nerds and porn

First we must define what the word Nerd is to mean in this post.

Nerd :: A person, (male or female), who is deeply interested in things considered to be nerdy. Ex: Dungeons and Dragons, excessive video game usage, collecting trading cards from childrens shows from Asian countries, avid watchers of anime and attenders of "cons" where one makes costumes and dresses up as a character from one, or an assortment of the above mentioned activities.

In society to be branded a "nerd" is not a flattering thing, unless you are among other nerds, then you earn cool points for your nerdiness. If you have not noticed nerds tend to flock together in groups, rather like jocks. Social studies would tell us that this is due to a mutual interest in something. But I sometimes wonder if its a mutual agreement to shun the rest of the world.   

Thus my question; why can a person not enjoy and dabble in some of the "nerdy" things and yet retain a balanced life by including other activities as well? From my (more extreme instances of) experience its either or. You are sold out or you are out of the club.

Can any one truly live like that? Or does one merely exist?

What is the draw of nerdy things? The chance to use your imagination even as an adult? The possibility of escape from a life where you cannot fight a troll, fly or perform magic? To drown yourself in something that makes you feel good, but is not real?

And this is where I think it can get dangerous. Immersing yourself into anything and hatching an obsession is never a good thing. And before my calling it an "obsession" upsets you please realize that I am not generalizing all nerds, just talking about some.

According to Webster
Obsession: The domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.

When 80% of almost every conversation with someone is dominated by one subject it would seem logical that their thoughts and emotions were constantly surrounding that subject as well. Imagine a sports buff, crazed shopper or lover of video games or D&D.

I've come to a strange conclusion. Lets talk about porn. People look at porn and become addicted for a variety of reasons. One of the major reasons people like porn is because it's not real. It transports them into a fantasy life where they can do or be anything or anyone they want regardless of their weight, temper or other obligations.They are on an adventure and can make anything they want happen.

Do you see the parallel?

Many people are obsessed with video games, (etc),  and love them for some of these very same reasons. They get to live a life of adventure, they get to look however they want, overcome obstacles, win the girl, shoot the bad guy. Its a fake life but they want to spend a lot of time there.

Every time I think of that, I think of porn. Both end up running your life, don't they?

Can you quit whenever you want?

scrubs

Wearing scrubs every single day is really starting to throw off any sense of style I might have ever have had. Its got its pros and cons. like I never have to decide what to wear each day but when I'm finally off work I just go home and throw on my comfy grey sweat pants and a soft shirt. I don't know. I guess I need to realize that there are still reasons to dress up and care about what I'm wearing, even if I don't get to wear it all day long.

conversation

he asked me
i had to admit; yes
the silence was awkward for us both
the proof lay there... and we didn't know what to do with it
so we moved on to a safer subject

i don't know how he always knows, but he does

hold your tongue

I hate it when I cannot scream the words I want to say.

chow chow

CHOW!

I'm in love. I'm in LOVE!

speak

How do you take all of the strong, loud things you have to say and make them quiet and calm so that She will listen? Or would she listen at all? Is there any point in putting all that effort in if it's not even registering as she texts on her phone?

I guess I won't know until I die.

But I'll keep trying.

Cuz no one is a lost cause.

Just stop. please.

excerpt

Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart! Else it may be their miserable fortune, as it was Roger Chillingworth's, when some mightier touch than their own may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be reproached even for the calm content, the marble image of happiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the warm reality.

-Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

sharp

Sometimes life just needs to be a little more Black & White.

getting to know you

It is hard to become friends with adults. It was easier in the sandbox when sharing your shovel made you a new friend. I think we get too judgmental and busy when we are older. And maybe it takes more time to get to know each other because we've lived longer and there is more to tell? More that makes up each person?

if only

I want you to be the best. so much. so much.

story

I just finished Donald Miller's newest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and walked away feeling different than I have after completing any other Miller book. Well, technically I sat on my couch and started at my computer and realized I was hungry, but I felt different. I felt uplifted, optimistic.

This book is about Story. Our story, other people's stories and life itself as a story. What kind of story are you telling with your life? Are you doing dangerous things, not just physically, but are you taking risks in relationships, putting yourself out there, asking the hard questions. Or is a bag of chips and the Simpsons as far as your aspirations go?

I feel like this books is a drop of sunshine, how fitting that the cover is yellow. I've been inspired to make sure that I'm writing the best story that I can, without regretting so much or wishing for more. I've already made a few changes this week, changed my attitudes, asked questions that are changing the directions of friendships... I can't wait to see what is next.

correspondence

How often will I come to find out that most of my close friends I now only know through limited correspondence?

nook

I have a friend who lives alone. His apartment reminds me of somewhere a writer would reside. He's not really a writer but its a cozy little nook which looks like it would yield artistic inspiration and a book or two... or at least a short story, maybe a journal or something. Again, he's not a writer. He sleeps on his floor, plays soccer barefoot and waits tables at a Mexican restaurant. (<--- that's one word I've never learned to spell. "restaurant" not "Mexican". ha.Thanks spell check.)

His apartment reminds me a little of my old room, back home; the home now inhabited by strangers. Bookshelves, black & white prints and blankets. I miss having my own little nest built of color, witticisms and musty paper; with a cat hair, or fifty, thrown in to add a little charm.

I love my roommate, and I like my apartment. But I miss having a space that is all my own. Maybe it's my American individualism or my introverted nature, but I miss it and there is no substitute that can replace it.

complaining

I'm going to complain. You saw the post title so its not like I didn't warn you.

I looked at the schedule for work tomorrow and my spirits plummeted. I know I'm getting paid, (thus the entire point of being there), but inactivity exhausts me. When I spend 6 of the 7 hours I'm there sitting in a spinning office chair wondering if I'm dead or alive ... or maybe I'm just in a coma as I'm slowly spinning, tapping my tennis shoes on the floor. I feel like I'm wasting my life. I'm not helping anyone, I'm just in it for the money. Weren't we taught that it was a sign of bad character just to be in something for the money?

Its so hard to stay and not jump out. I have good reasons to stay; quite often I recite them to myself as I stare at the white office wall wondering what it would feel like to fling myself against it.

Maybe I have a disorder? Something that makes it harder for me to accept reality? Everyone else understands that going to work that you hate is natural. Did I miss the memo?

Work = cage = death of soul.

I hope tomorrow is better. But Josh won't even be there this time so I don't have much hope.

P.s. even my feet are caged inside of the thing I abhor: shoes.

dawned

I'm a jerk. I'm alone. And this is why. The end.

thinker vs. feeler : church

Being a Thinker on the Myers Briggs personality test sometimes its hard for me to live life with my fellow people who are Feelers. This has been magnified recently in the process of going to church. Going to church sometimes feels like being bombarded with touchy-feely propaganda and it gets old week after week. Soft music played before asking for confessions and prayer, being asked to have heart-to-hearts with strangers, holding hands, hugging...

The way most church services are designed was either dreamed up by a Feeler or thought out by a very calculating and manipulative Thinker. Because that's quite often how I feel going to church, (yes, even as a Thinker I still FEEL). I feel manipulated. By the end of the service I should be sniffling with emotion threatening to overcome me. And after the worship set I should be jumping up and down with joy and clapping wholeheartedly. But I don't usually do either of these things.

I contemplate, deliberate, waiver, weigh, ponder; I think. And since I'm not ready to throw my hands in the air and exclaim "Hallelujah!" I don't fit in well with a lot of Christians. Or a lot of my friends for that matter. Its frustrating.

Where does a Thinker fit in at a church run by and attended by Feelers?

flabbergasted

Judge me for my cheesiness... I probably would. But God amazes me. I decided that stress wasn't something he wanted for me and so I'm looking for ways to cut it out of my life. One of them is to stop holding others responsible for my happiness or physical well being and to trust him instead. He is opening my eyes to how well he takes care of me and that leaves me free to take care of others and stop worrying.

I gave something away... and I am literally getting it back ten fold. I chuckle but I'm honestly amazed and flabbergasted. He doesn't lie. He is taking care of me in more ways than I knew.

too tight

Its so much easier to enjoy people and to let them enjoy you when you just love them. When love between friends, or lovers becomes less of a give and take and more of a chart of how well someone has done being your friend, or loving you, everything tightens up. Our hearts tighten up and leave no room for flaws, mistakes or oversights. While trying to get the best out of someone we inadvertently release the worst in ourselves. And perhaps make them feel like they can never measure up.

I've gotten to love three times today... its was sunny, soft and comfortable. Maybe that's why God made the world so beautiful. Maybe he feels the way a sunrise looks when he loves...?

ugly bible

Today I found myself admiring Blue Like Jazz for it's pretty cover. I like to read books with interesting and unique covers. Then I randomly thought about reading my Bible. I think the last time I read it was a month ago... or more. I'm not very good about Bible reading.

Oddly enough, my first thought after thinking, "I should read something from the Bible", was, "but it's such an ugly book."

Have you ever realized that besides law books and encyclopedias, the Bible is the most ugly book out there? Sure we've tried to dress it up as either pink and girly or leather and manly. Oh, and there was also the strange Magazine Bible craze. But we all know those are just so people can take them on the bus and read them without strangers thinking they are judgmental goodie-goodies reading their Bibles on the bus.

The Bible is an important book. Jewish scribes used to hand copy each page, switching their quills, (or whatever they wrote with), each time they wrote the name of God. Monks illustrated their manuscripts with original designs; but today they best we can muster is the "golden edged" edition for twenty bucks. What the heck?

looking behind to see ahead

When I was young, I looked ahead and saw things differently. I didn't see the scars as they were being formed, I didn't understand the impact of the high quality treatment I had received. Did it just set me up for disappointment?

How do I tell the truth when I know it hurts you? I'm disappointed, I can't hold back the truth.

My security is gone. Whipped like a rug from beneath my feet. I'm not surprised but something that shocking can be quite unsettling. Nothing beneath your feet... it's hard to walk on air. Mostly, you just fall.

how sad

It took an almost stranger to provoke us all to a REAL conversation. How pathetic. Yet, it was delightful to hear ideas, inspirations and formed thoughts spoken.

Thank you, Tom. I appreciated your presence, sir.