(no subject)
I'm particular about how my room is arranged. Not that I believe in feng shui, but I do like certain things to be in corners, or near windows. And today I rearranged my room, after having it one way for only a month, because it just didn't feel right. Now, I think, it does.
I also replaced some blinds, which was harder than I'd expected. Darn screws. I need to learn how to use an electric drill. If only my toy sonic screwdriver actually worked...
Amy and I are borrowing Trudy's copy of Eureka Season One. It's a cute show. Too bad it's only twelve episodes; that's almost as bad as a season of New Who. But we're not quite finished with it yet. It really improves as you go along, and the actors are more confident of their characters. I hate Stark, though. I want to slap him. I'm hoping that's intentional on the actor's part.
Got in a discussion with Mary awhile back about different kinds of geeks. See, I really intend to marry a geek guy. I just don't think I could handle anyone who couldn't also get excited about fantasy/sci-fi. But the thing is, so many geek guys take their geekiness farther than I think it healthy. And girls too, actually. It's like they can never joke about it, never look at it from the outside and acknowledge that it is, in the end, slightly ridiculous. Like the sports fan that pummels you if you suggest that the sun does not rise and set on their beloved team. 'Cause, yes, I went and looked up which episode the sonic screwdriver first shows up in, and yes I can recite all 81 chapters of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and yes I get excited about picardy thirds, but I am fully aware that these things do not a fulfilled life make. I'm no party girl, but if one of my friends is having a party, I am not going to stay home and read Tolkien instead.
It's like, geekiness is fun, geekiness is exciting, I will never not be a geek. It's how I was made. But back in my freshman year in college, I had a professor who said, "Only two things last forever: the Word of God and the souls of men." And that's the truth. The stories and music that I love enhance the creation I live in and help me to see God's world anew. I love them. But I must always remember that I can live without them. I must always be able to live without them. That almost makes them more fun. It's like what Tolkien said about hobbits and food, perhaps the reason they love it so much is because they can go without it. Geekiness is joy, geekiness is dessert, geekiness makes me happy, but I can never let it be my life.
(Besides, it's easier to get along with normal people if you can laugh at your own geekiness.)
Aunt Beth wants me to bring a pasta salad for Labor Day. I told Mom I only know how to make one pasta salad, but apparently that's okay.
I also replaced some blinds, which was harder than I'd expected. Darn screws. I need to learn how to use an electric drill. If only my toy sonic screwdriver actually worked...
Amy and I are borrowing Trudy's copy of Eureka Season One. It's a cute show. Too bad it's only twelve episodes; that's almost as bad as a season of New Who. But we're not quite finished with it yet. It really improves as you go along, and the actors are more confident of their characters. I hate Stark, though. I want to slap him. I'm hoping that's intentional on the actor's part.
Got in a discussion with Mary awhile back about different kinds of geeks. See, I really intend to marry a geek guy. I just don't think I could handle anyone who couldn't also get excited about fantasy/sci-fi. But the thing is, so many geek guys take their geekiness farther than I think it healthy. And girls too, actually. It's like they can never joke about it, never look at it from the outside and acknowledge that it is, in the end, slightly ridiculous. Like the sports fan that pummels you if you suggest that the sun does not rise and set on their beloved team. 'Cause, yes, I went and looked up which episode the sonic screwdriver first shows up in, and yes I can recite all 81 chapters of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and yes I get excited about picardy thirds, but I am fully aware that these things do not a fulfilled life make. I'm no party girl, but if one of my friends is having a party, I am not going to stay home and read Tolkien instead.
It's like, geekiness is fun, geekiness is exciting, I will never not be a geek. It's how I was made. But back in my freshman year in college, I had a professor who said, "Only two things last forever: the Word of God and the souls of men." And that's the truth. The stories and music that I love enhance the creation I live in and help me to see God's world anew. I love them. But I must always remember that I can live without them. I must always be able to live without them. That almost makes them more fun. It's like what Tolkien said about hobbits and food, perhaps the reason they love it so much is because they can go without it. Geekiness is joy, geekiness is dessert, geekiness makes me happy, but I can never let it be my life.
(Besides, it's easier to get along with normal people if you can laugh at your own geekiness.)
Aunt Beth wants me to bring a pasta salad for Labor Day. I told Mom I only know how to make one pasta salad, but apparently that's okay.