Behold, The Coolness

Enough silliness.

Time to blog.

I've been pondering the idea of changing the name of my blog. How does Haynes Family Travelling Circus of Chaos roll off the tongue? What about Haynes Family Rowdy Towhead Parade? I feel like the ringmaster of a travelling circus slash towhead parade. But to call myself the ringmaster implies that I have some degree of control. This is most definitely not the case, which is evident whenever I shop for groceries.

DJ (bless his soul) works six days of the week, and unless I want to live off of ice cubes dipped in ketchup it behooveth me to shop for groceries. Shopping trips usually require the use of those humiliating limousine shopping carts with an orange car on the front. I hate them. It is impossible to feel cool bringing up the rear of one of those monsters. Naturally, my kids love them.

I'm finally coming to terms with my uncoolness (twenty-nine years later). It's been a long, nerdy road of self-discovery. I was especially uncool in middle school. I was the dorkiest of the dorks. I'm okay with that because, in hindsight, even the cool kids were total dorks. In fact, there are many things that were considered cool in middle school that I was too much of a geek to be involved with. Two specific things come to mind: 1. crimped hair and 2. Beverly Hills 90210.

[Before my sisters out me, I must admit to owning and wearing a 90210 t-shirt that had Jason "Brandon" Priestley on it. (I would've preferred the Luke "Dylan" Perry t-shirt but the store was all out. Ah, the fickle tastes of a tween...) That was the full extent of my involvement.]

Behold, the coolness. I think I've seen every one of those outfits at the D.I. This leads me to my next point.

The harder I try to be cool, the dorkier I am. See those jeans? Those are Girbaud jeans. They had a little white tag right on the fly, that's how come they were worth sixty dollars. (My parents are better to me than I deserve.) I wanted with all of my 11-year-old heart to have voluminous bangs like the cool girls (coughMONNA!cough). I squirted and squirted them with Rave Super Duper Maximum Hold Hairspray. I couldn't pull it off. (Clearly, the problem was in the asymmetry. I see that now, eighteen years later.) The bolo tie certainly didn't help my cause. Aaaannyway...

I'm done. I'm not even going to try to be cool anymore. It never works out. It's expensive, impractical, and when you take the Rave into account, bad for the environment.

What brought all this on, you ask?

I don't know.

Maybe finding this on my camera.