Howdy all. I’m back and ready to delight you with more stories of my dorkdome. That’s right. You heard me. I’m a dork and I’m proud of it. I don't run from my inner dork. I embrace it. Hell, sometimes I even bear hug it.
If I had to take a stab in the dark, I would suspect many of you are dorks as well. Probably closet dorks, but dorks none the less. Closet nerds, closet geeks, closet freaks, closet weirdoes. Listen, I’m all about self expression, so you can call yourself whatever you want, but deep down inside your nerdy little heart, you know who you are. You should also know there really is no reason to be ashamed anymore.
Think about it. There are plenty of successful, happy, well-adjusted dorky role models out there. For instance, our President (a.k.a. The-most-powerful-man-in-the-world) is a big dork. Then there’s the founder of Microsoft, Mr. Bill Gates. I don’t know about you, but I’d love to borrow his AmEx for the day. Also, we don’t want to forget about our sister population, so let’s put our hands together in a big round of applause for Natalie Portman. Famous actress, stunningly beautiful, also Harvard educated, I might add. And did I mention that she shot to stardom by playing Queen Amidala in Star Wars? When Hayden Panettiere is not acting, she is frequenting video game launch parties. Not too shabby. Even Colin Greenwood from Radiohead graduated from Cambridge and still lives in Oxford to this day. Don’t leave me high/don’t leave me dry… Sorry, got a little carried away there for a nanosecond.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that dorky is in. Gone are the days of Steve Urkel and Screech. Gone, I tell you, gone. Dork is now spelled H-O-T.
So, unite with me, my nerdy brethren! I call upon you to say it loud and say it proud! We are dorks and we will be counted! We expect the same rights and privileges as everyone else. (This includes a cute date on the weekend.)
Not ready to declare your dorkdome yet? How about this? I’ll go first. Below, I have shared a “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist with ten nerdy actions. If you are culpable of six or more items, it’s likely that your dorky tendencies may actually be a lifestyle. But it is all right. You’re in good company. I’m guilty of every item on this list and I’m still confident enough to look myself in the mirror each day. In fact, I’d say that I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me! So go ahead, print this out and pull out the writing utensil of your choice (chances are you’ve probably already got a few nearby in your pocket protector) and check off the items that resonate with you. Seriously, go ahead and do it. I mean, really, you’re reading my blog right now. What else do you have to do?
Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?
_____ I have read the entire Harry Potter series. (Add an extra point if you lost sleep or wept when you learned of Dumbledore’s fate.)
_____ When my parents sent me to my room as a child, I secretly didn’t mind because I could read books, play video games, conduct science experiments, and/or finish my homework.
_____ If my house were to catch fire, I would evacuate only after securing the safety of my computer.
_____ I know what E=mc2 means.
_____ I enjoy learning. Maybe that’s an understatement. I love to learn. I dig school, training, museums, documentaries, anything with new information. (You score an extra point if you have letters before or after your name.)
_____ I have seventh grade humor. Not sure on this one? Does the word, “uvula” make you laugh? How about the planet, “Uranus?” If so, put a big dorky check in the box.
_____ I lack game. Athletic game, verbal game, dating game, and the list goes on…
_____ I think there is NOTHING more attractive than watching someone read a newspaper. Brains are uber sexy. Heads are more than hat racks.
_____ I am no slave to fashion. I think the best fashion accessory is a good pair of reading glasses and I have been known to wear black shoes with a brown belt. (Add a bonus point if you’ve had your current hair style longer than your current job.)
_____ When I watch The Big Bang Theory, I identify with Leonard and Sheldon. Not everyone can be a Penny.
It’s time to tally. How did you do?
Six or more? Fan-freaking-tastic! That secures your spot as a winner in my book!
Five or less? I’m sorry to inform you that you are a wiener. A certified wiener. And yes, the word “wiener” does makes me laugh…
Meow, Kat
P.S. The “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist also doubles as reasons #34-43 why I am single.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Why I Am Single - Reason #114
Hello Blogosphere. Single Kat here. Today I am taking a big step. I am kicking non-blogger Katherine to the curb and embracing the new and improved blogger Kat. It’s kinda’ like I’m losing my blog virginity. If you’re reading this, consider yourself my first. As my first, you now have the solemn responsibility to do right by me. By all means, be gentle and please read to the end.
So, how was this blog born? Peer pressure was a factor. (All the cool kids were doing it.) Plus, there was a visit to a psychic a few years back that foretold of my blogging potential. (More on that later.) Mostly, there was an incident that occurred at Edventure, which coincidentally is also the 114th reason I am still single at the spring chicken age of 30.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the metropolis of Columbia, we have a children’s museum called Edventure. (Catchy title, right? Kudos to their Marketing team.) For those of you who aren’t familiar with me, I’m the single mom of a four year old superhero. As you all know, superheroes have ample energy to burn, so I spend a fair amount of time (okay, my whole life) at the park, the zoo, birthday parties (the dry variety), and the ever popular Edventure. Hmmm… maybe my choice of weekend venue is the 115th reason I’m still single? Anyway, I digress. Back to the birth of this blog tale…
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at Edventure with Superman. We were accompanied by my friend and her son. We’ll call them Emma and Batman. So, Emma is married and Batman is normal. As such, they were quietly ice fishing in the “Let It Snow” exhibit. Superman and I were busy trying to make a break for the North Pole when out of the corner of our eyes, we simultaneously spot a shiny, flashy, perfect snowmobile. Now this isn’t just any snowmobile, it is tricked out with sound effects fit for a kid king and some seriously sweet swivel action. This snowmobile also happens to be nestled into a winter wonderland scene complete with snow of course and surrounded by big fake pine trees. Naturally, the only rational course of action is to sprint over to the snowmobile, which we did in short measure. (Marion Jones had nothing on us, even with her performance “enhancers.”) On a side note, if you’re reading this and we knocked over your toddler or small child in our reckless abandon, I do apologize.
While we were booking it to the snowmobile, I suddenly realize that this looks just like the getaway forest scene from Return of the Jedi. At that moment, I AM Princess Leia and Superman IS Luke Skywalker. I’m sporting double hair buns and Superman is packing a light saber. We are siblings and one day, we will rule this galaxy far, far away. For now, we have to contend with those damn pesky storm troopers. We are fortunate to have the Ewoks at our disposal, but as much as the little guys want to help, they look like overgrown teddy bears, so Luke and I are clearly going to have to rely on our own cunning bravado. There’s no time for hesitation, so we hop on board and I immediately take control of navigation as my arms are longer and I can best manipulate the steering wheel. Luke instinctively takes over our defense and begins to shoot the storm troopers. At this point, the snowmobile is bouncing back and forth, the sound effects are in full swing, and Luke and I are hanging on for dear life.
After a few close calls with pretend enemy fire and low hanging branches, I become so overcome with excitement that I yell/shout/scream/bellow, “Let’s get Darth Vader!” To make matters worse, I couple my dark side screech with a Jersey Shore style fist bump. People began to turn and stare at that point. It was uncomfortable. Way uncomfortable. Worse than bikini line razor burn uncomfortable.
In my defense, I knew it was ultra dorky the second I did it, but I just couldn’t help myself. What can I say? It was a weak moment. With slumped shoulders and a sheepish heart, I slowly turned and made eye contact with Emma and mumbled, “This is why I’m still single, isn’t it?” She grinned and responded, “You think?”
The ensuing conversation included snickering and a plan for a new blog. The end result? I’m now a blogger. Emma is the editor. If something is wrong with the blog, it’s obviously her fault.
So, we’ve made it to the conclusion of this introductory blog. They say the first time is always the most awkward, so don’t dump me now. Stay tuned for more groovy verbiage… (The fact that I choose to use the terminology “groovy” is reason #79 why I’m still single.)
Meow, Kat
P.S. Thanks for being gentle.
So, how was this blog born? Peer pressure was a factor. (All the cool kids were doing it.) Plus, there was a visit to a psychic a few years back that foretold of my blogging potential. (More on that later.) Mostly, there was an incident that occurred at Edventure, which coincidentally is also the 114th reason I am still single at the spring chicken age of 30.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the metropolis of Columbia, we have a children’s museum called Edventure. (Catchy title, right? Kudos to their Marketing team.) For those of you who aren’t familiar with me, I’m the single mom of a four year old superhero. As you all know, superheroes have ample energy to burn, so I spend a fair amount of time (okay, my whole life) at the park, the zoo, birthday parties (the dry variety), and the ever popular Edventure. Hmmm… maybe my choice of weekend venue is the 115th reason I’m still single? Anyway, I digress. Back to the birth of this blog tale…
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at Edventure with Superman. We were accompanied by my friend and her son. We’ll call them Emma and Batman. So, Emma is married and Batman is normal. As such, they were quietly ice fishing in the “Let It Snow” exhibit. Superman and I were busy trying to make a break for the North Pole when out of the corner of our eyes, we simultaneously spot a shiny, flashy, perfect snowmobile. Now this isn’t just any snowmobile, it is tricked out with sound effects fit for a kid king and some seriously sweet swivel action. This snowmobile also happens to be nestled into a winter wonderland scene complete with snow of course and surrounded by big fake pine trees. Naturally, the only rational course of action is to sprint over to the snowmobile, which we did in short measure. (Marion Jones had nothing on us, even with her performance “enhancers.”) On a side note, if you’re reading this and we knocked over your toddler or small child in our reckless abandon, I do apologize.
While we were booking it to the snowmobile, I suddenly realize that this looks just like the getaway forest scene from Return of the Jedi. At that moment, I AM Princess Leia and Superman IS Luke Skywalker. I’m sporting double hair buns and Superman is packing a light saber. We are siblings and one day, we will rule this galaxy far, far away. For now, we have to contend with those damn pesky storm troopers. We are fortunate to have the Ewoks at our disposal, but as much as the little guys want to help, they look like overgrown teddy bears, so Luke and I are clearly going to have to rely on our own cunning bravado. There’s no time for hesitation, so we hop on board and I immediately take control of navigation as my arms are longer and I can best manipulate the steering wheel. Luke instinctively takes over our defense and begins to shoot the storm troopers. At this point, the snowmobile is bouncing back and forth, the sound effects are in full swing, and Luke and I are hanging on for dear life.
After a few close calls with pretend enemy fire and low hanging branches, I become so overcome with excitement that I yell/shout/scream/bellow, “Let’s get Darth Vader!” To make matters worse, I couple my dark side screech with a Jersey Shore style fist bump. People began to turn and stare at that point. It was uncomfortable. Way uncomfortable. Worse than bikini line razor burn uncomfortable.
In my defense, I knew it was ultra dorky the second I did it, but I just couldn’t help myself. What can I say? It was a weak moment. With slumped shoulders and a sheepish heart, I slowly turned and made eye contact with Emma and mumbled, “This is why I’m still single, isn’t it?” She grinned and responded, “You think?”
The ensuing conversation included snickering and a plan for a new blog. The end result? I’m now a blogger. Emma is the editor. If something is wrong with the blog, it’s obviously her fault.
So, we’ve made it to the conclusion of this introductory blog. They say the first time is always the most awkward, so don’t dump me now. Stay tuned for more groovy verbiage… (The fact that I choose to use the terminology “groovy” is reason #79 why I’m still single.)
Meow, Kat
P.S. Thanks for being gentle.
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