Strength in numbers…

‎”Because nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff. We don’t have to be like, ‘Oh yeah that purse is okay’ or like, ‘Yeah, I like that band’s early stuff.’ Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself-love it… When people call people nerds, mostly what they are saying is, ‘You like stuff’, which is just not a good insult at all, like ‘You are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness.'” – John Green



I had a [bad] boyfriend once. I remember two distinct turning points in our relationship — the red flags, if you will. One summer’s night we were watching the cars go across the Ben Franklin Bridge on patio-style bar and restaurant, and I remember marveling at the sheer beauty of it, the architectural genius that is a bridge, the man hours, sweat, engineering, and –love–of creating something enduring—I probably just made some comment like, “Wow, did you ever think about how cool a bridge is…?” and I don’t remember his exact wording, but it was kind of raging, an angry, mean moment of “You are too stupid to live!” kind of response. Now, if I had been a stronger young woman, and wasn’t trying to work out 20-something self-esteem issues, I would have tossed my warm beer in his face, slapped it Bette Davis style, and gotten a cab right then and there. If only I had had my future self tell me that my enthusiasm was grace embodied. I eventually did do all that, at least metaphorically, but that one conversation has always struck me as poignant. 

Kellda the Adventurer



Well, that’s an interesting word, “poignant.” Because when I think about him, and all of his fears over not being cool, not being perceived as hip or awesome or stately, those fears crippled him.

Tomorrow is this blog’s second year anniversary–and oh poor Navi and Tome. They each have gotten a long string of pink pity-party tells this past week. I have one real id friend who, for reasons he has not shared, hasn’t spoken to me much. I have another one who dropped me without explanation. I have had some stress at work (it goes with the territory). And of course, the usual love and concern for family and friends. They both ended up giving me some amazing pets: Ragnaros and Lil KT – seriously, how cool is that?! Owning a tiny version of Ragnaros may be the only way I can control him. He is unfinished business. And guess what?! One of my battletag buddies noticed my warlock’s name, Kellda, and asked if it was from a Terry Pratchet book — yes, indeed! YES! Wee Free Men, and the name Kellda is not only Kelda in the story, but, oh, never mind. Let’s just say I like the name. We kept chatting and we’re now Goodreads buddies and Facebook friends. Isn’t that grand?

So, weighing it out, here and there, this and that, I am going to remind myself of a few promises:


1. Write what and when I feel like, and if real life needs attention, try not to let it irritate me. Find a way to gather the ideas, keep them in water until I can get to them.


2. Know that not every one is going to dig my sh*t. I am an acquired taste. Every one has their own reasons for doing what they do, and I give every one the benefit of the doubt. It’s actually part of my real life job description, so I can do that in the virtual world too.


3. Learn to cope with my altaholicism. And that I may never find a raid team. And that’s okay.


But before one more word gets typed, let me just say, “Thank you.”


PS Tome, I told this new friend your recommendation of The Night Circus–my raid team’s name (if I ever get one) will be called the Azerothian Literate Society Book Club










Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s