Cathy and the Bullies feat. a Samoan

 Today, my friend, we’ll call her Cathy, sat next these two girls, we’ll call them Prissy Girls, in one of her classes. (Cathy actually didn’t mean to sit next to them, the Prissy Girls were forced upon her. Perhaps not unlike how the Ring was forced upon Frodo, which was a great and terrible burden, but it taught us all something we can take to heart.)

While sitting next to Prissy Girls, Cathy could not help but overhear their conversation… because they were right next to her and talking not-so-quietly. They would comment on every girl that walked into class. Such as: “She is not cute” and “Look at her hair!” and “She’s not pretty at all”. Mind you, I’m in college. Let me repeat that: I am in college.

First of all, when I was watching Mean Girls, I didn’t realize that real human beings actually acted like that, because no where during high school did I ever come into contact with that. I thought that the drama in that movie was in fact dramatized for dramatic affect. But apparently, someone went down to a high school under cover with a video camera and hid behind lockers and chemistry books to capture real-life footage of high school girls and then made it into a movie.

Second, oh my god, what the hell? Seriously, who does that? I find it absolutely terrifying that while I am walking around campus all day there are people purposefully looking for people to judge.

Third, I have a letter for these girls… *clears throat* :

Dear Prissy Girls,
Grow up. You are in college now. Act like god-damn adults.

Apparently, we need to have a little talk on how to treat people. You should treat other human beings as if they were human beings. Always. Why is does that seem so hard for some people?

For example: One time in high school, a HUGE Samoan football player (he was like three times my size) was running backwards down the hall (trying to catch a football his friend was about to throw. Where the hell is the administration in this school?). He ran into me, and I’m telling you, it was like a bowling ball hit a pin. I went flying; my papers, notebooks, pencils were up in the air, my English book was permanently lodged sideways into the wall. This guy gave me one look, and then kept running for the football. Maybe he thought I had just fallen because he didn’t feel it when my body bounced off of his, I don’t know. Either way, not fun. Was catching the fake hog-skin really more important than helping someone?

But Prissy Girls, I forgive you, because I know the only reason you pass such serious judgment on others is because you’re sad inside. I understand that it is because you are so irredeemably damaged that you have to tear down others in order to build yourself up. And I can only hope that one day you too can blossom into a healthy, productive member of society and stop being such villainous, abominable misleaders of youth.

Let us pray and hope that the high school instinct in people can be sucked out of them using leeches or time. Hopefully leeches. Does anyone know where I can find leeches? I’m sure Prissy Girls will be much kinder without all that pesky blood in them…

No! Time is the answer. Time and patience. Anger, fear, aggression; the dark side of the Force are they. Down the dark path, go I must not. Lied about the cookies, did they.


I am a Nerd, Thank You Very Much

I am socially awkward. I am introverted. Rather than going out with my friends, partying, or patrolling for cute guys, I like to stay in and read, or write, or watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I love Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Firefly, Narnia, Legend of the Seeker, X-Men, Primeval, Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, Portal, the list goes on. I am a nerd. A nerd I say!

However, my sister says I’m not a nerd. She says I’m not cool enough to be a nerd.

So in recent events, the “nerd” has grown in popularity. Except not really. Things that used to be looked down upon have suddenly sprung up as not only being socially acceptable, but endorsed. But these supposed “nerds” are not actually nerds. The popular people are still the popular people on the top of the food pyramid, and the socially awkward people are still on the bottom. As one of my favorite memes would say:


It took me a long time to accept my identity as a nerd. People made fun of me, called me weird, and teased me, hissing out nerd like Basilisk venom. I used to lie awake at bed at night wishing as hard as anyone ever could to be anyone else but myself, wishing not to be a nerd.

It took years, and the vlogbrothers, to accept that part of myself. But I did accept it. And not only that, I learned to love that part of myself. And now, all of the sudden, the same people who cursed me with the name have now stolen it from me. They’ve stolen it from us. They’ve stolen our identity.

Well, who am I now? Where the hell do I belong? I can’t be a nerd, I’m still not “popular”, so where does that leave me?

It leaves me in the desert on a horse with no name.

It leaves me standing on a beach with naught but a name and your word it’s the one I need.

And I don’t care if Shakespeare thinks that a name doesn’t matter, and that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Name does matter. And I have lost mine.

No. No I have not. I am not just going to sit idly by, blooming on the walls, while something so important to me is stripped away like hair on Michael Phelps. No can do. I reclaim my nerdom, clamping it close to my heart with white-knuckled fists. You cannot take away my name.

Dear people who think they can just put on a pair of glasses and call themselves a nerd, GTFO. This is my territory, and I intend to keep it. I plan to defend my title as vigorously as Dr. McCoy defends his. I intend to keep it like Smeagol keeps the Ring. I mean to fight for it like Peter does for Narnia. And for Aslan! And I shall treasure it like Snape does Lily. Always.

Best Wishes,