Nerds

My name is Rennay and I'm a nerd.

It feels good to admit it. That's the first step, I've heard. So there it is: I am a nerd. I'm not a pocket-protector-wearing, lives-in-my-mom's-basement, indulges-in-role-playing-games kind of nerd, but rather a can-carry-on-a-conversation-and-has-basic-social-skills nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.

I thought I had my nerdiness under control but this weekend I realized that I really don't. The kids were each at sleepovers, Bryce was at a hockey tournament, and I had the house to myself. I could have done anything, gone anywhere. What did I do? I did put some time in on the elliptical (which is impressive) and then I read my book for a few hours. Then I read Carmen's book because I had told her Judy Blume was my favourite growing up and I couldn't remember the story line to back up that claim. Then I did about 10 crossword puzzles, both online and ones I print off from the newspaper. Lastly, I played a little online Boggle. That was an eye opener -- it turns out I'm still the geeky kid who brought books on road trips and worked hard in school and got annoyed by typos on billboards.

But is it really so bad to read a couple books a week or play Scrabble or jot down words I don't know so I can look them up later (too far?) or get so excited to see Carmen devouring books like I did and do or get revved up about new episodes of Big Bang Theory? It could be worse. Hell, we nerds can be cool. We've just got to lose the pocket protectors.