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Thursday, January 31, 2013

Being a Dork

I am a complete dork.

I am.  I always have been.

I'm not sure when it started.  Having a speech impediment as a kid pretty much labels you as odd early on, so maybe then?

Or maybe it was the mass of curly hair?

Who knows?  I just have never really fit and I've never been nor have ever tried to be cool.

Well, that's not exactly true-- some days I think I'm cool and then I trip and fall.

I met my friend Ellen for coffee at this hip cafe downtown and I told her I was going to wear black and wear a hat so I would look cool.  We both cracked up because neither one of us is particularly cool.  She shared with me about her hilarious times working in LA- which is wanna be cool person mecca-- and being uncool.

It's probably why we are friends.

Being an uncool dork has actually worked for me.  Throughout my life I have been told that I am, in fact, cool because I am so myself.

That makes me laugh.

And usually spit a little and realize I have spinach in my teeth.

And then trip.

And wheeze a little while I laugh.

Because I am definitely, if nothing else, 100% myself.  I am not graceful.  I am not elegant.  I always look a little off.  I never have a good hair day and clear skin day on the same day.  Ever.

I'm a dork.

I tell silly jokes.  That I laugh at even if no one else does.

I dance in public.  Even when the music is in my head.

I laugh far too loud.  I don't know when to shut up.  I ask too many questions.  I fart at inappropriate times.

I have no sense of style aside from comfortable.  I go off on tangents.  I overthink things.

I have not just muffin tops, but also muffin sides and bottoms.

My hair- well-- it's independent.

I can't lie and I roll my eyes.

Beer and soda make me gassy to a point that I can't drink them in public.

I spill nearly everything I eat or drink down my front.

I didn't just go to band camp as a kid-- I went to math camp.  And I cried when I left.

Super Dorkarina.

But I have to say, I've always embraced my dorkiness.  Today the song "Groove is in the Heart" was stuck in my head.  I LOVE that song just not all day, ringing through my brain while I'm trying to work.

A normal person would not have been able to break out into song throughout the day in this situation.  I am already a dork.  I can. It's poetic license to be weird. 

Weird is awesome. 

I was at a conference this week and one woman that I know who is fairly successful shared a few years ago that her secret to client acquisition is being the coolest person her clients know.  She suggested I do more cool things.  I spit laughed. 

Me clubbing... me spending the day at the spa--- seriously?  I can think of 100 wardrobe malfunctions and embarrassing situations in less than 5 seconds.

She can be cool.  As for me, I will embrace my inner dork. 

Being cool is far too exhausting. 

So cheers to my fellow dorks!  May your glass always be half full and spill slightly as you drink!

1 comment:

Jim scott said...

Even for the briefest of moments when it thought I was cool, I most certainly wasn't. Can't dance, same eating disorder as you, wear it. And be thankful you have any hair days, I haven't had a hair day of any kind since Bush 1 was president. But my wife loves me anyway, so that's cool.