Five Reasons I’ll Never Be Cool

I have been a nerd my entire life.  I held the title way back in the day, before being a nerd was cool.  I was correcting my babysitter’s grammar before my age was in double digits (double negatives make puppies cry) and I wore red tights with my school uniform when everyone else stuck with navy blue.  Kind people would refer to me as a free spirit.

Adult Riann isn’t all that different, really.  I only correct grammar in my head (even on Facebook, where text abbreviations and misspelling makes me twitch) and I am more open to matching articles of clothing, but I’m still more into books than bars and I consider a weekend a success when I finish a crochet project and try at least one new recipe.  Oh, once upon a time there was dancing on top of bars and kissing random boys, but I’m not sure what I was trying to prove.  I’m not that girl.  Even if I do still enjoy an occasional shot of tequila.

In any case, here’s my current list of reasons I’ll never be cool, in no particular order:

1.  During a conversation today, I busted out, “And in that one episode of Buffy, there was a baby-eating demon and the bad guys drugged Sunnydale High’s band candy so all the adults would be loopy and no one would notice when all the babies in the hospital were stolen.”  I apparently never got the memo that Buffy ended like a decade ago and no one refers to her in everyday conversation anymore.

2.  I made up a song about scrambled eggs and how much Brody loves them.  I call it the “Eggy Song” and I sing it to Brody every morning while I make my breakfast eggs.  He gets so excited he dances.  It’s awesome.

3.  I don’t care about baseball.  I live in St. Louis.  The Cardinals are a religion out here.  If blood wasn’t red already, hardcore people would claim to be the kind of fans who “Bleed Red”.  Maybe people DO say that.  Clueless = me.  I guess the Cards are doing something good right now because there are a million Facebook status updates with variations of “Let’s go Cards!” and I saw like 500 people wearing Cardinals jerseys at the grocery store tonight.  I wouldn’t know.  I don’t care.  Not even a little.  I think I could get kicked out of the city for admitting it.

4.  I am TERRIFIED of zombies.  Seriously.  I have nightmares about the zombie apocalypse.  Once upon a time, my now-ex-husband made me watch things like 28 Days Later and Dawn of the Dead.  I never fully recovered.  I have driven The Dude to distraction, asking him whether or not he’d shoot me should I become one of the shuffling horde of undead.  I may or may not spend a significant amount of time on the phone with my good friend Link, discussing zombie apocalypse survival strategy.  He works from home and he’s wily…his chances of making it out alive are good.  Me?  Not so much.  I have come to the sad conclusion that should the day come, I will be less like badass Wichita and more like the dude on the football field at the beginning of Zombieland.  This may or may not be part of my motivation for getting a trainer and stepping up the cardio.

5.  I am an unapologetic car singer.  In my car I sound like Lea Michele, but better.  The rest of the time, my singing voice could be used as a tool in hostage negotiations, much like rock music was used in Panama in the 80’s.  In traffic on my way home today, my windows were down and people around me were treated Smokey Robinson’s “You Really Got A Hold On Me” at the top of my lungs and the falsetto part of  U2’s “Numb” while rolling down highway 64.  I’m sure they appreciated it. 

So, yeah…I’ll never be cool.  But I’m fun.  We should be friends.  I made you cookies!




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