling my interests to a demographic that very obviously enjoys the same things as me. I quietly walked out of the store, scarred for life (or at least the afternoon) with my friend following and laughing at my misery and newfound identity crisis.
I write this first blog post now, hours later, and can proudly say that I have officially bounced back and have come to terms with who I am. And quite honestly, you can do worse than living a Zooey Deschanel – type existence. I am a Quirky Girl™ and I am damn proud of it. Now please excuse me while I go debate with a guy on the internet about whether Breath of the Wild or Ocarina of Time is the better LoZ.