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!





Comments

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.

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