Pondering eccentricity

There's some small part of me that wants to be the eccentric outlier who just lives in her little world and communicates with those whom she feels like interacting with and ignores those whom she feels are not worth speaking to.

But here's a question: I know I won't be the hip but blase sort of eccentric who has green nail polish, pink starched pigtails, and wears a tutu (well, maybe the tutu) and carries a giant lolly. Those are the people I would feel would be not worth speaking to--if I were eccentric, I mean. So then, will I be the eccentric but brilliant scientist who lives in the Alps observing the burrowing and hibernation patterns of marmots and is highly revered but at a safe distance bc "well, she's kinda weird?" Or will I be the type of eccentric who writes poetry and smells of turpentine, wears knee high rainbow socks, a tiara, and quite possibly a tutu while sitting at a local fair trade coffee shop, uncrossing and crossing my legs continually (and not in a Sharon Stone way either). Or will I wait til the winter years to be eccentric and have strange garden gnomes in my yard, play the latest version of WOW, and tell people to go to hell randomly while blaming it on dementia? Or will I look perfectly "normal" but devote myself to speaking only in haikus or in iambic pentameter? Or will I be the Andy Kaufman sort of eccentric who just does things solely because I find them funny? Or will I be the PhD graduate who locks herself in a treehouse finding hidden messages in tree bark and froot loop box prizes, only to be ignored by those who don't see the messages, thus sending me to a spot under a bridge where I make a house out of the empty froot loop boxes and live on dandelions and buttercups?

Or will I just not be eccentric at all?