I watched Amelie the other day. Long story short, the love story is adorable, and I want it. I want it. If you don’t know what Amelie is, I’m not going to explain it here. Sorry. Go watch it.

What you need to know is the lead girl is super weird and adorable, and I want that love. I want her as my girlfriend. That’s all. I used to think I wanted the “hot athletic girl.” Nope. I was wrong. I prefer the “peculiarly sort of cute, eccentric girl.” I’m weird. I’m a weird person. I like odd things. I have strange quirks. Every day of my life is marked by at least one thing that’s awkward. Sometimes more than that. Most of the time, actually.

I thought I was sending a profanity laden political rant to my coworker in instant message…but I actually sent it to my boss. Dedicated work channel instant messaging, ftw. And that was just yesterday. I find songs that make me sad, and then I listen to them for hours on end at work. I talked about my families strange habit of “Middle Eastern rage” (because they’re freaking Middle Eastern), and now I’m pretty sure my boss thinks I’m a racist. Just tack that on to her wondering whether I like men or women, and whether or not I have shelter when I go home at night because I may be a hobo.

I don’t need to prove it to you. My life’s resume speaks for itself. I put the time in, see? Now I just want to be rewarded with a girl who accidentally spills coffee on her boss, or goes to search someone on facebook to stalk them but types their name into their status box. Someone who likes to people watch and wonders what that person’s life is like when they go home. Someone who wants to serenade a stranger just to see what would happen, but can’t quite work up the courage. Someone who uses made up idioms that make no sense, or offer proverbs in entirely wrong situations. Someone who uses a 12 year old phone because she insists the acoustics of smart phones are substandard. Someone who will stand up for her friends or those in need, even if it entails crossing a line that society has deemed as “illegal.” Is that too much to ask?

My good friend suggested finding a Zoey Deschanel lookalike. Close, but not quite there. I want weird, not quirky, and there is a difference.

Weird vs. quirky

There’s sincere weird, which is what I want. Cute, adorable, genuine weirdness. Then there’s insincere weird. That’s quirky. Now, a weird person can have quirks. That’s fine. But quirky people aren’t actually weird, except in their desire to be perceived as weird despite failing to possess the aptitude. See what I’m saying? Quirky is accepted by most of society. Weird is not. I just want an oddly attractive, eccentric girl. Now you know the difference.

I want

This is what I want. So I will scour the earth, holding out for my one true love, who I’ve known my entire life in my dreams, and who I will recognize the moment I see her. And then I will kiss the corner of her mouth, her neck, and her eye, and we will ride through the streets of Paris on my bike while she nestles her head on the back of my neck.

I’m not picky. I’m not demanding a ton. Is that too much to ask for?

Now here is the song I listened to for hours.