Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m cool. I put on sunglasses inside and sit in my chair on my computer, Benedict and then I listen to music I assume is hip and try to dance even though I grew up Nazarene and therefore cannot dance. That is usually about the time that I realize that I’m on my computer, Benedict, and that probably means that I’m not, in fact, cool. I try to imagine what the cool kids are probably doing. They’re probably playing football and at cheer practice. For a minute I snort, annoyed with them and their coolness. However, that’s about the time I remember that I’m eeking up on my twenty-seventh birthday and I no longer have to care about football players and cheerleaders. Then I go back to Benedict and turn on music that I know for a fact is not hip, I try to dance even though I grew up Nazarene and therefore cannot dance.
Who cares that I’m not in the in crowd. I have my knitting needles, my fake mustache, and a level 85 troll shaman. My lot in life is to be the gigantic nerd that I am– to carry around piles of books as well as my e-reader, to name my electronics, and to write pages of nonsense that no one will read. I was a geek when that meant that you didn’t have a clique to hang out with, it just meant that you ate alone and begged every night for time to speed up so that high school would be over. It seems that I’m a geek hipster. I was geek before geek was chic, and I’ll wear that badge like a badge.
Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m living in my favorite TV shows or that I’m a really big fish with really sharp teeth… like a shark, or that I’m Batman. That isn’t weird. It’s not.