Queen of the Nerds! And the War of the Coolest Words Ever.

I am soooo excited! My palpitations are starting up again, only this time from joy!



In...six weeks, I travel to my friend's in Ohio, where we will gird our loins and do the Marvel movie marathons at AMC Theaters, capping off the day with a midnight showing of the new Avengers movie!!!!

Yes, I did use four exclamation points there. That statement calls for them all.

Oh, my Bob, I am so excited about this. There's little that can get me too far down today -- not even finding out today that my temp job might not last very much longer. Which is sad, on the one hand, because I really like the people there (and the money they pay me), but happy because I've been missing my normal waking up time of 7. I don't know. I'm conflicted. Whatever, back to the movies.

I'm excited mostly because now I'll be able to tell people that yeah, I did a day-long movie marathon once. It was awesome/terrible/nothing special (circle one). But I'm even more excited because it caps off with the midnight show of The Avengers, a movie I've been hot for since Thor, way last year ago.

And hells yeah I will be wearing Little Loki to the party. Gotta fly my colors, right?

Queen. Of. The Nerds. My friend and I both.

In other news, I had the sobering realization this week that I'm still ashamed by myself. Not in the "I'm not going out in public" sort of way, but...I am rarely honest about what I want, because I feel like my wants and needs are a bit out of step, you know? Like they're not ambitious enough, or something. It's enough to make me want to wear nothing but sweatpants in defiance. Sweatpants are not the clothing of the ambitious.

Actually, screw ambition. I've never had much of it, it never seems to make the people who have it in spades very happy and it gives you gray hairs and lines. I mean, a certain amount of ambition is absolutely healthy and good and proper, but too much gets in the way of a good time, you know? Not to mention can rob you of peace of mind faster than a professional safe cracker.

I really wish that I'd been more on the housewife and mommy track when I was younger. I'd like, even though I know it's the fast track to misery and even more weight gain when the inevitable happens, to fall in love with someone who returns the favor -- for a novelty. I want to be able to be soft and sensitive and emotional and admit to my more...affectionate side in public. I'd like to have a family and be focused on taking care of them instead of chasing my own tail trying to please someone who never even bought me Valentine's Day candy, never mind the other freebies you get in interpersonal relationships. I'd like to write and be able to sell my fiction, even if it's not very popular and I don't make tons and buckets of money off it, and be able to admit to having written it without feeling embarrassed. I want to be able to be both the natural tomboy (why tomboy, why not tomgirl, which makes more sense from a linguistic angle) that I am, yet still be free to dress up and be all frilly and girly and fabulous on occasion and not feel like a pig in a dress or like people are looking at me and laughing because suddenly that chick who's all about the jeans and house maintenance with pneumatic hammers (my favorite toys of all) is suddenly wearing heels and a skirt. I want to be able to occasionally focus on being all frou-frou and girly and not made to feel like caring about my appearance is "letting the side down", and giving in to male oppression. Saying that wanting to be pretty is giving in to male oppression is a form of  female oppression, isn't it? Who are this magical, omnipotent "They" to tell me what's right and what's wrong?

I think the upshot is, I just want to be who I am at any given moment whether who I am is cool or trendy or on-point. Sometimes, I'm Serious SK and I wear my glasses and chunky square heels with my lab coat. Sometimes, I'm Frivolous SK, and I want to wear my jester hat from Venice out in public. There's Girly SK, Tomboy(girl) SK, Writer SK, Athlete (yes! I swear she's in here!) SK, Schlubby Couch Potato SK, Spiritual SK... I can go on and on, but what's wrong with wanting to be whichever SK I happen to be on any given day, even though I was a different one the day before? Why must I be made to feel guilty for being inconsistent? A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, after all. Perhaps a foolish inconsistency might be a fresh change.

Actually, you could say the inconsistency is a form of consistency (you always know there's the chance I'll be another avatar of myself on any given day). I find the pressure I get to be the same each and every day...oppressive.

I like that word, oppressive. It even looks and sounds oppressive. Just look at all those heavy, droopy consonants! It's almost as cool a word as defenestration, but we all know there is no word as cool as defenestration. None.