I’m not cool

So the other day as I was sitting on the bus, I remembered a random memory from my childhood.  I’m not sure how exactly it popped into my head, there must have been a long process of certain things making me think of other certain things, thoughts constantly jumping every which way until they led up to that memory.  You know the crazy ways the mind works.  This particular memory made me laugh to myself and think about how my sense of humour and outlook on life has always been with me from a very young age.  A sense of humour and outlook that not everyone seems to understand.

I’m the type of person who uses a lot of sarcasm.  But I’m that person who will make a sarcastic comment and have people not realize that it was intended as a sarcastic comment.  I’ll say it and they’ll give me a weird look and be like “What?  Really?”.  And I’ll be like “No, I was being sarcastic”.  And then they’ll think that me saying I was being sarcastic was sarcasm.  Yeah, I undergo a lot of communication difficulties because of this.  But it’s okay.  Because there are a few people who do get me and do understand.  And that’s what’s important.

I’m also the type of person who puts herself down a lot.  But not in a depressing way.  Well okay, I suppose it can be in a depressing way.  But a funny and witty depressing way if that makes any sense to you.  Pretty much every time I make a self-deprecating remark, it’s for the sake of humour.  Because I think that the funniest people and best comedians are the ones that can make fun of themselves.  Anyone can make fun of other people.  But I really admire those who are comfortable enough to make fun of themselves.

So this memory that came to mind the other day was when I was in Grade Seven.  I may be a bit fuzzy on the details, because my memory is not what it used to be.  Actually maybe it is, maybe I’ve always had a bad memory.  I really don’t remember.  Anyway, we were at this youth group and sitting in a circle.  I think it was some sort of small group icebreaker thing.  I always hated those small group icebreaker things.  I’ve never liked being forced to bond with people.  If I want to, I will, but it’ll be my decision to do so.

We had to go around the circle and say our name and something cool about ourselves.  I hate that.  It’s always something.  Like let’s go around and say your most embarrassing moment.  Or if you could be an animal, what animal would you be?  Or where you’d like to be in five years.  What is this, an interview?  I already knew the kids in my group anyway, they were in my class.  But I guess this was just one of those fun ways to pass the time.

It always sucks to go first in those things, because then you have to think quickly about what you’re going to say.  I wasn’t first, so I got to hear the other kids before I said mine.  It didn’t have to be anything special, you could literally say anything.  I remember one kid said he liked Star Wars.  That’s the only thing I remember.  And then another kid responded with “That’s not cool”.  Great, now we were being judged for what our own definition of cool was.  I don’t think any of the things we said were actually “cool”.  But then really, how do you define cool?  It’s all subjective anyway.

When it came to me, I’m sure there were a lot of things that I could have said.  I think I was going to say that I was the tallest one in the school or something like that.  But I didn’t.  What did I say instead?  I said “I’m Dominique, and I’m not cool”.  I didn’t mean it seriously.  I meant it as a joke.  Saying that I wasn’t cool was my own way of rebelling and making a statement about what I thought of the icebreaker.  I had specifically answered the question by refusing to answer the question.  I thought I was being clever.

But other people didn’t think so.  My response was received with some people going “Aww..” and then actually trying to suggest something that I could say about why I was cool.  They didn’t seem to understand that I didn’t want or need their suggestions, and I was perfectly fine with my original answer.  They thought that I was actually so sad that I couldn’t come up with a single thing about me that could be considered cool.

I could have taken this experience and changed my ways and tried to assimilate to behave in a way that other people found more acceptable.  I could have started to answer questions more appropriately and toned down my sarcasm in the future.  But I didn’t.  Because that’s just not who I am.  Even now, a lot of you probably thought from the title of this blog post that this was going to be me writing about the reasons that I’m not cool and that it would be all depressing.  Who would do something like that?  Actually, that does sound like something I might do.  But I would do it for the sake of humour and nothing else.  Because I’m cool like that.