Normal

I know the whole "hey, we went on a cruise!" thing is getting old, but a) I promise this will be the very last time I bring it up, and b) you will just love how I manage to whine  throughout the post anyway. And we know that's why you all come here. To read about my complaining, pouting, and just all-around "the glass isn't half full, it's more like 9/10ths empty" misery.

Anyway, I wanted to spend one last post telling you all about what I really liked about the cruise. Besides the kick-a** view, the sunshine, and the awesome excursions. What I really liked best is that I felt normal. Just normal. I wasn't different from anyone on board that ship. Or if I was, it was just as different as everyone else. And I don't think I've felt that normal since we moved to Georgia.

Yes, since June of 2007, I have felt like a sore thumb. And for those of you who think I'm exaggerating, let's run down the list. First, except for Mary, I am the only woman among my acquaintances, who actually holds down a job. Seriously. Of the twenty or so women I socialize with, I am the only one who is gainfully employed. I don't mean to underestimate the pressures of homeschooling or childrearing, but the bottom line is that I am the only who goes to the dry cleaner for things other than their husband's blues. I am the only who dresses up during the week, and down on the weekend. Once again, except for Mary, I'm the only one who complains about bosses, co-workers, and budget cuts.
Second, I'm not a die-hard conservative, and I do not know the bible back to front either. Do I really need to tell you I'm the only one?
And finally, the baby thing. Of course, the baby thing. Because, again, except for Mary (and thank God for Mary), I am possibly the only woman in the entire town who does not tote around a diaper bag and/or snacks, wet wipes, or the latest Dora toy.

Don't get me wrong; I do anything but revel in this. You all know I would love to have a baby. I don't think we need to go there. I wish I was OK with just staying at home, and dang, if only I could learn to love Glenn Beck/Jerry Falwell/Mike Huckabee, I would fit in so much better around here. I'm serious. I don't like being different. I just want to fit in.

But on the cruise, that's exactly what I did. Our dinner companions were from Washington state and New Jersey, and thought I was from another planet when I mentioned how our county is dry on Sunday. Both women had serious careers, and no one wanted to pray before dinner. Everyone had traveled all over the world, and not while TDY either. There were people with kids on the ship, but there were plenty of people without them too. And the ones who had brought their kids didn't talk about them all day long either. There were female officers with more responsibility than I can ever imagine, and no one asked me where "Holland" was, or if that was part of Denmark or somehow related to Amsterdam.

So, yes, I felt normal. And it was awesome. As I told husband-dear on our last night on our trip, it took me this long to realize that just because I'm different, doesn't mean it's me. I'm not weird. Or at least, not abnormally weird. Yes, I'm different than almost everyone at home, but it's not me.

Not that that realization helps me fix anything. But at least now we know that if the whole "I'm different" thing gets too much, all we need to do is take a cruise. Easy as pie.