If you know me, this doesn’t come as a surprise to you. If you don’t, then you should consider yourself lucky to not have to witness the atrocity that is my awkwardness. The problem with me being awkward is that, as an extrovert, I don’t hide it well. I show my weirdness to all who shall see it.
And what makes me awkward?
Because I laugh at my own jokes.
…and I also get too excited and snort sometimes, which basically makes me the hottest person on the planet. Most people don’t think I’m that funny, but that’s ok, because I got my back. I will always cackle at your horrible puns, girl.
There are many words that define me, but graceful is not one of them.
I have several unexplained bruises on my person at all times. I run into walls, fall off couches, and trip over air. I can fall going up the stairs, and that makes me pretty freaking talented. Not saying that I can’t rock a pair of heels and a sassy walk with the best of them, but that only equates to about 2% of my life. The other 98% is spent trying not to flail around aimlessly.
I dance(poorly) around on a whim.
Sometimes I just get excited, or become consumed with a wave of happiness. So I dance. Generally it’s just an awkward shoulder roll and finger snapping, but on special occasions, like when I realize that I still have pizza when I thought I ate it all, I break out all the weird. I envy the people who get to witness this, because I’m sure it looks even funnier from someone else’s perspective.
I never know what to do with my hands.
Cuddling turns into having T-rex arms. And when I’m excited or distressed, I literally just shake my arms and hands around like I’m trying to ward off a swarm of mosquitos. I do the “are we going to shake-hands or hug” dance more often than I’m proud of. But, when in doubt, jazz hand it out.
I have no shame in my nerd game.
90% of the conversations I have will contain some form of reference to a film, TV show or book that I’m obsessed with. So if you don’t like How I Met Your Mother, Lord of the Rings or old American literature, you might want to avoid me like the plague.
I am the messiest eater alive.
If you ever catch me without food on my clothes, consider that a monumental moment. I think I’m the only person who can produce crumbs from just drinking water…True Story…ok, maybe not, but you catch my drift.
Most of my thoughts are followed by me thinking, “Who even thinks that?”
But then I realize my crazy ideas are genius. I mean, when are socks for puppies ever a bad idea? Although you probably shouldn’t ask me what I think about when I am trying to ward off laughing… Only one person knows this, and I’m sure they judge hardcore.
I break out into song way too often.
One small expression will remind me of a random song, which I will proceed to sing very poorly, very loudly. Halfway through the workday? Que Bon Jovi. Long drive ahead? 500 miles by the Proclaimers is a go to. I also make mixed CDs of my life soundtracks because I’m stuck in my youth, and I still think mixed CDs are a good idea to give boys.
My facial expressions are generally anything but attractive.
Derping has become a talent. Bless you if you have to witness me when I get stressed or startled–because the awkward muddled face is also accompanied by an even more atrocious squeal or yell.
“You’re something” is a common term to describe me.
Not funny, cute, or awesome. Something…I guess people just can’t put their finger on what exactly I am–In which I reply, “I think the term you are searching for is Bad Ass.”…subsequently making the conversation even more awkward, because it is generally accompanied by a poorly executed wink.
But sorry not sorry. I don’t think I could hide it if I tried. My friends apparently dig the awkwardness (or at least they spare my feelings). Plus, it’s how I get all my suitors. Who needs cleverness and curves when I can just attract people with my weirdness? Because boys like girls who spill their food and can’t walk a straight line right? Seriously though, moral of the story, kids, embrace your awkwardness.