Confessions of a Nerd, Volume IV

Originally published in The Righetti High School Legend, April 2009

As long as I=m being confessional, I might as well admit that as I type this piece, I am making frequent trips to my internet browser to post and chat on Facebook. This is shameful, alas, but true. I succumbed, after years of swearing to abstain from social networking, at approximately 4:59 p.m. on December 16, 2008. How that happened is a funny story, actually. I didn=t realize I was making a profile until I had almost finished it. That afternoon, I=d received an email that read ACyndi Vasquez wants to be your friend on Facebook!@ with a link to take to verify our friendship. Or so I thought. I thought I would just be allowing her to use my name in a list of friends, and I was so very flattered that I immediately clicked the link and began filling out the information on the site. As the questions got more personal than just the standard name, age, and e-mail address, realization slowly dawned upon me. But I couldn=t stop now! I=d come this far, and boy, were the years of peer pressure getting to me...

Now I have been a steady user for four months. Almost every day, I make my offering of time and energy to the Facebook gods, updating my Status Bar with narcissistic trifles; commenting on the actions of my friends; and playing pointless, yet addictive, games. Yet, for all the hours that I could have spent reading, doing homework, or curing cancer; and instead spent on Facebook, I have been, at times, rewarded.

My social life (I actually have one, now, gasp!) has really kicked off. Facebook connects me with friends I previously didn=t talk with much or know a lot about. And getting Afriend requests@ and friendly comments makes me feel more popular and likeable than I=ve ever felt before. I have enjoyed many great moments of Facebook social magic, but my space and your attention span is limited, so I=ll stick to what is probably the funniest bit of serendipity so far.

Last month, I was searching the network for Afan pages@ (basically, groups of nerds with a common interest) devoted to my favorite poets. Inspired by the romantic impulsiveness of the likes of Shelley and Byron, a long-buried wish to use Facebook to contact my long-lost elementary school crush (he moved away in sixth grade and broke my heart) resurfaced. Shaking and sweating, I typed his name into the search bar, pretending he was just another English writer or snack food (I also subscribe to the fan pages for curly fries and Oreos). And there he was, unmistakably the same boy even after seven years of separation. I dizzily messaged my friend Becky (with whom I=d just watched Dead Poets Society for the second-and-a-half time), asking her if I should send him a message, and she said ACARPEEEEEE DIIIEEEM!!!!!!@ So, I seized the day and sent him a rather self-conscious and breathless paragraph re-introducing myself. Phew!

I went to bed that night feeling giddy with satisfaction and anticipation of the reply, which was there the next day. It was genial, if poorly punctuated and severly lacking in the Aby the way, I=ve always loved you, let=s meet up again in a café and read Keats together@ department. I responded, cordially discussing our old crowd of friends and college prospects. I inevitably mentioned my love of the English Romantic poets (the aforementioned Byron, Shelley, and Keats) as I=ve been talking about them ceaselessly to anyone who=ll listen (and some who won=t) since I got into their poetry in January. His reply: AJohn keats huh? i cant get in to that guy, hes to doomy and gloomy for me, not to mention a son of a gun to comprehend.@

I exploded.

I sent the infidel a Keats sonnet that=s uplifting and sweet, trying to convince him that the poet wasn=t Adoomy and gloomy@ and besides, he had every right to be depressed, he was dying of tuberculosis at 25 and couldn=t marry his girlfriend... I quickly apologized for this assault, but apparently still scared my ex-crush away. It=s been about a month and I haven=t heard since.

I can=t say I=m terribly broken up. Finding out that he doesn=t like John Keats was pretty much the last thing I needed to get over him once and for all. In all honesty, I have a bigger crush on the long-dead Keats himself. It=s sad and pathetic, but true. I carry his complete works with me almost everywhere I go and fantasize about going back in time and curing his tuberculosis (and updating his ideas about women=s liberation). Recently, I even confessed some of these feelings on one of the many Romantic poetry-related Facebook groups I=ve joined

An unforseen consequence of this gushing was another bit of Aonly on Facebook@ magic. I actually got a reply saying Aget your hands off my man maya [sic]@ from someone claiming to be Fanny Brawne, the also long-dead fiancee of Keats. I stared at the screen in amazement for a few seconds, then burst out in guffaws. I posted the rebuttal: A...Shall I dignify that poorly punctuated attack with a reply? No, but I will. Bring it, ersatz Fanny!@ I felt both proud of my wit (Wouldn=t Jane Austen be proud! Ersatz is such a good word, means Aphony,@ by the way) and conscious of the utter ridiculousness of the situation. Here I was, in my first ever fight over the love of a boy and it was a virtual cat fight concerning a dead poet. Even Rod Serling, creator of The Twilight Zone would think this is weird

The Brawne impersonator has not yet replied to my post, but if she (or he) does, I=ll be ready to again wield the blade of superior wit. What utterly ludicrous fun! And so, despite all the time I=ve lost to Facebook, I=m glad I made an account. At the very least, it=s given me great material for this column.

"College-Level Insight" or something like it:

This piece is probably the crowning glory of my very short stint as a newspaper columnist. Not only was it a joy to write and quite well received; it brought me to a new understanding of the creative process. By this point in my career, I had begun to see my life from the perspective of a self-satirical writer -- constantly forming commentary and seizing upon irony and humor in any situation. As the events described in this particular column unfolded in real time (and I reached a new level of openness about my personal life), the resulting piece practically wrote itself.

I have certainly kept up this perspective, and accordingly my life has not decreased one jot in zaniness where Facebook, failed romance, and dead writers are concerned. I've gotten better at not shoving poetry down the throats of innocent civilians, though, and am probably much better tolerated by the majority of my acquaintances for it. I've also stopped "fanning" (though now I think it's "liking") all sorts of useless Facebook pages (Curly fries? Really? Ugh.) and only join groups in order to accomplish something tangible. Usually.

Confessions of a Nerd, Volume III

Originally published in The Righetti High School Legend, February 2009

As a nerd, I have come to see myself as outside of the mainstream. Being out of style is my style. With this contrarian attitude, it is truly a bizarre experience to find certain aspects of my nerdy image to be suddenly Ain fashion.@ Case in point: Aattitude glasses.@ I encountered this phenomenon in Claire=s. They had a whole rack of clear spectacles with thick plastic rims. No UV protection or anything! The idea, it would seem, is to wear fake eyeglasses as a fashion accessory. To someone who actually needs glasses to see properly, this is a strange, but slightly flattering concept. Is there really an allure in the image? Before I had to wear glasses, I actually wanted them. But once I had them, I felt unattractive and insecure in them (or, rather even more unattractive and insecure than I did without them B I had low self-esteem in junior high, like everyone else). I resisted wearing them until my vision deteriorated to the point of real necessity. Since I was unable to handle the discomfort of eye drops and therefore contact lenses, I just accepted my glasses and found relief in the fact that my period of wearing braces and neck gear had ceased. Had the two overlapped, what little respectability I had would surely have not existed.

Flash forward a couple years, and here I am witnessing the rise of Afashion@ glasses. Another trendy teen outfitter, Delia=s has them in their catalogue, as part of a two-page spread entitled Ageek chic.@ This phrase is an oxymoron no more; for Delia=s, Seventeen, and other fashion-followers are parading clothing and accessories that unfashionable folks like me have been into for years as in vogue. Fake spectacles are only the tip of the iceberg. Knee socks, high pants, suspenders, loafers, plaid, pleated skirts, blazers, and the whole Aprep school@ look are emerging on the fashion scene. Say what?

Well, I=ve always liked the school-uniform look, but I never expected the mainstream to agree with me. It=s a positive to be able to find the clothes I tend towards in trendy stores, but it=s weird. I=m more of a discount-rack shopper anyway.

But the Ageek chic@ movement is more than clothing, it seems. While I=ve never seen the T.V. show Ugly Betty, I=ve been compared to its protagonist four times within the last year or so (before I cut my hair.) Each person (two of them total strangers on the street!) followed their comment with some sort of apology/justification: AShe=s not really ugly...,@, AErm, I meant your personality...,@ etc. It=s still a left-handed compliment or a right-handed insult, or whatever, but I guess it shows that nerds can at least be the stars of shows these days, instead of just the comic relief. And maybe get a modicum of respect. That=s something. And maybe t-shirts with the slogan ANerds are Hot@ on them are only the beginning. I say with guarded optimism that the world may be finely taking note of the worth of intelligence.

But, in watching the rise of socially accepted nerdiness, part of me feels a bit defensive. I mean, I=ve gotten used to being outside of the loop. I=ve decided that I don=t even want to be in it! What do I do when the loop comes to me? And hey, how long is it before I have to put up with poser nerds? Part of me felt flattered by those Aattitude glasses@ but the other part scoffed. But I dismissed my scoffing part. I mean, how hypocritical! My whole gripe with the Ain crowds@ of the world is the scoffing tendency to sweep people aside as fakes or failures.

With all this inner squabbling, maybe I=m really having an identity crisis of sorts. Well, I suppose the thing to do is to stop defining myself by other people and just define myself by me. OK, sure. Sounds awfully mature. But I=ve got a lifetime ahead of me to be mature and only two years left to be a teenager. So I=ll horribly paraphrase Robert Herrick and say, Afollow ye fashion magazines while ye may.@

"College-Level Insight" or something like it:

I recall being unsure of how to end this essay and really pulling that Robert Herrick misquote out of nowhere. One of my many mottos: When you don't know what to do, use poetry!

I'm pretty proud of the art in this one. I mean, look at that shading! I never shade anymore. I thought the flat color look better fitting of my cartoons, but maybe I've just been lazy...this looks pretty good. Maaaaaybe I'll go back sometime. Also, photo juxtaposing has serious merit.

And what about the content, Miss College Student? Eh...I think it's good stuff. There's nothing I can think to add to the subject at the moment. Maybe in these two years, I've really and truly grown beyond that stage and reached the maturity I was measuredly avoiding in that last paragraph. Whoa!

Confessions of a Nerd, Volume II

Originally published in The Righetti High School Legend, I think it was November 2008

I may be a nerd, but unfortunately I=m not a geek. For all my academic enthusiasm and eccentricity, I have no special talents with technology. I=m not that good with computers. In fact, I kind of suck when it comes to navigating the internet. This is a bit embarrassing. I mean, I can get by all right most of the time, I=m no technophobe. But marginal competence just doesn=t cut it in today=s society, not for a nerd. Case in point: my first ipod.

It started out so nicely. Just months ago, I finally bought myself an ipod, and it was one of the brand-new Nanos, you know, the ones with the screens that turn around and that come in all the colors of the rainbow (I chose purple). In my excitement, I became hasty and only skimmed the instructions. That=s how these nice experiences go so wrong so fast. Anyway, I plugged it into my computer and was flummoxed when my music library failed to download. And even more flummoxed by the sudden beeping and error messages that popped up on my computer screen. I looked at my ipod=s screen and saw that the letters of the menu were scrambled. I panicked and disconnected the ipod. It froze. Stupid machine!

I wasn=t about to take such technological mutiny sitting down. I grabbed the Geek Squad brochure that I got with my insurance plan and set out to call for assistance. After some flipping, I determined that their number was actually just 1-800-GEEKSQUAD. I picked up the old-fashioned faux rotary phone that hands in our kitchen and dialed 1800GEEKSB and stopped. There was no AQ@ on the dial. Not on the whole face of the phone. ARG!

One spaz-out later, I found Best Buy=s number on my receipt and called it. I asked to be put through to a Geek Squad representative. Before explaining the issue with my ipod, I accosted the rep with what I thought was an even bigger problem. I mean, who knows how many people have tried to call Geek Squad only to discover that the number cannot exist in the apparent absence of Q=s on phones? I cleared my throat and said AI tried to call you directly, but there is no Q on the phone.@ And just what kind of scam are you trying to pull, you rip-off artist? I very nearly added. It=s a good thing I didn=t; I=d already embarrassed myself enough. For, as the not-actually-a-con-artist told me, the Q is on the seven. At least on all the other phones in the universe but mine.

But it gets worse. After hearing me explain my problems, the rep told me to bring the ipod in. It was so messed up, I eventually just exchanged for a new one. That time, I read all the instructions. I made an important discovery, too. Ipods aren=t compatible with Windows Media Player. Whoops. You=re supposed to download itunes. Double-whoops.

So, it turns out that my original ipod wasn=t a lemon. I messed it up myself trying to use Windows Media Player to import my music. Why are these electronic things so complicated?

Maybe it=s just me. I=m behind the times. I mean, just look at the music I eventually put on that ipod! The Beatles. The Doors. Bob Dylan. Donovan. And they=re among the newer artists on there. I=ve also got Duke Ellington, Glenn Miller, and Charlie Parker. It=s not just music; I love just about anything Avintage.@ I mean, for all its lack of a Q I love that rotary phone. Heck, if I=d picked out our phone it=d probably be one of those two-piece 1920's ones with a crank. Could this penchant for old-fashioned things be somehow connected to my mediocre ability to adapt to modern technology? Hmm...

"College-Level Insight" or something like it:

Yeah, I'm still technologically challenged. I just re-published this post four times because transferring the essay from Microsoft Word gave me unwanted indentions that I couldn't figure out how to undo. I'm still not sure how I finally got rid of them...

I still have the same ipod, though I have way more music than will fit on it now. I've expanded my tastes to include more music from my own lifetime, as well, but I haven't gotten rid of any of those old faves! If I wasn't saving up for my trip to Russia in which I will single-handedly lift the nation from economic decay by the sheer amount of nesting dolls and fuzzy hats I will buy, I'd shell out for an ipod with more memory.

Grammar Girl re-post

I noticed that the comic strip in the last post came out too small to read. Here I have separated the panels for enlargement. My artistic skills have improved since then, I swear...just look at those messy panel borders! I hope I was going for some kind of stylistic statement there...

Haha...only in my cartoon fantasies can I pull off a Supergirl mini-dress. Also note how I snuck in a dig at Twilighters, though I didn't ever bother with their posters at school (just dreamed of it). And I routinely drew my comic self wearing a Kid Flash t-shirt (later with the symbol made into a heart), though I've never owned one (I'd like to though, but they're hard to find).

Confessions of a Nerd, Volume I

Originally published in the Righetti High School Legend, September 2008

As the name of my column implies, I am a nerd. I sleep with a dictionary and a thesaurus by my bed. I had the name of my favorite element on the periodic table (antimony) custom embroidered on the back of my Converse high-tops. I have a 93-volume collection of graphic novels and I freak out if any of their pages get bent. Heck, I=m in the school marching band, carry an inhaler and wear glasses. That just about seals the stereotype.

It=s not easy being a nerd. One need only watch a bit of T.V. to see how often we get mistreated. Nerdy characters get ostracized and beaten up by other characters. And to add insult to swirly-induced injury, mainstream television writers tend to portray anyone with glasses or a penchant for chess as an unappealing snobbish mouth-breather with little or no redeeming qualities beyond intellect.

But nerdiness has an upside. School is infinitely easier when one actually enjoys learning. If there=s a secret to getting straight A=s, it is probably enthusiasm. And as one spends the majority of one=s young life in school, liking school seems the sensible option for staying sane as well.

For me, now that I=ve overcome the intensely awkward days of elementary school and junior high, I=m enjoying being an overachiever and I=ve come to terms with my tendency to obsess. I=m reclaiming the word Anerd@ and made it a part of my identity.

Possibly it is another mark of my nerdish nature that when writing an introduction to an entertainment column, I produce a small manifesto. This space will feature life as seen through my bespectacled eyes, in words and pictures. Watch as I get lost on campus (in my senior year), blunder my way through installing an ipod, and flounder to meet deadlines.

I had also planned to also do a comic strip for The Legend, but only did one for the first issue. It's based on a true story:

Note: The "Old Sport" t-shirt on my self-portrait is a reference to The Great Gatsby. If you got that on your own, I applaud your nerdiness!

"College-Level Insight" or something like it:

God, I love meta-commentary. Here goes.

I think this little column (they got longer and longer as the year went on...) still stands as a strong piece of work, surprisingly. I'm usually harsh on my old writings. In the two years since I've written this, I have done what I set out to do -- fully embraced being a nerd. I have also found other communities of nerds with similar intentions: All hail the Vlogbrothers and Nerdfighteria! I joined that community as well as the ultimate nerd commune: The University of California, Berkeley. There is so much ambient nerd-ness on that campus that I felt, well, out-nerded. But even there, I've found my place. And added a bunch comic books to that ninety-three volume collection. I don't even want to know how many I have now.

By the way, I absolutely SUCK at chess. My ten-year-old brother routinely trounces me.

Welcome to my head

In my senior of high school, I joined the school newspaper on a whim. It was a great class and learning experience for me. I became the editor of the creative section and had my own personality column entitled "Confessions of a Nerd", which became very popular among readers (kids on campus as well as teachers would tell me that they picked up the newspaper just to read my column. I felt very flattered, but a little sorry for the rest of the newspaper -- there was some good stuff in there they might have been missing!)

Many times I was also told that I should start a blog. Well, two years later I'm finally doing just that! I will re-post my columns with new college-level insight (sort of), as well as artwork, unpublished columns, and continued autobiographical bits that I still create from time to time to keep my writing skills fresh (and hopefully entertain an audience).

Friends old and new (and strangers, too!), I hope you enjoy my continuing confessions!