Does that make me crazy?

I am of the opinion that every single person on this planet is their own specific brand of crazy. Anyone who claims they're not? Well, they're lying. Or delusional. One or the other.

There are those defining moments in a person's life where they either figure out they're insane, or they realize that someone else has figured out they're absolutely batshit crazy.

I have known I was crazy for a while. I mean, really, who else finds it impossible to eat Pull'n'Peel Twizzlers without tying them in knots with their tongue? Yes, this turned itself into a fancy party trick, but really, it slows down the eating process. I also find it impossible to NOT snap after a high five. Though for that, I blame Scrubs. Thanks, the Todd.

Recently other people have been immersed in my crazy, unsuspecting victims though they were.

Example:

I went on a date last weekend (*gasp* A date? Yes, a date. These are the only details you people get for now. Suck it. I love you). We went ice skating, and as we were sitting around the fire, waiting for the awesome Zamboni (I love Zambonis) to do its job, I casually mentioned that every time I breathe out and can see my breath, it makes me feel like a dragon.

Because that's normal, right?

He sat there and stared at me, and then his eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his head as I muttered, "Roar."

He gawked, I shrugged. Better he find out now, right? Right.

Does that make me crazy?

Possibly.