The truth?
I'm a dork.
I spent Friday night debating with a friend over whether our clique is full of dorks. We have always used the word in reference to ourselves, but we were unsure if it really applied to us. The ironic thing was that I wasn't talking with my friend in person or over the phone; we were chatting over the Internet. That is dorky.
What is a dork?
Most people would consider those without any friends to be dweeb material. However, at this school, everyone manages to find friends. The nerds have their friends, and they're happy. Thus there is more to being a loser than having no friends. In my opinion, weekend variety is a first step to ending one's total loser status. My problem is that all my friends are guys. Their parents dominate them, and all they can ever do is play poker or jam with their go-nowhere, no-talent band. I'm not a gambling man, and I'm not in the band, so I end up washing my clothes or using the computer every weekend. That makes me totally dorked out. By the way, I use Tide with Color Safe Bleach. I've hung out with the same guys for six years, without change.
I know all the jokes they crack before they consider cracking them. I know exactly what they will do in any given situation. Well, not exactly, but you get the point. Variety is the spice of life. I'm getting sick of Paprika. My friend says he is happy with who he is. He has good friends with whom he has amusing conversations. Unfortunately, that's not enough for me. Good conversations at lunch don't make weekend Internet surfing any more enjoyable.
I'm not just a dork; I'm a mean dork.
Whenever anyone who looks dumb walks by, I make fun of them. Anyone who is abnormally pale, ugly, or uses a backpack with wheels is subject to embarrassment. My cruelty is part of the reason I'm a dork. Very few girls like mean people. The only girls that like mean guys are mean girls, and nobody likes them. My friend doesn't worry as much about what other people think of him as I do. All that junk about ignoring what others think about you is, well, junk. I don't care what others think about laundry and the Internet. I know it's not cool.
My attitude is really not my problem.
My real problem is the NBC Saturday Night Thrillogy. That's right, Dark Skies, the Pretender, and some other dumb show. If I stay home on Saturday nights watching TV by myself, especially lame TV by myself, then I'm a loser. If I go over to a friend's house and sit in his basement playing poker with the same guys I eat lunch with, and talk about the same classic rock, and the same TV shows, just as we've done for the last six years, then I'm a dork.
In the end I am responsible for whether I am a dork.