Oh dear god. The worst has happened. I have crossed the line from geek to nerd. I not only answered someone’s saying “Groo?” with “No cheesedip”, I also didn’t blink when they then told me they meant it as an onomatopoeic. This while carrying on a conversation in another window entirely in archaic language.
I think it’s the cheesedip what damns me. Next thing I’ll be dressing up like Linsners Dawn and swanning around conventions with people dressed as stormtroopers in lingerie. The thought gives me the Fear. Maybe I’ll be lucky and only catch the edges of postmodern sleaze. Cross fingers, knock on wood. I am more than satisfied with pictures of such events. I’m sure they’re fun, but as I don’t drink, there would be nothing to take the edge off my awareness. I think I would need that.
I think….. Actually…. I think it’s the kids today. They’re far worse than usual. Two of the girls have discovered that saying they’re bleeding all over thier keyboards from cutting gets them attention from the boys thought of as “cute” in the chatroom. (The deciding logic of who wants to date who escapes me). Particularly annoying to me is that the head “cute” boy is a severe fundie. So chat runs mainly today between the cutters and the fundies interspersed with the usual mind scraping talk about teen celebraties, pokemon, and in-chat dating. I’m tongue tied. If I say even one of the things that occurs to me in such a situation, I’m sure I’ll lose my job.
Bring me gelati before I die.