After having a recurring observation or performing an inexplicable action, I often brood over the most pressing existential question to ever face teenage sit-com characters: am I weird?

Below are a few thoughts I have had over the past few weeks. Ideally, you, the reader, will comment and let me, the blogger, know if we have a shared musing or if I’m just weird. Let’s make this relationship work.

1. Shortly after I facebook stalk someone, they will inevitably appear in real life. I’ll see someone on Locust Walk, and their Facebook profile seems to appear over their heads, as I quietly judge them for their laughable music taste (Nickelback? For real?), embarrassingly contrived profile picture (your heavily-Photoshopped default with your eyes gazing to the far left is neither unique nor hip), or their “Hot or Not” application (if you have to ask, the answer’s “not”). Occasionally, I will meet someone for the first time in reality, even though I have already seen an entire album of their dog wearing clothes. I suspect that this new acquaintance remembers that “Dude, Where’s my Car?” is listed as one of my favorite movies. Neither of us mention anything.

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