Hello, my name is Vanessa, and I am a Dork.


I've been doing some research, and most sources seem to agree that a Dork is someone who thinks they are Cool, or wants others to think they are Cool, but are hopelessly oh-so-not Cool. That's me, to a "T". (Some of you may be under the impression that "dork" is a term for a whale's penis. I have done some research and found that there are some sources that claim that is not the correct term for whale penis. So, I'm using it!)
I finally accepted my fate last week, after visiting my brother and his family.

My older brother was always the ultimate icon of Cool. Mr. Joe Cool. Big Man On Campus. SuperJock. Could grow a full mustache at the age of 14, had a steady girlfriend throughout highschool. Can make anyone laugh. Played college baseball. Met and married an also very Cool woman. They have Cool stuff, like ALL their stuff is Cool. Their daughters are Cool; one is even a cheerleader.

I've struggled with Coolness my whole life. Idolizing my brother, I followed him and his friends around, trying to make them laugh and include me. For that I got teased, punched and once told that I was adopted (more about my dorky gullibility in a moment). His girlfriend would occasionally humor me and let me tag along with them and her Cool brother and sister. Despite their help, I was still a Dork.

I was a jock in highschool; I played 3 sports. I was also on the newspaper staff and in AP classes. But I still never quite "fit in" anywhere; I was the one that everyone knew but no one hung out with. I was stuck in the middle. Not cool enough for the jocks, not smart enough for the nerds. (Nerds and Dorks are completely different things, btw.) But I tried. And generally just pissed everyone off. I couldn't for the life of me figure out WHY the cute football players wouldn't ask me out. (I had stick-straight hair and wore black when BIG BIG hair and neon were "In" in the 80's in Idaho) Being a muscular and vivacious jock, the nerd guys were afraid of me; they tended toward the pale, quiet girls with bad perms. I couldn't win.

College, well, I think I just tried too hard. No study group would have me. The cute guys would flirt with me long enough to get a lil' somethin somethin and my flawless lecture notes, then run for the hills.

You'd think that having been a Personal Fitness Trainer might have made me cool. Hangin with the cool gym rats. No, no, I scared them off too...



Why? Why? I have asked myself this question a million times over the years. Now, I think I may have my answer. Here's a brief list of the things that make me A Dork (capital A, capital D):

-I have an uncanny knack--nay-- a TALENT for saying the wrong thing to the wrong people at the wrong time. For example: In college, I had a roommate who was African American. Nice guy who rented a room from me. One night, while hanging out with his friends in the apartment, I passed on a joke that I'd heard earlier that had cracked up everyone around. I don't want to repeat it here, but let's just say it may have been a teensy bit racist. Which didn't even cross my mind before the punchline crossed my lips. Oy. He quietly moved out a few weeks later.

-I try too hard. I WANT people to like me. I NEED people to like me and will stumble over my pathetic self to ingratiate myself to them. I once took Christmas cookies to someone whom I had only met one time, but were so cool I wanted to show them how much I liked them. So there I was, on their snowy doorstep with a paper plate of homemade cookies, giggling madly and waiting for them to invite me in. Needless to say, I made the walk of shame back to my car. After shoveling their driveway.

-I LOVE NPR. For those of you who don't know what that is (and I"m SHOCKED), it stands for National Public Radio. Like PBS, it mainly consists of news and current events shows, science and tech roundups and jazz or classical music. All of my podcasts are from NPR.

-I don't have cable and I hate reality shows. 'Nuff said.

-I am not impressed by name-brand expensive clothing. Well, ok, I'll admit I might be impressed by it, but I sure as hell am not going to spend the money to have it. I can't understand spending that much money on clothes! I start to twitch just looking at price tags in boutiques and department stores. I hate the mall. I would chew off my own arm to avoid going there. I even have a hard time at the outlet mall, which I love. Sure, it's a great deal to only pay $150 for a Coach bag that retails for $500, but Holy Shit! 150 bucks for a freakin purse! NO! Or $50 for a t-shirt? ACK! I just cannot make myself fork over more than $30 for any item, unless it's a really nice gift for someone I love. And even then, I'm checking the clearance rack first. I will proudly brag about how little I've spent on something.

-I'm a stickler for grammar and spelling and punctuation. I can't text message because reading something like:" whts up sum ppl r gtting 2gether 2nite 4 drnks wanna cum" makes me nuts. And replying takes me 5 minutes as I spell everything out and punctuate. Just call me, for cripes' sake!

-I'm gullible. I'll believe just about anything someone tells me with a straight face. When we first moved in together, I remarked to my husband that his stoneware dishes seemed to dry in a short time. Deadpan, he says, "Yeah, I bought them just for that. They're fast-drying dishes." I totally believed him.

Now, here are a few things that you'd think might make me cool, but, sadly...

-I have a tatoo. Whoo! She's a wild one, how cool, right? I had wanted a tattoo for years, but wanted (in true dorky style) to make sure it was THE RIGHT ONE. Something I could live with forever, in a place that wouldn't end up looking like I had an oddly-shaped birthmark when things start to sag. On my 33rd birthday, I had a crappy Oh-my-God I'm Old! moment and grabbed the first thing I could find and had it needled on. The small of my back. My brother giggles and calls it my "whore-too". I can't see the stupid thing.

-I have an iPod. Filled with Erasure and NPR. I make people listen to it in my car, convinced that they, too, will LOVE it. No one rides with me anymore....

-I have a MacBook. Very white, very cool. And I can't figure out how to find anything on it. We converted from a PC and I am so very confused.

-I have a MySpace page. I have 54 friends, and I get quite a few friend requests each day. From people who either want to sell me something or who have not even read my page but want to up their friend count.

Ok, I'll wrap this up.

Despite all of this, I've decided to like me. Even if no one else does! :) I guess I like what I like. I will, however, continue to be aware and attempt to curb the "trying too hard" thing. Sadly, I can't seem to fix the filter that is broken, causing me to continually stick my foot in my mouth. Sorry in advance for all the stupid things I might say, or nonsensical comments I might leave. Trust me; in my head, they're really funny.

So, I'm instituting International Inner Dork Day!! Express your inner Dork!