On Being a Dork
The other day I was fixing this giant sandwich for lunch and I was getting really excited about it. It ruled, it was so huge. But then I thought that I was being a dork and I don’t need to get this excited about a sandwich. I mean, it’s just a ham sandwich. And that got me thinking a bit broader about myself. I admit that sometimes I can be a bit dorky. I have a Legend of Zelda themed iGoogle page. I keep track of what I drink. I laugh at my own jokes. I’m really into typography. I drive a Nissan Versa. I think stuff like this is hilarious:
So lately I’ve been trying to do stuff to up my street cred and lower my dork cred. I’ve tried carrying around a knife in my pocket to make me feel hardcore. The truth is, I wouldn’t know what to do with it unless an unopened cardboard box tried to mug me. I’ve tried not shaving as often, but we know how that turned out. Then I realized what the problem is: my glasses. I can’t look hardcore wearing rimmed glasses. But I remembered how much I hated wearing contacts and how I have no money to get lasik eye surgery.
If I had my way, I would be Wolverine, McGyver, and Dave Grohl all rolled into one. But I can’t be. So I guess I’ll just stay how I am and keep making mammoth ham and cheese sandwiches.
