A Dorky Dissection of "Cool" (and a few pointers)

They can teach you every equation in the book, every date for historical events, and every part of speech, but the truth is, teachers can't teach you how to be cool.

I'm not talking about being "popular" or "with the times." I'm talking about being collected, your movements graceful and natural, being "on top of things," if you will. High school is all about making yourself look good--not only to the opposite sex [juvenile giggle] but also to your teachers and administrators so they'll 1) let things slide if you do get in trouble and 2) not mess with you because you're confident.

If you give off an air of being calm and collected, soon you can become it. You can be confident just by pretending to be. We teenagers try our hardest to make everything look easy for us [and so do you adults, I've noticed]. We just want to look good.

And nothing ruins a look like making an awkward move in public.

You all know what I'm talking about. There are times in life when you suddenly feeling awkward, unbalanced, off-step... Like after running into a door. You're pretty embarrassed [whether you'll admit it or not] and you have to somehow cope.

Teachers can't teach you how be cool and collected enough to handle such humiliating situations. However, as someone who strives for grace and confidence, I've developed a few pointers [along with some help from my faithful friends].

Let's start with the basics, simple maneuvers like the Casual Recovery After Pole/Door. Yes, I'm aware that the acronym is CRAPD. But considering that the words in one's head after such a collision may somewhat resemble "crap" [or other words] I felt it necessary to leave it be.

The Situation: You're walking through a crowded hallway, students pouring at you from every direction. You think you hear someone call your name, so you turn to look.

And you run face-first into a pole. Or a door.

Naturally, it hurts. You just smashed your nose into a stationary object. But you cannot let your peers know this--you have to be cool. There are three options for a reaction that fall under the category of "cool":

1) Cough loudly and make it look like you're sick. Nobody will bother you if you look delusional from a terrible head cold. Not only because they feel bad, but also because they don't want to be anywhere near you to catch what you've got.

2) Turn around sharply and glare at whoever's behind you, laying the blame on them without saying a word. Of course, you may feel bad that you just blamed an innocent bystander for your stupid accident, but there's not time for remorse. If you get lucky, you'll be standing in front of someone you don't know, and they'll forget all about it in no time. If you get lucky.

3) Just keep walking, pretending as if nothing happened. Chances are, everyone around you wasn't paying attention anyway, so your blunder went unnoticed. Of course, if someone asks you about it later, laugh hard and make fun of yourself momentarily. But not for too long--confidence doesn't dwell on past mistakes.

See? Easy. But that's the easiest one.

We now move on to Casual Turn-Around, Mid-Hallway. No clever acronym for this one, but it is considerably vital if you want to look collected.

The Situation: You're heading down yet another hallway when you suddenly realize you're going the wrong way. Time before the next bell is running out, and though you could make it to your next class on time, you'd have to turn around right now.

Of course, you're surrounded by people. And these people are like salmon, all moving in one direction and only one direction, completely unforgiving to anyone who tries to go the other way.

If you turn around, they're going to notice. And SOMEONE is going to laugh.

So what do you do? Well, start with a shocked look. Let this false look of realization spread across your face and make your eyes wide, as if you'd never made such a mistake before. Turn abruptly and cry "Oh!" as if something going on behind you is terribly interesting and you wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

Now comes the tricky part: the walking run. You want to appear to be moving fast, returning to that "interesting" subject behind you, but you don't want to be going too fast or you'll look, well, stupid. So you get going in that little walking run, moving just below the speed of a jog with an intense look of concentration plastered on your face.

Turn-around complete. Mission over. Congratulations, you've survived a very dangerous situation.

Those two moves, the CRAPD and Casual Turn-Around may seem simple, almost stupidly easy. But you'd be surprised how many times in one day I see someone look like an oaf just because they didn't remember the rules of cool. The rules of confidence. The rules that guide all human beings to looking graceful [even if they're really not].

There is one last technique, one that took me a great deal of time to master. It is the most difficult yet, the one that I struggled with the most, and now I pass it on to you.

Bus riding.

If you've never experienced a school bus first-hand, let me give you a brief synopsis. Bus drivers never start out slow; it's always pedal to the metal within half a second of the light turning green. There are also no speed limits for buses; if you can get it to go 70, that's your limit. I know it sounds unbelievable, but trust me. They can go 70.

The drivers also tend to not apply the brake when turning. You see, it's faster [and also quite life-threatening] to simply plow through the turns and hit a few curbs rather than hit that untouched brake pedal. So that's what they do. They fly. And if you've ever been in a bus when it's coasting on two wheels, you can understand my fear.

So you're trapped in an enormous yellow rectangle, traveling down a busy suburban street, going around 60 and not braking on turns. There are no seat belts, and the seats are barely wide enough for two people and books and the usual backpack to sit.

What do you do?

Unless you can instantly grow a third arm, the following precautions must be taken to avoid falling out of your seat, dropping your books or belongings on the floor, or even on occasion flying around the bus.

1) Both feet on the floor, absorbing the turns. Use your legs to keep your books on your lap balanced while turning. If you turn left, incline your heel and raise your left leg slightly; do the opposite for the right. Though the bus is now on a severe angle, your books/other items will not be tempted by gravity to fall.

2) One hand always at the ready in front of your face. At the slightest sign of body shifting, quickly move your hand forward and plant it into the seatback in front of you. Avoid the sections of the seat that are spongy--you'll fall anyway. Look for non-caving seat portions and make sure you push your hand forward with all your strength. Of course, this exercise may hurt in the beginning, as your arm and shoulder aren't used to the intense pressure, but it's a worthwhile measure. It's saved my life a few times, I can promise you that.

3) Keep your spare hand firmly attached to any belongings that don't lie flat as books do, like iPods, water bottles, or lunches. You don't want to lose these, either; once it's gone, it's gone. And there's nothing you can do to rescue your lost items, unless your driver finds them and offers them to the general bus-riding public. Then you can fight for them, I suppose.

4) If you're riding on the aisle, you get an extra task. Though your feet/legs are responsible for keeping your books aligned with the earth, your leg closest to the aisle must also keep its respective half of your body on the seat. On the seat in front of you, there should be a pole near the aisle, holding the seat up. Balance your foot against this pole and hope to God that your shoes aren't slippery, or else you'll be spending the majority of the ride on the floor. Joy.

So those techniques may save you on the bus. Be prepared for unexpected moves--bus drivers are known for those. Tricky little buggers...

I love watching adults on school buses. It's like they forget how to use their limbs, and they fall all over the place. Don't be one of those adults. Save yourself now, and learn to be cool.

Cool. A trait strived for by many, including myself. The only way to achieve such "coolness" is to be confident and collected, graceful and strong in your movements while at the same time appearing to be doing everything with ease. It's a hard task, but I'm sure the world is up to it.

Maybe some time later this month I'll cover the art of Stablizing Hold of In-arm Things. Let's not even begin to discuss the acronym of that one.

Oh, and if this is sounding a lot like common sense... You're right. It is. So explain to me why I see so many people looking like idiots on a daily basis.

...Abbs is [a dork, and] OUT.