I bought you a pair of shoes, a trumpet you can blow and a book of rules.

Kookiest Samurai Overspends Outlandishly

I don’t know whether I am quietly relieved or disheartened that I have the comfort of Jo’s randomly selected words to write about this week. Although the words make me moan and groan, it does kick me into gear and make me write, so I’m all for it. Having said that, I am going on holiday on Monday and so next week’s blog will have to be created out of my own brainspace once again; I’m just not sure my brain can cope. I promise here and now that I only mentioned my holiday because of the implications it may have on my blog. I won’t show off and go on about like an overexcited schoolchild/smug tw*t (delete as applicable.)

That’s enough preamble; onto the blog.

Looking back at my school years, it seems a little ironic that we were all so concerned about looking cool and individual and quirky, that we all wore the same clothes. Even on mufti days, we had a version of a uniform. Until about year 11 I can guarantee that on any mufti day, all of my friends would wear some form of chain attached to their jeans, a black hoody advertising the coolest/latest band and jeans that were so baggy, my mum half expected to see a stray paratrooper clinging on around my ankles. This would, of course, be completed with the attractive eyeliner and the vans trainers. I was never particularly cool or leading in the trends; my favourite hoody had ‘Phonics on it, my trainers were O’Neill and I couldn’t be bothered with all that makeup. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Stereophonics, Blink 182, Spunge, Nickelback and all that, but was I was never a true grunger – I just liked scruffy clothes. As teenagers, we are so worried about being an individual that we cling to one of any number of social stereotypes, which ensure that we never stand out in a crowd. When I moved schools, I remember having a conversation with one of the girls at my new school who was wearing two completely different trainers. When I asked her why, her response was “so that people think I’m mad.” At that moment, I felt like I had never known anyone less mad. Strangely, this moment made me realise that the most important thing was to be yourself and be proud of that; at least you are honest to yourself then and surely the most individual you can be?

All this idle memory bashing makes me question my “kooki-ness”. Am I the kookiest? Is that something I even want to be? Eccentric, quirky and individual? Well, it would be nice if people saw me that way, but I certainly won’t be trying to achieve those heady heights. As I type this, all I can hear is David Bowie’s Kooks:

“…Cause we believe in you, Soon you’ll grow so take a chance, With a couple of Kooks, Hung up on romancing.”

It’s a great song, which is now stuck on loop in my head. Anyway, with that plug over, I shall continue with the blog. As I was saying, I would like to think that I am individual and unique, but I definitely don’t want to be seen as an outlandish, attention seeking brat. It’s a fine line between being quirky and irritating, but people who throw their cash around and are outlandish show-off seem to be a long way from the line. It seems to be that the those people who attempt to be quirky and crazy seem to miss their target somewhat.

Now, I love spending time with fun loving, mad people where I feel totally with myself, so I can be mad and loud, without fear of judgement. It occurs to me that everyone has a kook inside them and equally, everyone has an introvert in them. It just needs different social occasions to bring it out of people. For a start, when I see old school friends, I become almost drunk and stupid with excitement; I personify the outlandish kook. Yet, with good friends who I see regularly, I can’t be bothered with that and I’m relaxed to the point of lazy with them. This sounds like a terrible thing, but they would kill me if I was a hyperactive, irritating little shit all of the time. Trust me, I would and I’m meant to be on my side.

Nowadays, I am confident about who I am (most of the time anyway) and I don’t consider myself to be an outlandish kook; to be honest, that’s all too much effort. Although, I am prone to overspending. This is the person who has more dvds than HMV and owns a black Wii because it was pretty (and £10 more expensive). Although, I have made quite a case for myself, I’m not sure that I am at the level of a Samurai; the Japanese Military nobility. I’m not sure I understand the term military nobility, but all the same, it seems very regal and only available for those who are mature, silent and deadly. Am I mature, silent or deadly? Ho hum. Considering that I’ve spent all evening on twitter in an attempt to avoid writing this and simultaneously making poor corpse gags, I suspect not. Oh well, better luck next time, at least I’m not an outlandish kook.


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