There's always been a part of me that was aware that I bask on the outer edges of Nerdvana. I mean, there have been clues: I read a lot, I can wax eloquent on most subjects (except Math... Math and I have been feuding since Algebra), and I begin wayyyy to many sentences with the word "Actually..."
But I've always managed to counter-act the obvious by being kind of ditzy, a tad bit shallow, and by having a penchant for saying/doing stupid things. (Plus I fall down. A lot.) As my darling 16 year old nephew pointed out once while watching The Big Bang Theory, "Aunt Dani, you're like a cross between Bernadette and Penny."
(I didn't ask him to clarify because let's face it, I don't really want to know.)
Lately, however, it's become glaringly more obvious that I may be more of a nerd than I've given myself credit for. (I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying it came as something of a shock to me. That's all. Do not herd your nerds and send me hate mail, please. I AM ONE OF YOU. I AM YOUR QUEEN.)
In fact, I may not just be the President... I AM ALSO A MEMBER.
(Hair Club For Men... remember that? No? Just me? Never mind, then. Okay fine, I'll explain: Hair Club For Men was an organization that made fake hair for men. The spokesperson would show videos of men with full heads of fake hair hiking, biking, and having fun without their wig flying off. And at the end of the commercial he would say, "I'm not just the President, I'm also a member!" and would show a before and after picture of his shiny bald head which is now covered with fur. True story. And yes, it was much funnier in my head. Screw you.)
I HATE IT WHEN I LOSE MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT.
So anyway, how 'bout them Niners!!!
I've always considered myself a reasonably smart girl. I mean, I know most of the words, I can coherently express myself, I can comprehend information and use it accordingly. I know how to tie my shoes and rarely leave the house without my pants on. All good signs, yes? I got good grades in school when I applied myself, good grades even when I didn't apply myself, not so good grades when I didn't give a damn or make any effort whatsoever (hello, Algebra... my old nemesis!!). In fact, my Freshman year in high school, after I had knowingly and with malice aforethought not turned in one single piece of math homework and quite stunningly earned myself a big fat F, my Algebra teacher Mr. Groll, or something like that (he looked like Oscar Madison. If you don't know who that is, google it. I already feel old ever since you didn't get the Hair Club For Men reference) kept me after class and said, "I'm giving you a C. You didn't earn it, but if you had bothered to try, you would have. Plus I don't want to deal with you again."
I think I've been led astray by the Nerd Myth, whereas Nerd Girls wear glasses, no make-up, are poor dressers and socially awkward. I'm usually not any of those things. My nerdishness is more subtle, less in your face. It's more of a state of mind.
A Nerd state of mind...
I am freakishly addicted to Discovery ID. I know everything there is to know about serial killers, but were afraid to ask. I read about them, I watch shows about them, I google them and research them. My husband is afraid of me, as well he should be.
I know how to hide the body.
I love playing Sudoku. Love it. The harder the puzzle, the happier I am. When I recently discovered Sum-duko (you find the number placement in the puzzle by solving the sum... omg, heaven!!!) I totally forgot to blog for like four months because I was too busy solving all the puzzles in my Sum-duko book. Don't bother me... I'm Sum-duko-ing! I also may or may not get something of a charge out of the fact that I am exercising my brain. My brain is Jack Freaking Lalanne.
I kick ass at Jeopardy and scream "BOOYAHHHH!" when I get one right that none of the contestants knew. I also may or may not perform a victory dance when I am the only one who gets Final Jeopardy. And I think Alex Trebek is a douche.
When I was a nerdy little girl, going to the library was my absolute favorite thing to do. I could read at a level way above my age and would check out books from the science and research section. One summer, when I was around 8, I took it upon myself to study dog breeds all summer. 42 years later, I can still recognize any dog breed, tell you their AKC standard height, weight, coloring, and temperament. I even went further than that and studied where the breed originated, what they were originally bred for, and what their health and longevity is. When I was 8, you guys. 8. What freaking 8 year old spends a summer doing that? A nerdy 8 year old, that's who.
I was Brick from The Middle. Without the whispering. Oh my God.
I could go on for days but I'm starting to get embarrassed. What brought all this to the forefront of my Nerd Acceptance was a Trivial Pursuit game that took place Friday night. (The fact that I was playing Trivial Pursuit on a Friday night may also be a clue. Hmmm.)
One of the questions that I got was "What was the name of the Landlord's black eyed daughter in Alfred Noyes' epic poem, The Highwayman?"
Me: "Oh, hang on... let me see. Bess. Her name was Bess. She died for her love in the moonlight."
Dan: "How the fuck do you know that?"
Me: "I dunno... doesn't everyone?"
Dan: "No, Dani. Not everyone knows that. In fact, NO one knows that. You are such a NERD."
Because I not only knew that, I can recite the whole friggin' poem.
And I have no idea why.
That's when it hit me: Soooo many times I will blurt out trivial facts and information that literally no one cares about and someone will say, "How do you know that?"
And I never know how I know that.
I just... do.
Welcome to Nerdvana.
You can never leave.
Ugh... now I have Hotel California stuck in my head.