I possess some fairly geeky tendencies. I admit it. And it's pretty liberating to shout it out here. Here are a few examples, past and present, of my nerdiness:
I played Barbies until well into the eighth grade. Yep, and blamed my younger sister for forcing me to play with her, when friends came around. For shame. I didn't kiss a boy until I was 15. And then lied when he asked if he was the first person I'd kissed. Which means it was pretty bloody obvious that I didn't know what the hell I was doing with lips and tongue and all. (I'm still a little embarrassed about that.) While my younger brother and sister were playing sports and cheerleading, I was in honor roll and Spanish club, and wishing to be a character in (any) Bronte novel. Yep, laying it out there, because I am just that secure in my present coolness. Haha.
I think that Laura Ingalls was bad ass. Seriously. That girl rocked it out on the prairie. I aspire to Laura-ness. Are you kidding me? Bake some bread, knit some lace, sew a quilt, and then go stomp down the hay in the wagon, and race the horses across the prairie? Freaking sweet. (Do not confuse this with Ma, who was appallingly obedient and wishy-washy, in my humble opinion.) Some would, perhaps, see this as supremely nerdy. To those that doubt my view, I simply ask: "How does it feel to be wrong?"
And now...my inner geek tends toward perpetual timeliness. Seriously, I am always, or at least 95% of the time, ten or more minutes early. To everything. School drop off, bus pick ups, appointments, playdates, you name it. Part of that is my uptight worrier self, trying to compensate for any weird unknowns that might pop up and make me, oh horror of horrors, late. Traffic jam, alien abduction, flat tire...I have got it covered, folks.
Why on earth, you may ask, do I have to be early all the time? Well, friends...so I can do this:
That's right. I will stress myself out getting out the door early...just so I have ten extra minutes to sit and knit. Told you I was freeing my inner geek. Judge me if you want, just know this: As adults, and parents, how much time do we have to ourselves? To do something for no other reason than that it makes us happy, or calm, or relaxed? How often do we fit in a few minutes a day to focus on a little "me" time? That's right. It's rare. So, I worked out a way, you see. (And I get to appear highly organized and responsible, when really I'm being completely self-centered. Tricky me.)
And on the weekend, that one lovely day of sunshine that graced us with its presence? We headed out, some for a little of this kind of action:
While some of us chose a little (nerdier? nah!) sort of action:
It's good stuff. I am one liberated geek, and I get to do what gets me happy. As the mister says:
"Up here for thinking." (Point to noggin.)
"Down here for dancing." (Wiggle your booty.)