I’m a Dork

10 Reasons I’m a dork:

1. I laugh at everything. Especially when I’m nervous. Especially at body functions. Everything is funny to me. You’d think that with 3 brothers and a sister with a gas problem, I could be a little more blase’ about burping and farting… but no. No, all you have to do to make me laugh uncontrollably is fart around me. Burping is a little less laugh-inducing, but it still does make me giggle.

2. I doodle on everything. If I’m “taking notes” during church, you can pretty much bet that what I’m actually doing is drawing my name in fancy fonts, designing a wedding gown (despite the fact that I’ve never had a boyfriend), trying to figure out how to draw a hoodie or feet (two things that continue to elude my efforts to draw them), or just making swirls and flowers and leaves. Luckily, I don’t get in trouble for this anymore, because I can’t turn it off.

3. I don’t know how to behave if I don’t have pockets. I feel nervous and unsettled… I don’t know what to do with my hands. So I just leave wherever I am, and put on a hoodie. Summer is the worst… no hoodies, because it’s too freaking hot.

4. I wear underwear that matches my clothing, though no one will see it. Same with socks.

5. My closet is color coordinated… and I agonize about where each shade of each color goes. I have it organized from light to dark, but sometimes it’s hard to tell where it goes. Like, if it’s bright green, but a more intense shade, does it go with the light colors or the dark? I don’t know, and sometimes I end up moving stuff around or just trying to hide it somewhere else.

6. I once answered a quiz question this way:
Q: Would you rather be a bird or a fish?
A: Fish are gross. But so are birds. I’d rather be really really ridiculously good-looking. Is that shallow?

7. When I was little, I hated my name, because I was paranoid that people were going to think I was a boy (there are so NOT that many males named Brooke, but someone told me at some point that it could be a boy name too, and after that I knew in my eight-year-old heart that everyone I knew was going to think I was a boy. And boys = yuck). So I conceived a brilliant plan: The day I turned eighteen (because I knew my parents would never go for it), I was going to change my name to Aquamarina. You know, because that’s so much better than Brooke. But until then, I would sign my name “Brooke (a girl).” Which I did faithfully until I was probably 11 or 12.

8. It took being robbed and starting over with a new checking account for me to finally start keeping track of my checkbook. How irresponsible is that? I kept meaning to, but I didn’t really know where to start, so I just didn’t. But now I know exactly how much is in there, and I feel a little more grown-up.

9. I hate curtains. And miniblinds. I’ve had the same long piece of fabric draped over a curtain rod on my window for a period of time spanning over 4 years and two houses. It’s not quite big enough for my room here at my parents’ house, but I can’t bring myself to put anything else up there, because curtains are so overrated. And don’t even get me started on miniblinds.

10. I speak “roommate” fluently. “What is this “roommate” of which you speak?” you may ask. It’s basically just English, only with all the vowels replaced with an “er” sound. Ser ert sernds lerk thers. Ert’s erserer ter erndersternd whern ert’s sperkern thern whern ert’s terped, ther.