I should really go to Bloggers Anonymous. This is my millionth blog. I’ve got a problem with making a blog, not really focusing on what I need to say, using it like more of a diary, and then deleting it. Knowing that I’m a decent writer, and having this jumble of blogs really makes it difficult to pick a blog title, pick a theme, and stick with it. So, because of this, I’ve decided that I’m just going to start anew, and blog here; blog about internal matters, external matters, matters of the heart, politics, what I ate for dinner. Really, I figure it’s my blog, I’ll do as I please. If I deviate from the point, well…that’s what I was sent here to do. Maybe I’ll find something specifically blog-worthy that the blogosphere hasn’t got covered- like… “Conversations I hear in men’s toilets about Sarah Palin”… if…I were often in a men’s toilet, that might work. But, I’ve not got the correct plumbing for that.
Anyway… I’ll go through the “Hi, my name is” paragraph, so we can be done with it.
I am Jessica. 21 years old. College student. Husband in the Navy. Married way too early. Was raised by a single mother who drank a lot. Younger sister is alreayd married and pregnant. Typical redblooded American southerner. Went to a public school from K-12. Graduated with a B average….weighted…haha. Average looking, average bank account.
So, in reality, there shouldn’t be a reason anyone might want to read this blog. I’m the typical ho-hum American garden variety basket case. Except, I come with accessories.
I’m smarter than you. Yep, that’s right. I’m an underachiever, but I’m a braniac. It’s the internet, and I figure I’ve been spending years getting red in the face at it’s mention, but here’s a place I can be boastful without the guilty Catholic shame that comes from being a braggart. Growing up, you want people to tell you they think you’re pretty- not “really f***ing smart”. You want guys to be your partner in class because they’d like to date you- not copy all of your work. I tested out at a genius level on my IQ test as a kid, and for years, my mother refused to tell me. I hid from “regular” kids in gifted class until I was fourteen. I was in the same honors and AP classes with most of the same kids I had gone to school with since elementary school. Sheltered by virtue of my intelligence.
I may have tattoos and listen to hardcore; I may have been in more fistfights than I can recount; but, deep down inside, I’m pushing my non-exististent glasses up the bridge of my nose, and pondering the finer points of kierkegaard. In fact, I’m almost certain that the external toughness and willingness to throw down at a moments notice- developed from having to defend myself BECAUSE I was a nerd.
I am a nerd. It took me four paragraphs to get that out, but there you are, folks. I am a nerd. I like books on foreign language grammar. I like to read poetry. I listen to Ben Gibbard (don’t tell all my cool friends this). I drive two and a half hours into the country to get raw milk and local eggs because I think its the “right thing to do.” I’m abnormal. But, that makes good blog fodder (I hope.)
After years of repressing it/ hiding it/ pretending I was indeed really fucking cool…I’ve come to terms with it. There is no way to hide it. And, half of Europe is just like me. So- I’m letting it out.
Hail all nerds. Everywhere.
