Eccentric

Hello again! It's me, the one and only Ness behind this here Nessville thingymajig. 

Well, what can I tell you?  

I'm chiming in at the last minute for Friday Reflections. The prompt was: Eccentric.

And I'm pretty sure I am. Eccentric, that is. 

Also; boring. Boringly eccentric. Or eccentrically boring. Or something. 

Here's why: 

I write a pointless blog about myself that no one reads. Meh,  I prefer to think of it as inventing my own little world. Whatever. 

I decided to shave my hair off and keep it in a 'silver pixie' style right after having it grow back after chemo all curly and Leo Sayer like, and then it finally looked normal and I did that. The silver pixie thing. 

Me with my pixie hair and a toblerone cocktail. 

I can't seem to form sentences (see above), but that doesn't stop me from pretending I'm a writer/blogger.

I went on a road trip and one of the most exciting things I did while away was hit the op shops because I'm wild and crazy like that. WHOOOOOOO! 

I have eccentric offspring. May as well pass on the weirdness. Related: When we were away Mr 9 desperately wanted a skull ring and a pink flamingo money box. That's my boy.

I don't really talk.

I wear granny clothes, to go with my silver pixie.

My current fixations are true crime and Jane Austen novels.

I like to leave my tea bags IN. Might as well live dangerously. 

Most things that delight others bore the bejesus out of me. I'm thinking sport here. And vice versa. The things that delight me bore everyone else. I'm thinking Carpenters music here. 

I keep a 'bullet journal' that is, in fact, more like a bullshit journal. 

I have tonnes of paper and notebooks about the place, but they don't even have to be all pretty and special. I can't even throw the boys old school books out if they have spare/blank pages left in them. But at the same time, I'm bewildered about the endless plethora of 'printables' available on blogs and what the point of them is. I dunno. I'm weird. 

I get about feeling decidedly strange and yet never speak of it. Strange, as in this weird dizzy, spacey, shifting feeling in my head thing that's hard to explain, hence my never doing so. Sigh. 

I get jealous when I see people on social media out and about enjoying life. But it's not typical jealousy in the same way someone else might be jealous. It's jealously of other people's apparent lack of anxiety (and dizziness and anxiety about dizziness...). This is something that permeates every single thing that I do almost every day, so I crack the sads now and again and do that poor little me sooky la la thing. 

But at the same time, I can take pleasure in simple things. I don't necessarily need to be out and about and on the go all the time. Just last Saturday night I was sitting in my living room with all my mismatched, secondhand furniture, feeling quite contented with my Christmas trees twinkling at me, my cuppa tea, and my hard cover Jane Austen three-in-one I bought for two bucks fifty at the Sal's (op shop). Pride & Prejudice/Mansfield Park/Persuasion for any Austenphiles playing along. 

Yeah, so that's me. Eccentric. 

And just to continue the eccentricity I am also linking this up for Life This Week and Open Slather because I won't get around to writing something else because I have to have a blood test in the morning and go shopping and it's nearly Christmas and I'm rambling and I seem to have forgotten what punctuation is and.... 

That's enough from me. 

What about you?

What makes you eccentric?