I had a debate with myself about this title, because I doubt I was able to act much different from every baby for at least the first year of my life, and I was going to add two years just to be safe.  But I didn’t want to alarm my internet big-sisters by making them think I’m even younger than I am.  So, without any eyewitness testimony (though I’m sure Gramma would gladly provide some), I’m going to claim strangeness from birth.

Now, on to the reason for this post.

I finally put up my Christmas tree.  Which isn’t strange, except that the process of putting it up in this corner of my living room included  placing the fake tree on the back porch.  Somehow, I had decided that would be awesome, when it was actually just “awesome” – one of those things that is fun to talk about, but fairly strange in reality.

Especially since my back porch faces an alley-way between sorority and fraternity houses, and I just noticed that the wheels have been stolen from my garbage can.