All my life I’d struggled with the internal conflict – do I want to be cool or classy? I would really love a septum piercing and some visible tattoos… but is that really my life?
However, today my dad sent me a really nice note in which he called me “cool” and I’m stoked. My dad actually is cool, borderline badass, he don’t give a expletive.
I screen shotted it and sent to my sister. She replied, that in fact, I am cool (so long as I’m not trying to be).
So my future has been decided. I should no longer strive for class because I dunno if that’s really all that attainable for me.
Luckily enough I have a kickass job where I’ll actually do better if I successfully convince people that both the product and I are awesome. I also gave up trying to be a classy, white, OC republican at my mother’s dinner parties long ago. I mean I’m still white. And the cherry on top – apparently when I show up hung overall hell to see my father, he finally thinks I’m a cool kid. Like him. So there’s no fighting this. I’m cool. As long as I don’t say it out loud. Ha.