Stalking PAX Prime

Last night, I was all settled in for a lovely semi-marathon of BBC's London Hospital. Little Guy was down for the count. The house was reasonably clean. And Mr. Dude was out with friends to watch the new Captain America movie.

[As an aside, I was supposed to go to that movie, too, but we couldn't get a babysitter in time. So I couldn't watch the latest iteration in a never-ending parade of superhero/comic book-based movies. Oh darn.]

And then I get this text message:

Grammatical errors aside [because I'm one of those annoying people who try to make sure even my text messages have proper capitalization, punctuation, etc.], this pretty much sums up my weekend. 

Stalking PAX Prime tickets. 

Mr. Dude [who really is listed in my phone as "Yours Truly" ... and who chose a ridiculous profile picture based on a meme] knows that historically, PAX Prime tickets are announced very soon after PAX East in Boston has concluded. 

So the man who has a Twitter handle and never uses it turned on notifications for @Official_Pax a week ago to be sure he could rush to a computer at a moment's notice to get one of the coveted 4 Day Passes. Since PAX East was this weekend, there's been a tweet every. freakin'. 30. seconds.  

That's a lot of notifications on his phone, people. 

And a lot of times for my heart to start racing, waiting to hear him yell out, "To the interwebs!" 

And a lot of times of not knowing when I'm going to have to drop everything [except for maybe the 1 year old Little Guy ... I love my husband, but I draw the line there] to run to my computer and basically live out this scene: 

Key Difference that Mr. Dude would like you to note: They're trying to get into Comicon in San Diego. Not PAX. 

I actually offered [!!!] to go to Emerald City Comicon last month and he refused. 

Why?

"That's for a bunch of nerds, Stephanie."

Riiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhttttt ... 

[Updated: Apparently I should use the interwebs for some of my proofreading. You know, so that I can discover that it's spelled "Comicon" instead of "ComiCon" ... like I tried to do the first time around.] 

Mommy Brain > Math Fail

Mr. Dude and I often debate about lots of things, particularly Washington vs. California, since those are our respective birth places. Maybe "mock each other about our respective birth places" is more accurate.

Don't worry - it doesn't mean our marriage is on the rocks. We've been doing that ever since we were "just friends" and arguing about everything. [By the way, being able to argue about anything and still be friends and on the same team afterwards is a highly valuable skill in marriage.]

One topic in particular: schooling.

God bless the man, but he went to school in Washington, the land of the rednecks. And I like to remind him of it. Often. Also, it helps that his undergraduate degree was a B.S. and his master's was an M.S. [ie, "More of the Same"], so I've got lots of material to banter about with him.

But I should probably start learning to hold my tongue, since "Mommy Brain" is affecting me more than I'd like to admit.

Why?

Because now apparently I can't do simple math.

Never mind the fact that I've taken calculus and I'm the daughter of a high school math teacher.

Parenthood Equation: "Mommy Brain" > Stephanie's Mathematical Knowledge

Little Guy turned 8 months old on the 6th [we've kept a human alive for eight whole months ... woohoo!] and I made a passing comment about his age while we were playing on the floor.

Me: Little Guy, you turned 8 months yesterday. That means we're 75% of the way to your first birthday!
Mr. Dude: You mean 9 months, Stephanie.
Me: No, he's 8 months now.
Mr. Dude: I know. Nine months would be 75%; he's only two thirds of the way to his first birthday.
Me: What are you talking about? Eight over twelve is 75%, Dude!
Mr. Dude: Stephanie, nine over twelve is three quarters.
Me: [insert awkward silence] Oh ... you're right. Drats!
Mr. Dude: So about that Washington schooling, eh Stephanie? Man, I've been waiting for his day for a looong time!
Me: Can I have some more coffee now? Apparently I really need it. 

This is where I insert foot in mouth and start wondering if I should be worried about "Mommy Brain" affecting anything else important. You know, like speaking and writing and thinking in general.

The Nerdy Christmas Un-Gifting Guide, Part 2

Oh, handmade gifts. 

They are either awesome and just what the person wanted, or they are incredibly tacky and very quickly headed to a local thrift shop. 

They can be a fantastic way to save money and give something meaningful, or they somehow end up costing a fortune. 

Handmade gifts are apparently extremists. 

In the latest installment of "Where on earth does Mr. Dude find this stuff?", I present to you the handmade gift I will not be undertaking this holiday season: 

Source: Imgur

No, seriously, where does he find this stuff?!

I can hear him protest now:

"But, Stephanie! It's a mix of Portal and BioShock Infinite! It's AWESOME!"

I don't care if I like the score of the BioShock games or if you think that Portal would be a good "gateway" game for me because it's a giant puzzle. 

I love you enough to spend my time making something else instead, like pumpkin pie. 

Sure, you couldn't hang up the pumpkin pie at your office like you could with this cross-stitched wonder, and I do like me a good embroidery project. 

Still. 

You're not getting this for Christmas, either, Mr. Dude. Lo siento. 

The Nerdy Christmas Un-Gifting Guide, Part 1

[Like every blogger (and their mom) this time of year, you gotta put out a gift guide in time for the holidays. Most of them will tell you what you should buy for this group or that one. As the wife of a nerd, I know there's a give and take to when I simply shake my head and smile about what he puts on his wish list versus when I put my foot down and say, "Absolutely NOT!" Thus, I'm here to tell you what items I won't be buying for my very nerdy husband, no matter how awesome he may think they are.]

Mr. Dude has a very (for him) fortunate birthday of a few days before Christmas. Most kids would be scared of their birthday being overshadowed by everything holiday, but Mr. Dude loved it.

He liked having so many decorations and lights and songs and parties all around the time he was celebrating another year of life. Plus, it's meant that he's gotten some pretty epic presents over the years when people combine birthday and Christmas budgets.

Case in point: the latest graphics cards, super quiet power supplies, terabyte hard drives ... it makes it rather easy for all of our parents and sisters to go in on an otherwise expensive gift when it's one item for both occasions from all of us that we've seen on his Amazon wish list.

Computer upgrades? Those I can handle.

Minecraft light from the ThinkGeek booth at PAX?

Source: ThinkGeek

Oh sure. I was actually present when he bought it.

Full size replica Portal gun?

Eh, I didn't really have a choice on that - he bought it without telling me he was going to.

[But, Stephanie! They only made 1000 of them, and they're already going for hundreds of dollars on ebay!"]

But Star Trek: Next Generation uniform hoodies?

Source: ThinkGeek, and yours for only $59.99! Working combadge and pips not included, unfortunately. 

In the words of Grumpy Cat:

Source: MemeGenerator.net

I can only go so far, Mr. Dude and dressing in costume outside of PAX, ComiCon or Halloween definitely doesn't make the cut.

So no, these won't be under the tree or in your stocking. Don't get your hopes up.

More Nerdy Christmas Un-Gifting Guide items to come ... 

Giraffe Nonsense and Snarkiness

Giraffes are cool.

But not cool enough to make me change my picture on Facebook.

Social media gimmicks are most decidedly not cool.

I use Facebook as a way of keeping in touch with various people, and occasionally post ridiculous, and usually very impersonal, thoughts.

But if you ask me to play Candy Crush Saga, copy and paste a status, or "like" a picture so that something amazing will happen, I will ignore you. I promise.

So there I was, scrolling through my news feed, when lo and behold, a bunch of people had suddenly turned into giraffes!

What the whaaaa ????

Oh. It's one of those "everyone is doing it, so I will, too" gimmicks. Probably just something else to ignore.

Try the great giraffe challenge! The deal is I give you a riddle. You get it right you get to keep your profile pic. You get it wrong and you change your profile pic to a Giraffe for the next 3 days. MESSAGE ME ONLY SO YOU DONT GIVE OUT THE ANSWER.Here is the riddle: 3:00 am, the doorbell rings and you wake up. Unexpected visitors, It's your parents and they are there for breakfast. You have strawberry jam, honey, wine, bread and cheese. What is the first thing you open?Remember... message me only. If you get it right I'll post your name here. If you get it wrong change your profile picture.

Yep. Definitely just something else to ignore.

And then, I saw it. Even she had given in.

A college roomie - with her bachelor's of science in biology, a master's degree, pending medical school applications and all - had changed her identity to that of Giraffa camelopardalis. 

I decided that if she was going to give in, then I'd bite. But with pizzazz. 

If you're with me for an hour, you'll know that I love to cook. If you're with me for just 5 minutes, you'll know that I'm snarky. Sarcastic. Irritatingly meticulous about loopholes and technicalities. And slightly ridiculous. 

So here was my answer to the riddle: 

Eyeballs ... you have to open your eyeballs. I guess technically it's your eyelids - you get the point. But the riddle only supposes that I'd give in to my automatic reflex since I'm not blind. If I WAS blind, then would I still automatically open my eyelids? Or would I keep them closed since my body knows that it doesn't utilize that sense anyways? And it could be the door if I manage not to open my eyelids, but that assumes that I"m not sleeping underneath covers, so you could argue that you have to "open" your bed, in a manner of speaking, in order to get out of it. But if you're one of those weird people who doesn't sleep with any sheets or covers, then you'd have to open your bedroom door, if it's closed, and then your front door (if that's where your parents are ringing the doorbell from - some people may put their doorbell at the backdoor). Ooh, I almost forgot - what if you need to open your closet to get out a robe, slippers, etc, in order to answer your parents' ring? Heck, on the way out to the door, you may need to open the liquor cabinet to get a stiff dose of courage, depending on what kind of a relationship you have with your parents. Or maybe you need to open the fridge for a snack since you shouldn't store jam at room temperature in warm conditions (you could be in Florida in this scenario, you know). Since they're unexpected visitors at 3 am, and you haven't answered the door yet, maybe you need to open your firearms safe? It could be a sketchy neighborhood, you know. Seriously. So many holes in this riddle that it's ridiculous. No WONDER you have to change your profile picture to a giraffe if you get it wrong.

You know, if I wasn't the mother of a young child, you'd think I had too much time on my hands.