not really the cool kid

what i am about to say is probably going to come as a shocker to most of you (actually all of you except my younger sister and anyone who really knows me lol)...i'm really not that cool. i know, i know, i know! this is very hard to believe and you might actually challenge me on that statement but trust me i'm really

not

that cool. i'm like an optical illusion...on the surface, first glance: cool kid! after you look a little deeper and actually interact with me: biggest dork! i don't know how i made it this far fooling people, actually i never fooled anyone it's like my homegirl marilyn monroe said

 i really think it's because i know how to make fun of myself that the cool kids accept me; i don't pretend to be cool i just laugh about not being cool and how horrible i am at "cool things". i kind of just poke fun at "fake it til you make it" and because i have a good time doing it people can't do anything but love it or deal with it lol.

for example:

in grade school the "topsy tail" was the coolest thing ever! it's the first "as seen on tv" that i remember being relevant to my life. my parents claimed they couldn't afford the $12.95 ($3.95 S&H) so no "topsy tail" for me

or

 free gift with purchase (the complete book of topsy tail styles). i was so upset! i so badly wanted the topsy tail, i wanted to be cool! but my parents weren't going to let our finiancial situation get it the way, so they made it work! no, they didn't scrape their pennies together to buy me the "topsy tail"; my father found a wire hanger and duck tape and

made his own topsy tail.

yup! you read correctly my pops unwound a metal hanger (you know the kind from the dry cleaners minus the paper that reads "we <3 our customers") then bent it and formed it to the "topsy tail" shape then duck taped it in place! and

vuala

 (or however you spell that) there it was my very own "topsy tail". i might have lost a good pound of hair during the "topsy tail" era but guess what i had cool kid hair!

in junior high i was super undeveloped compared to the rest of the 13 year old girls in my class: 

i never kissed a boy (or girl, get your mind out the gutter) and i some how managed to escape the fate of spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven (mainly because my parents never let me go to parties, but regardless)

i never wore a bra (only because i didn't fit in one, still barely do) and i some how managed to escape the fate of getting stuck in front of a bra snapping 13 year old boy in class

i didn't have my period so i had to do my best to not look too awkward during awful period horror story sharing time  

in high school my parents couldn't afford to buy me the coolest sneakers or shoes, i'm starting to think that was their go to excuse for everything i wanted. the sneaker issue ended up working itself out because i played varsity basketball all 4 years of high school (which earned me some cool points, not to mention i was a starter all 4 years, and the only white girl on the team "oh yeah go me"! ) and being on the team meant team sneakers so i was covered in that department. now as far as shoes went i didn't have the same luck. i went to an all girls catholic high school so we had uniforms that we had to wear every single day, the only thing not included in the uniform were our shoes so go figure bitches had to go all out and compete for the best shoes. the cool shoe when i was in high school was a burgundy mary jane from aldo ($70) guess what my parents told me "we can't afford that" so where did i end up?? yup! payless! but guess what payless had the same exact shoe, just a shade or two off no biggie because to me it was the look that was important not the name (my future husband better not read that and get ideas of slacking on my ring because i have that mind set dammit). so i get to school super excited that i have a cool pair of shoes and bitches went and questioned me!! not in a bad way just genuinely confused like they didn't see the color i had at aldo so i bit the bullet and admitted they were from payless and to make light of the situation i purchased a pair of insoles from the 99 cents store and took a sharpie from home and wrote "aldo" on them and put them in my shoe, it was the joke of the year at school! 

now in my adult life not having cable and internet (you already know that story) is really taking a toll on my cool level. the freaking internet is flooded with all these youtube sensations that are a serious part of our culture now. everything from news interviews ("ain't nobody got time for that", "hide yo kids", "i knew something was wrong when a pretty little white girl ran into the arms of a black man") to child sensations (the 2 year old who doesn't miss a basketball shot, the little english girls that know every nikii minaj song), and most importantly in my life the dance crazes! i can't go anywhere without being surrounded by the latest dance: a night out with my girls, a silly night in with my little sister and her friends, shit i can't even go to a bbq!  which brings me to the point of this post (funny the "point of my post" is always like 10 paragraphs after the title haha) last week i went to a bbq (sounds innocent enough) until the music starts playing. the beat dropped and lord have mercy did the asses shake, these girls had moves. but it was like they weren't even aware that they were moving, it was as if the asses had a mind of their own, it was really like magic! before i could get caught gawking i asked the cool girls at the bbq what it was they were doing and in unison they sang "tweeerking" what?! twerking!? what is this thing called twerk?!? i want to twerk!! see twerking isn't like the other cool kid obstacles i had come across in my life, twerking i couldn't fake, i was clueless! but guess what the cool kids were like angels from heaven and they took me under their wings and gave me

"how to twerk"

lessons! i will be spending my summer learning to express myself (please refer to my video from the post before this one). 

please note this was only a 30 minute lesson, do not contact me about twerk competitions (yet)

ox 

jacqueline solivan