Let's have a toast for the weirdos

New York City is the only place where you'll be sitting in between two people on the subway and one of them is reading the Bible and whispering prayers, while the other person is rapping out loud and wearing a black jacket with "G Unit" sewed on the front with blue thread. And then there's me, stuck in the middle, tapping my cross-legged foot to Guns N' Roses.

Since I've moved here, people always ask me what I like the most about NYC. Well, this would have to be it. The fact that you can be whoever you want to be, wear whatever you desire and do what makes you happy. I did that back in Wisconsin, and I was labeled the 'odd girl that wore strange outfits and spoke her mind.' Out here I'm just another unique weirdo living amongst all sorts of weirdos.

In this city, it's acceptable (and even considered a form of art) to get up on a stage in a bar and dance in a little sequined outfit. And that's good for me, since that's what I do. You'll also find that ever fifth man you see wearing leather is probably in a band. He'll be all kinds of good looking and most likely breaking tons of hearts. Then there's subway performers, artists opening up galleries in SOHO and outrageous nightlife figures throwing over-the-top parties for all the club kids.

Once you find that group of people that you feel at home with ... you know, the ones that have seen you at your worst and still think you rock, stick with them. It's going to be those crazy kids that support you and encourage your weirdness, because that's what we do for each other.

So, unlike Kanye, who's having a toast for the scumbags, I'm raising my glass to all the weirdos.