Bizarro Meredith

Where Superman changes in a locked room rather than a phone booth and swims at the speed of thunder, where rain drips up, where clocks tick counter clock wise, where dogs meow, where squeezing orange juice turns it into oranges. Where?

Bizarro World.

Where everything that should be isn't and versa vise. It's downside up and outside in and entirely irresponsible. It's where I live.

When Elaine met Bizarro-Jerry and his friends in Season 8, she wasn't disappointed, rather, she stepped into a new world suspiciously surprised. The rudeness and foul kookiness of her real-life friends had vanished like a resolved haunting, and suddenly things were working out. Bizarro-Kramer had good ideas. Bizarro-George read important literature. Bizarro-Jerry appreciated people asking before taking his olives. And this Bizarro World made sense. Ok, maybe a little daunting, but it was a relief if nothing else. It was bizarre but wonderful...

My old world made more sense. Where I came from, people where sparingly rude, they were sweet. They smiled and even made eye contact with strangers as they walked down the street. Friends called each other to say hi. Leaves changed colors. We used air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter. It was an unashamed community, where even though things were tough and wealth was unpopular, love was unbound and made the grass grow green.

I stepped into a new world solely with suspicion. I was greeted with a "May God Bless Your Soul," and it was downhill and spiraling from there.

Nay, things in my world are not as I suspected. California projects itself like sunshine and reckless optimism as if it were a sugary bottled drink for kids that everyone's addicted to. All summer long there are festivals and parades and peasant skirts that float on Birkenstock wearing girls who twirl. There are mountains and oceans and bridges and skylines in the same line of sight. It's a state marked 'go-lucky.'

Lies! Dirty, rotten conspiracy of a land! People who've grown here have gotten so much sun they have all dried out and flaked. Their twirls and floating are not just drug induced, but crazy-induced. The sun is a mirage. Today, July 20, in the middle of summer, I turned on my heater, wore socks to bed, and hid from fog. WTF?

I, the same person I was before, but perhaps a little older and more experienced, have not been introduced to a single soul who wants to offer friendship, rather than just take it. I have not met a man who cares to see me beyond the obvious. In all this milk and golden honey, I have not found a comfort to sustain me.

This state is Bizarro. We have a non-American actor for a governor! That's backwards! And everyone underneath is just as cracked. No one tells it like it is. No one loves for the sake of loving. No one cares. Everyone is a soulless facebook friend. Everything is an ultimate and absolute. Bizarro World is an unfortunate reality and the saddest of stories. I am still surprised by my disappointment. There needs to be a better ending than this or where I feel headed.

• Jerry: Yeah. Like Bizarro Superman. Superman's exact opposite, who lives in the backwards bizarro world. Up is down, down is up. He says "Hello" when he leaves, "Good bye" when he arrives.
• Elaine: Shouldn't he say "bad bye"?
• Jerry: No, it's still goodbye.
• Elaine: Does he live underwater?
• Jerry: No.
• Elaine: Is he black?
• Jerry: Look, just forget the whole thing, all right?

As a character in this Bizarro World, let me just say: me so not happy, me want to cry.