blackbird.jpg (30437 bytes)

2005-07-31 @ 10:31 p.m.
what IF cool

So this morning I was laying in bed having one of those...I don’t want to get up, because life sucks days. I was tired, irritable and yes, say it witty, go ahead, we all know it was on the tip of your tongue...bitchy. I was trying to figure out what is wrong with my social life. I mean, other than not having any. I am so incredibly lonely right now, and yet the magical unseen powers that seemingly keep me lonely, I think, could be used for good. But I have this thing, you see. I must retain control of all situations at all times. And when you’re dealing with other humans, you can’t do that. They’re all crazy and uncontrollable, doing nutty things, like taking advantage of you, not keeping promises, being married to other people, not liking you when you like them, deceiving you, lying to you, making you feel things you don’t want to feel, both good and bad, showing you pictures of their naked butt even though they’re married, emotionally bribing you with offers of making you part of their family even though you know this isn’t possible. I just don’t like when you can’t control what another person does to you. So thus far, I have chosen not to re-involve myself with anyone.

Yay me.

That’s sarcastic, by the way.

So I’m really lonely and I would like some human contact, but I’m just afraid to pursue it because...well, see above. I also have this thing which I like to call, rather self importantly, the coolness factor. I don’t want anyone to see me lose my cool and I know that happens when you get involved with someone. They see all of you...the good, the bad and the ugly. I guess I’m not sure if I want anyone to see the ugly. I like my facade of being the humorous, somewhat cool artsy type who can come up with a quip for almost any occasion. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get me any dates...only laughs. And you can only bask in the glow of a laugh for so long (about 1.6 milliseconds...I’ve timed it) and then its just back to the bleak wittykitty spinsterdom that is my life.

I started to think about what coolness is and how it factors into relationships. I know some people USE coolness to get dates. I don’t have that kind of coolness. I have intellectual coolness and I’m maybe about maybe 20% physically cool, as in the way I dress and present myself. If I had money, that would be way higher, let me tell you. I would love to dress better...because to dress better is to feel better. Isn’t that totally girly of me to say? But I totally believe it. I always feel better, for instance, after I get my hair cut or get a massage, because I feel like I did something to take care of myself and my self esteem shoots through the ceiling. I am such a trophy wife waiting to happen.

Some people though, are just effortlessly cool. The other night, during the break at my art class, I was looking around, and pretty much everyone in my class was cool looking. Not a geektard in sight. The Professional Artist Guy was wearing loose fitting khaki shorts and a linen shirt and was walking around barefoot. The Goth girl had green hair and black baggy pants with an Iggy Pop t-shirt and a safety pin through her ear. “L” the hippie chick had on baggie shorts and a t-shirt with a Satanic cartoon strip printed on it. I had on my black biker babe tank top and wiccan necklace and jeans that made it obvious there was nothing else underneath.

But really the winner of the effortlessly cool contest in my art class is this young girl who has been coming for almost a year. I call her a member of the Tim Burt0n Girl Gang. She is a twin, but her twin doesn’t come that often. But this girl is her own Picasso drawing. Every week, we pretty much wonder what we will behold when she comes in the door. During the last year she has had bright pink hair, purple hair, red hair, lime green hair, orange hair, burgundy hair, sometimes all at the same time. She’s had various lengths. She’s had ponytails coming out of her forehead like some psychotic unicorn. She’s had brush cuts. She’s shaved images into her head. And we still haven’t gotten to her clothes yet. On any given night she’ll come walking in wearing yellow and mustard colored plaid bermuda shorts from her Dad, over black fishnet stockings, over red high top sneakers with a Marilyn Manson tee-shirt or a Hello Kitty t-shirt or a Gilligan’s Island t-shirt. Once she came in a flack jacket over a dress. The next week she wore a black bustier over shorts and army boots. But what’s really interesting, is her eye make-up. She likes Tim Burt0n and does very dramatic makeup like this....

By the way, when I was doing that image in Photoshop, I typed “What IS cool” but with the Frankenstein font, it looks like What IF cool, which is even a more intriguing question. The thing is though, this girl is only 17 and she totally makes all this stuff works. I mean, I totally want to BE her. And I’m 47. Of course, I’d look like a dork if I wore any of that stuff, but she works her coolness to her advantage, although I don’t know if she’s getting any dates out of it, but still.

So I really don’t know how to use coolness to my advantage, because there’s such a big difference in the kinds of coolness that there is. For instance, when I was in high school, I wasn’t particularly cool, especially the part where I belonged to the Journalism Club. That just totally reeked of geekdom. But I wasn’t a total disaster. I wore really, really, really short dresses and was the President of the Sarcasm Society, a club my friends and I created when they wouldn’t let us into other clubs. The only other ways I ever got noticed or was deemed “cool” was always through my accomplishments like writing for the school newspaper, being in “Who’s Who in American High Schools”, playing the piano for all the theatre productions and musical groups, doing posters for plays or artwork like this....

“Aquarius...sympathy and understanding....Sorry, I just felt the sudden urge to start singing a Broadway song when I saw that.

So I think what I’m really saying is, I was never confident that someone would like me for me. I always thought I had to produce a dog and pony show or crack jokes or write well or do something fantabulous to be noticed and loved. I just never believed that anyone could ever just love me for me. And I still don’t. And I realize I’m using the coolness thing as an excuse not to let someone in, but like yikes, I don’t want anyone to see THAT. I guess I forget that the other people have flaws too, and yet they're still willing to open themselves up. How brave. But I’m still in a quandary. Why?

Because vulnerability is like standing on the ledge of the tallest building in New York City and taking one step forward. Kinda scary.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty