Questions About Myself

I've been wondering about the "me" I present to the world every day.  The reason I'm wondering is because very often on my little 5-minute commute, I see this lady out weeding her yard.  In her nightgown.  Weeding her front yard, facing a busy residential street.  In her nightgown.  And not that I want to paint too graphic a picture for you here, but let me just tell you that the sun shining behind a cotton nightie...uh...conceals very little.

You have to admit it's a strange way to face the world.  What is she thinking?  What does she see when she looks in the mirror?  I have a great many more questions about this (up to and including whether or not this is evidence of insanity) but it also makes me consider what other people might see in me that makes them wonder.
  • What do people think when they see me driving down the road singing?  If they know me, they're thinking, "Thank God I can't hear her singing."  What about the ones who don't know me?  For that matter, I'll even ask the people who do know me:  do I look crazy, singing "Crazy" to myself?  Now that they've invented hands-free communication devices, I hope people just think I'm on the phone.  But I doubt it.
  • People who read this blog might remember my confession about a perfectly stupid fear of mine, which I really hate to even admit.  But if you know me, and you know what I confessed to, does it make you think I'm a little wacko?
  • I like skirts and dresses.  That isn't TOO crazy, since I am a woman, after all.  I truly prefer them to jeans.  I blame it on my strict upbringing, but that's an excuse.  I simply prefer a dress.  I guess I could say I think my legs are better than my ass, but I'm not sure about that.  People ask me all the time what I'm dressed up for.  It sounds a bit crazy when I say, "comfort".
  • My relationship with my dog is a little puzzling.  We still struggle somewhat for the title "dominant female".  She is not alllowed in the house (and I don't want to hear your lectures about it, either.  My reasons are very valid, and you probably wouldn't let her in your house, either.)  but she is still an integral member of our family.  I love her, but I'm not sure I like her.  Is that a little crazy?
  • I think it is absolutely disgusting to mix your corn in with your mashed potatoes and gravy.  I don't mind soup or stew or Chinese food, and all of those mix vegetables up with other things.  But the corn stays out of the spuds.  Period.  And honestly, I am NOT a picky eater.  It must be the texture.
  • I salt my toast.  I can't even explain that.
  • My children are the greatest.  I love them beyond reason.  I think they are cool and handsome and all things good.  But I don't especially like your children.  There are a few exceptions to this, but very few.  How can I have such boundless love for my kids and so little patience for yours? 
I wonder what the outside world thinks of me and my quirks.  Don't tell.  I probably don't want to know what you think.  The next time you go out to weed your front yard in your nightie, you might want to wonder what the world is seeing when they look at you.