While watching South African Idols with my mom this past Sunday (yes, at 27, I still go for Sunday takeout and reality TV sessions with my parents), I was flicking through Facebook and came across this piece by Rosie Waterland the references the epic scene in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl where Amy describes ‘the Cool Girl’, the ‘male fantasy’ of ‘the perfect girlfriend’ if you will.
Men always say that as the defining compliment, don’t they? She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.
And, just like Rosie, just like Amy, I am not the cool girlfriend. I’m really, just not cool. And you know, I don’t even care anymore and I’m tired of pretending that I am – or can be. I can’t and I won’t.
1. I’m not cool because I think getting drunk is stupid
I can’t remember the last time I was tipsy, let alone drunk. Yes, I had my fair share of drunken nights (all over 18, because I’m a Type A personality, bitches). But I outgrew that so many years ago I can’t even remember when last I did shots or even got tipsy. I enjoy a few glasses of wine, I enjoy a beer or two, I enjoy a G&T (double, please), but I’m never inebriated. I find drunk people, for the most part, to be boring, annoying and off-putting.
So I’m not going to be the cool girlfriend who’s fine with you going out and chugging beer and messaging me when you’re intoxicated. I’m not going to be doing shooters at the bar at 1am, I won’t even be in a bar at 10pm. I’ll be in bed.
2. I’m not cool because I think all drugs are awful
Smoke a joint occasionally? Your choice. Do shrooms to get your groove on when you go to trance parties? Go ahead. Like a little E or MDMA to party on? Be my guest.
Just don’t expect to be in my life.
I don’t care if alcohol kills more people than weed does. I don’t care if you grew your own shrooms or only do coke ‘occasionally’. I don’t like drugs and I don’t like people who do drugs.
3. I’m not cool because I’m not okay with being the driver
Honesty: I’ve never dated a guy who could drive. One of my exes got his licence close to the end of us dating and picked me up a handful of times. Other than that: I’ve never dated a guy who drove me places, picked me up and took me on dates, drove over in the middle of the night when I was sad. I’ve been designated dave for a lot of my friends over the years being one of the first in my friendship circles to get my licence (Type A personality, remember?). And it somehow spilled into my dating life.
And I’m not okay with it. I want to be picked up. I want to be wooed. I want to be treated like a fucking lady. I’ll drive you around too, boo. But man, I want to be picked up and taken on a date.
4. I’m not cool because I put my career first
My work is important to me. Sure, I occasionally write about dog food or spend most of my days writing about where to buy the best cake or how to plan your wedding in 10 Easy Steps. Sure, I’m hardly saving the world. Sure, I could be doing a lot more worthwhile things. But I’m not. I’m doing this. And this is important to me. And I won’t put my career in the back-seat so a boyfriend’s can take priority. No. Not ever. Not once.
Nor will I move across the country or globe if it’s good for his career but not mine.
My job may seem ‘small’ or ‘silly’ to you. But I’ve been mocked by enough people when I worked at a teen pop culture mag to know how to snap back. And not care.
5. I’m not cool because I’m not sorry about my feelings
I can be an emotional mess. I’m hot and I’m cold. Like a line from one of my favourite Matchbox20 songs goes
How you make your face just like a wall
How you take your heart and turn it off
And that’s me. I shut down emotionally on people quickly and unflinchingly. I roll up into a porcupine ball and don’t you dare come any closer. Then I can be emotionally needy and devastatingly insecure about your feelings for me. I can be cry-on-the-floor-for-an-hour sad. I can be so happy I’m bouncing off the walls because it’s a Saturday and it’s sunny outside and I get to take my trail walk.
But I’m not sorry I’m like this.
I’m not going to apologise for wearing my emotions all over me and getting them all over everything. It’s me. It’s how I am. It’s how I’m built. And I’m not going to be sorry.
And it feels good to acknowledge I’m not the cool girl, even if I drink beer and enjoy the occasional computer game or am in love with Supernatural.
I’m not cool.
And I’m tired of trying to be cool.
img: 500 Hundred Days of Summer from somewhere on the interwebs