My Alien Heritage

Dear Journal,

            I think I might be an alien. Everywhere I go people stare at me. I was in the store yesterday and this little girl walked up to me, handed me her toy cell phone and told me to “phone home.” I guess I just exude an alien vibe and, as you could have guessed, that wreaks havoc on my social life. I’ve tried talking to my parents about these troubling facts, but that didn’t go so well. My Dad just continued playing Space Invaders -he was so bad it almost seemed like he was trying to lose- without even acknowledging me. My Mom didn’t stop doodling weird patterns long enough to look at me. When I had finished ranting and raving, all she did was comment on my excellent, “probing” questions.

            I gave up trying to get some information out of my parents. Instead I decided that I’d look at myself. Most people seemed to sense something alien about me, so what was it? I think I figured it out.

            One of the first factors I considered was homeschooling. I had done it my whole life. Honestly, who does that? An alien, that’s who. Also, I was always a strange kid. I was the kind of child who was making my own comic books and dreaming of far away planets while all the other kids watched TV.

            That’s not to say I didn’t do normal things too. I did ride my bike quite frequently. I loved riding my bike. Sometimes, I would get it zooming down a hill, pedal as fast as I could, and pretend it would take off into the air. I spent so much of my childhood pretending that my bike could fly.

            Throughout my childhood, I’ve had some odd fears. It’s sort of difficult to explain, but I’ve always been freaked out by noodles that are standing up. The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that as a young alien baby I encountered the flying spaghetti monster and he scared me.

Speaking of baby aliens, do you know that I have Clark Kent glasses? I do. If that doesn’t prove my extra terrestrial heritage, I don’t know what will. We haven’t even mentioned the light sabers. I have four light sabers. I don’t know how that’s reasonable. I don’t have four arms, but apparently I needed all of those.

            I’m not the only one who’s suspicious, either. Most people who know me usually suspect some kind of alien invasion. I guess I can’t blame them. I do seem like an alien. Maybe I am. As of yet, no super powers have surfaced. I’m still holding out hope. It would make life a lot easier.

            I have to admit, it’s a little odd living with this burden on my shoulders. I feel so different. That must mean I’m an alien, right? Someone I know once suggested that I’m just a dork or a geek or something, but that makes no sense at all to me. I’m nothing like that! That person must not know me very well.