The Disadvantages of Being a Sarcastic Wallflower

I'm starting to think that maybe I'm just misunderstood everywhere. I thought it was regional, an east coast anomaly, that my sarcastic humor and quiet nature weren't appreciated. But I may have been mistaken as the left coast is struggling to catch my drift as well.

Sarcasm isn't my crutch to ward off potential friends or relationships; it's how I've always gotten around. My mom tells me I have the same humor as her father who died when I was 7 months old. He was adored for his dry comments and deadpan demeanor. "He's Irish," they'd say, giving him a strange ethnic-based validity that I rarely receive. The most commonly used explanation for my personality is, "She's a bitch." 

I've been described as an enigma many times throughout my life. I'm not overly-reactive; I don't always have something to say; I'm an observer and a thinker and a processor. I used to revel in my perplexing prowess. It made me feel unique and mysterious. These days, it just makes me feel alone.