A Galaxy Far, Far Away

A good friend of mine once said to me that nerds like us anticipate their child’s first viewing of Star Wars as most normal parents might anticipate taking their kid to his first baseball game.

It is SO true. And our kid definitely had some early exposure to the franchise before seeing the movie just by living in this house. We dressed him as Yoda for his second and third Halloween (he was a mere seven days old at his first Halloween). He learned a few of the characters from a strategy guide of my husband’s that became bathroom reading for awhile during the toilet training phase. He broke the antenna on the Boba Fett bobble head when he was one or two years old because Daddy’s toys are always more interesting than his own. And most recently, he’s been playing the Lego Star Wars game on our late PlayStation 3.

The game having piqued his interest, he began to seek out other Star Wars themed toys and books. He told everyone he encountered that he wanted his own lightsaber, or “light saver, because it saves people.” So when we went to visit his grandparents recently, they caved and bought him a pair.

We went to the library, and he went to the desk to ask the librarian if they had any Star Wars books for him. We came home with Death Star Battles and I Want to be a Jedi. And we read the parts that interested him and skipped the spoilers (which were everywhere in the Jedi one especially).

We got this new HDTV, so we thought we might be able to postpone the screening of A New Hope until the Blu-Ray movies came out in the fall. We thought perhaps a birthday treat. Well, none of us, it seemed, could stand to wait that long.

So on May 30, 2011, Memorial Day, we watched that Star Wars movie.

Our boy spent the time shooting storm troopers and Darth Vader with his toy gun (aka “blaster”). He made us all say, “utinni!” over and over again. And he kept asking who everyone was. He liked the exciting parts, like the shooting, the lightsaber battles and the space battles. He got a little antsy during the more expository scenes like Luke’s various conversational encounters on Tatooine. The parts where the droids get knocked around upset him somewhat, though he didn’t seem bothered by the storm troopers falling left and right, nor by Obi Wan’s defeat at the end.

And when the final credits began to roll, he said, “Can we play the next board?”

You should have seen his face light up when we happened to mention that there were five more movies. I believe his response was, “Can we watch those five more movies right now?” And the next morning, as soon as he woke up he asked, “How would YOU like to watch that Star Wars movie again with me?”

Since then, he’s had fun making lightsabers and blasters out of toys or sticks or garbage. He usually pretends to be either Obi Wan Kenobi or Darth Vader. And often, in the car, I am Princess Leia driving the space ship. Today he told my husband that he looked like a wookiee. Ha!

Anyway, it’s so fun that we’re starting to share the saga with the next generation of nerd. I don’t remember really having watched the films all the way through until around the time of the Special Edition theater releases leading up to the prequels, so now I know how my friends felt when they took me to the shows way back when.

I can’t wait for Empire, though I’m pretty sure he’s not quite ready for all that heaviness just yet, because he’s been making us listen to the Yoda song (Weird Al Yankovic) incessantly in the car. I think he’ll really enjoy seeing Yoda in action someday. Soon. Perhaps when the Blu-Ray comes out in the fall.

Restoring Sanity

Check out my super cute rallying partners:

So on Saturday, October 30th, my family, a couple of friends and I headed out to the National Mall to add our bodies to the crowd marching to bring sanity back to our country (and/or keep fear alive — though I’m pretty sure that the fear mongering was facetious).

Now, we are about as far from seasoned protesters as it comes, and I’m pretty sure that was kind of the point. That there are a lot of intelligent people who have opinions that don’t get heard because we don’t do all that name calling and shouting. Whether Republican, Democrat or somewhere outside either of those labels (or in between, as the case may be), there are plenty of Americans out there who agree that there might be a better way to disagree with each other, with elected officials, policy, what have you.

We were there not just because we’re fans of Jon Stewart and/or Stephen Colbert. We were there because, as one of the signs in the crowd expressed, when the comedians are telling you that this isn’t funny anymore, it’s time for something to change.

We had a great time at the rally, even though we could neither see nor hear from where we were standing. The best part was that we were surrounded by actual reasonable people. Folks were polite and courteous. They were friendly and conversational. They loved M’s sign, which he was very enthusiastically willing to show to anyone and everyone from up on Daddy’s shoulders. It was just a nice crowd to be in. And I usually tend to avoid crowds whenever possible.

I would seek out this crowd again.

As I’ve been watching some of the clips of Stewart and Colbert, their many guests, skits and songs from the rally, I’m glad that I can say we were a part of that. However negative the press write-ups have been, I still believe that it was worthwhile to make the effort to be there, and I hope that it helped get someone who might not have gave it a second thought, to go out and vote today for whoever you believe can do the best job at representing what’s important to you the people in Washington.

Bo-Fett

Begun the youngling’s training has.

Like many of us, my son likes to read while using the toilet. On many occasions, since one of the adults in the house has to accompany him to “the office,” we also bring our own reading material. Usually it’s been copies of The Economist, which M also sometimes likes to borrow while he conducts his business.

The other day, James brought the strategy guide to one of his Star Wars computer games. It was still in the bathroom when I took M to potty after dinner. So we looked at it. And on the back cover, there were several photos. The first thing that caught his eye, which he was very proud to point out, was “Gorilla!”

Of course, it was actually a shot of three wookiees. But gorilla was a pretty good guess, no? So I agreed that they did look like gorillas and told him what they really were. So now he knows the difference between a gorilla and a “ookiee.” He also knows what wookies say, which was a sound he used to make all the time when he was just learning the mechanics of his own voice but now has no idea what to do to get it to come out the right way. It’s totally adorable.

He then pointed to some of the other pictures on the book.

He didn’t seem to have any memory of Yoda from Halloween, but it’s entirely possible that he had no idea he was even dressed up at all, much less as the famous little green Muppet from Dagobah. But he knows “Oda” now.

And storm troopers (“pom poopers”) and Boba Fett (Bo-Fett).

I think part of me always just assumed that it would be James introducing our little nerdling to the ways of the Force. Since he’s by far the biggest nerd in our family to date. But I just couldn’t resist. And it’s provided some good laughs for these cold winter days.

Parting

I’ve been a pack rat. Objects have value beyond dollars and cents to me. My books have accumulated with deliberate attention and traveled with me hundreds of miles. They are like old friends. But the relationships have changed, and I feel like I’m clinging too tightly to the past.

So I’ve decided to say goodbye to many. For real. Finding a way to sell them off one by one or all at once. To give away the rest or trade them for other things more applicable to my present, my future. This will most likely be a very difficult parting, or set of partings.

I love my books. I love having lots of books. I love the fact that my bookshelves narrate just by titles on spines a significant story of my life. But I’ve come to accept that these are just objects. I might only pare down my collection by half, but I think that a lot of these books as possessions are weighing me down. I know I won’t be able to let them all go, but I am in one of those moods where I think I’ll be able to significantly lighten my load and not regret it later. Perhaps I’ll even feel better.

So let us begin this process and hope it goes well.

I met him in a swamp down on Dagobah…

Looks like he’s being tempted toward the Dark Side.

Let the Force be your guide, kiddo. Everything will be okay.

Happy Halloween… a week late.

Frak

So we’ve been working our way through the first three seasons of Battlestar Gallactica on DVD. We had planned to record the new episodes when they started so that we could move seamlessly into season four, but alas, I think we’ve already missed one. Of course, with technology the way it is, we might be able to catch it online.

A few years ago, I remember seeing a commercial here and there for the show. Never caught my interest. And frankly, the snippets of dialog totally turned me off. Because there was this one made up word used over and over again to get around the fact that you can’t drop a real f-bomb on television. I rolled my eyes, and I figured that this was just another one of those nerd shows and it probably isn’t very good if swearing  (or blatant substitution for swearing) is the only way to make a point.

But it is a good show. Yeah, sure, it’s a total nerd show, no question. But it’s good. And I’m enjoying it. But I still roll my eyes to myself every time they use the f-word. Frak. Frakking, frakker, frakked. Doesn’t matter the context really, though my eye rolls become more exaggerated with the noun and verb (“mother-frakker” or “he totally frakked her”) forms than with the adjective, adverb or just plain expletive usage (“frak this,” “it’s all frakked up”). Though even the lesser eye-roll inducing usages are still noticeable enough that I have to make a concerted effort to ignore them and just follow the story already.

Maybe it’s just me. But as a word nerd, this just strikes me as a cop out. There have been plenty of times in my own writing where I have forgone the use of a four-letter word in favor of something that turned out to be even more powerful. Sure, I’ve utilized the cursing here and there, but the words do tend to lose some of their steam after you hear them over and over again. Even the f-word (the real one).

Now, James brought it to my attention that since the show has a military majority as far as the characters go, the consistent and excessive use of any type of curse word is actually quite realistic. And I get that. I totally do. But this frak word? Well, I guess because it’s not really a cuss word but a stand-in, it just sounds sillier and sillier the more dramatically and intensely it is invoked. Why not just stick to the swears you can actually say on television? There really aren’t too many that are off the table anymore.

I’m just saying.

Little Sullustan

I’m a big nerd. Awhile back, I was looking into my baby son’s adorable little face as he ate whatever garment he happened to be wearing that day, and I said to my husband, “What is that alien in Star Wars with the big black eyes and droopy chubby cheeks? Because that’s what he reminds me of.”

James had no idea what I was talking about. He accused me of being a big nerd and asked me what movies I thought I’d seen this mystery species of alien in. I was pretty sure it was the original trilogy somewhere, but couldn’t place the character, though I knew he was a minor or background one.

He snatched up my computer and began to search through the Star Wars alien species directory or some such. He kept pulling up different alien pictures, and one after another I was like, no, no, no, and described again the creature I meant.

It took him awhile, but he eventually found the right one. And he totally agreed with me about the resemblance. So since then, we have affectionately referred to our little guy as our little Sullustan. Because we are both huge nerds and find ourselves ceaselessly amusing. But really, you can see the similarities, right?

Vocabulary Buiding

Lately, when I’m tired of trying to Do Productive Things, I’ve been visiting www.freerice.com. If you haven’t seen this site already, it’s kind of like the GRE or other standardized test. It gives you a word and you have to match its definition. If you answer right, the site donates 20 grains of rice through the United Nations to help end world hunger. So not only am I doing something that exercises my brain on the Internet (for once), but I also get to feed the needy. Those 20 grains for each right answer add up fast, I’ve already donated several thousand grains personally, which translates into at least a few full servings. Not only that, I feel smart, being a word nerd and all, and I also get to learn more words in the process.

And speaking of learning new words, my son is figuring out how to use his voice more and more every day. He coos after a diaper change, but it’s a different sound than when he coos after a sneeze, which are both entirely different from when he’s just hanging out and babbling. He’s been trying out different vowel sounds, which at times even respond to what we say like we’re having an actual conversation. And his smiles are getting bigger, more frequent. It’s amazing to watch. And to listen.

We read stories and poems together, and he’s getting better at sitting by himself for a few minutes so that I can eat or cook or something. And speaking of cooking, why has no one revealed to me the magic of the slow cooker before this time? We had a roast the other day, and yeah, it’s not easy peeling potatoes while a baby demands your full attention from the other room, but Oh. My. God. what a dinner! In fact, I’ve a good mind to experiment with other recipes in that slow cooker cookbook, especially the ones where you just dump all the ingredients into the thing, turn it on, and several hours later enjoy a delicious home cooked meal.

But I digest. I’m still getting the hang of this at home time management thing, because I still never know when a nap might actually occur and how long it may last if I can manage to get the boy to sleep. So I’m trying my best, and hopefully I’ll be able to get some actual paying work done this week like I promised I would.

Even when he’s not screaming or talking to me, though, I find myself inexplicably drawn to him. I want to look at his daily changing features and memorize each raise of his eyebrow and curl of his lip. The way he looks up at me when I’m feeding him and reaches his arm up to grasp the fabric of my shirt. How lucky am I? It almost makes me feel guilty. Almost.

My Name is Sara and I’m a Nerd.

So after going for a walk, helping James clean the blood off his heal from where he stabbed his foot on the couch, and eating a delicious soy ginger marinated salmon fillet with steamed green beans, I actually did work on my thesis. As much as I didn’t really feel like doing it.

I have most of the poetry written and mostly done. A few minor revisions are still necessary, but right now, I’m trying to look more at the big picture. So I worked last night on dividing up my book into several sections. In my opinion it’s easier to deal with 15 poems at a time than to deal with 60, so that’s what I’m trying to do.

But the thing is, I needed to name the sections. And since I don’t know what kind of order they’re going to appear, I needed to call the sections something unrelated to my current impression of the manuscript, because I know that’s going to change, and I’ll probably title the sections as the last thing I do before deciding on a final title for the whole. So, because I don’t know the order yet, I didn’t want to just use generic section dedications like “A,” “B,” “C,” “D,” (alphabetical) or “I,” “II,” “III,” “IV,” (numerical), since those imply an order, even if the intention is not to leave the sections in that order.

When I told James how I ended up with the temporary names for my four sections, he laughed and pointed and called me a nerd. And though I didn’t name them after really nerdy things like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars, I guess calling them Venture, Samson, Monarch, and Orpheus must still put me pretty high on the nerd-o-meter. Oh well. It helps me, it has no implied order, and no relation whatsoever to the themes in my writing, so I’m happy with the nerd. I embrace it. And even if my temporary titles only amuse one person (me), I’m okay with that.

Dear Superman,

If it’s true that you get your super powers from the earth’s yellow sun, how did you fly all the way to Krypton, where the rays of the earth’s yellow sun don’t really have much influence? Furthermore, how did you ever manage to find your way back?

I suppose that you must have taken a spacecraft after all, since you crashed it back on the Kent farm again. That would explain it, I guess. I’d hate to think of you floating all cold and depleted out there in the universe, once you didn’t have the sun around anymore, suffocating.

Also, you seem to have built up an amazing resilience to kryptonite while you were away. I mean, you’d think that even being near the stuff would have weakened you to the point where you couldn’t have lifted what you did from where you lifted it and thrown it where you threw it. Sure, it looked tough, but it’s not like you dropped it or anything. Have you been toying with us? Leading your enemies on to think that they might have half a chance against you? You sly bastard.

Anyway, does the atmosphere have any effect on how well the sun is able to refresh you? Does Birdman’s crest work the same way?

Your friend,
Sara

This is what happens…

…when I’m too tired to read or write anymore and there’s not anything worth watching on TV:

From the Nerd of My Heart

I’ve been kicking ass and taking naps. So, the school thing is going alright. I still go back and forth about the big exam that is now less than two months away. I have a lot of reading to do before then, but I’ve also been keeping up, and even working mildly ahead, in my actual classes. This week’s Thursday Nonfiction will feature none other than Natasha. She claims that a profile on her will put my class to sleep, but having spent a few hours with her yesterday, I think I’ll be able to bring out the fun. And the funk. Or at least complete the first profile assignment.

What’s freaking me out is that I have to collect a story from someone. And it has to be told to me “in person,” or at least vocally enough that I can somehow capture word-for-word inflections and all on a recording device of some sort. I am nervous about this because I don’t know who has stories, or what kind, or who to ask? I’m sure this can be done over speakerphone, so maybe I’ll check in with the parents and see if they want to share some of their rememberings with me.

The scanner will be heading to Maryland for hardware servicing. Good that it’s still under warranty, but bad that we have to dig up some time to actually go to Maryland.

We did get a shiny new flat-screen monitor, though. And it is wicked awesome, a term I don’t just go throwing around all willy-nilly.

I was thinking about this blog today, and I thought I didn’t have anything to write about. So my brain was attempting to come up with something worthy. Then I sat down, and all of the above came pouring out. I’ll have to write about Jerry the mailman, and fairy-tale babies another time. Maybe the latter will have more fuel after I return from my folklore class tomorrow night.

Oh, yeah, and the husband is cooking me shrimp on Wednesday. You know, for Valentine’s. We’ve worked it out pretty good, I get yummy food and he gets laid. Not a bad holiday at all. Especially if you celebrate it on the 15th because of class or something. And if you’ve already both agreed that since you just shelled out significant dollars for a new monitor (not a frivolous purchase, the other one totally went mental–I think the scanner had something to do with it or maybe it was the other way around. Nope, scanner’s still dead), no substantial sums will be spent on frivolous heart-y pants baubles or toys. It’s always best not to make your bank account beg and cry.

My Life in Songs

The Early Years:

“Dancing On the Ceiling” -Lionel Richie
“Daydream Believer” -The Monkees
“Disco Duck” -Donald Duck
“The Gambler” -Kenny Rogers
“I Wanna Rock” -Twisted Sister
“On the Road Again” -Willie Nelson
“Paradise City” -Guns N Roses
“Surfer Girl” -Beach Boys
“You Needed Me” -Anne Murray

Awkward Teenage Years:

“Bed of Roses” -Bon Jovi
“Closer” -Nine Inch Nails
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy” -Bobby McFerrin
“Dream Weaver” -Gary Wright
“Here and Now” -Luther Vandross
“I’m Too Sexy” -Right Said Fred
“Need You Tonight” -INXS
“Professional Widow” -Tori Amos
“Red Rain” -Peter Gabriel
“Red Right Hand” -Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
“Slow Like Honey” -Fiona Apple
“Stayin’ Alive” -Beegees
“Sweet Dreams (are made of this)” -Marilyn Manson
“I Don’t Wanna Grow Up” -Tom Waits
“(I’m not your) Stepping Stone” -The Monkees
“We Don’t Mind” -Hayden
“Zoot Suit Riot” -Cherry Poppin’ Daddies

The College Years:

“Bloodletting (the Vampire Song) -Concrete Blonde
“Coward of the County” -Kenny Rogers
“Criminal” -Fiona Apple
“Everybody Hurts” -R.E.M.
“I Put a Spell on You” -Marilyn Manson
“In September” -Hayden
“Pasties and a G-String” -Tom Waits
“Temptation” -Tom Waits
“Sara” -Bob Dylan
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” -Tori Amos
“Stripped” -Rammstein
“Welcome to the Jungle” -Guns N Roses

The Now:

“Blood of Eden” -Peter Gabriel
“Don’t Stop Me Now” -Queen
“Fade Into You” -Mazzy Star
“The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” -Johnny Cash
“Hallelujah” -Jeff Buckley
“I’ll Stand By You” -The Pretenders
“Into My Arms” -Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
“Lady” -Kenny Rogers
“Let Go” -Frou Frou
“The Prayer” -Josh Groban and
“Raspberry Swirl” -Tori Amos
“Silverscreen” -Jesca Hoop
“Seven Nation Army” -White Stripes
“Time” -Tom Waits or Tori Amos
“World in My Eyes” -Depeche Mode

Animation Domination

As I was watching Fox this evening, I made note of the Sunday lineup that they’re hyping for May. Family Guy, Simpsons, King of the Hill, American Dad, etc. The [adult swim] on Cartoon Network is pretty much slaughtering the other networks’ late-night programming. And the reason? My generation. We are a cartoon generation.

I realized tonight that I am the media target. I am the one that they hope will watch and buy. And I point this out for a very good reason. It will not be long before I look around and go, “…the hell?” In other words, soon I will be the one who is out of touch with the “youth today.” Not that we twenty-somethings are quite “youth” anymore, because even now, I will see something like that Hillary Duff or Lizzie McGuire show or whatever her name is, or those small children mobbing the Manga aisles at work and just think, “What is going on?” And don’t get me started on Dance Dance Revolution.

However, I must take comfort that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Care Bears, and My Little Pony are making their comebacks. Not to mention the fact that one of the greatest video games ever came out just a couple weeks ago: LEGO Star Wars. Now there’s a fad I can feel good about passing on to the youth of America.

Hmmm. Wonder if the Sylvanian Families will be coming back, too.

(Oh, wait, that’s right, I was a big loser, and no one I knew even had any of those things but me. But there’s a duck family now. And they have a website. So that’s got to count for something, no? I guess it just means that there are other losers out there somewhere who also like cute fuzzy posable animals that wear tiny clothes.

God, I’m lame.)

Anyway, I digress. My point is that I am young but I was once even younger. Soon I will not be young, yet my youth will follow me.

We are overgrown children, all.

But what’s wrong with that?

Her name is Lola

If you are in school or have a life of any sort, I must advise. Don’t get the Sims 2 until you have a LOT of free time.

I never really played the Sims before, but last week, we got ourselves a copy of the game everyone’s talking about. It’s fun, but time consuming as hell. So if you have anything that you need to be getting done, DO NOT BUY THIS GAME.

And I’ve only got one Sim going, AND she hasn’t even done anything Really Cool yet.

Must. Stop. Playing. This. Game. Have. To. Read. For. Class. Tomorrow.

If my willpower can hold out, I just might be okay. Be strong, Willpower. Lola will be there when all the reading is done.