On Being Normal

Commiserating with mon amie tonight, she calls me 'crazy' and then laughs gleefully. I laughed, too, but when I stopped I subconsciously asked if she was serious. Still smiling, she nods her head and says "Yes." I ask again, this time with a not-so-joyful smile; again she responds "Yes" while smiling.

So I call her on it, in shock that she actually thinks I'm crazy, I ask her to define it. She looks it up and rattles off a list of synonyms. They are:

1 a: full of cracks or flaws : UNSOUND b: CROOKED, ASKEW
2 a: MAD, INSANE b (1): IMPRACTICAL (2): ERRATIC c : being out of the ordinary: UNUSUAL < a taste for crazy hats >
3 a: distracted with desire or excitement < a thrill-crazy mob > b: absurdly fond : INFATUATED c: passionately preoccupied : OBSESSED

She looks up, satisfied, like she's just answered my request. I stare at her, waiting for her to give me a proper definition. I ask, "So, what's the definition? Which of those am I? Give me some synonyms." She stumbles over her thoughts for a minute, searching for her reply. Eventually, she responds with, "Well, I think everybody is crazy."

"Everybody, huh?" I question, fiercely, waiting for the kill.

"Yeah, all of us," she returns. Oh, I got her now.

"Then, if I'm crazy and everyone else is, too, then that makes me normal, not crazy." I'm so sure I'm right in this moment, I've never felt more sure in my life.

She tried to fight back, but I just repeated the statement over and over, varying my tone of voice to avoid the monotony.

She couldn't prove we were all crazy, but I understood her point. She just couldn't articulate it.

I am the Laughing Buddha. Long live.