N.E.R.D is not a Bad Word.

I was thinking about how it seems as though my new friends have to now learn to equate Nerd with a good thing, as I use the word (as a good thing) constantly.

“What’s up?” “Nm, just nerding out and watching anime.” O_0

“hahaha” “hahaha, we’re such nerds” ….. 0_O

I honestly don’t see being a nerd as a bad thing, and in fact believe that it’s more of a compliment, but I don’t really remember that other people don’t quite see it as a compliment, and it takes them a minute to realize that I’m not being a jerk, or mean, or whatever. But my friends are learning now ūüėÄ

So I was thinking, how could it be put so that it would seem like a better thing?

Aha! Why not make it into an acronym?

Acronyms are cool. They are, really.

So Sanity pipes up with “Never, Ending…”

I say “Ride…. Never ending ride of… d…”

and Insanity says “DOOM!”

Immediately other sich d-words pop into my head.

Doom. Destruction. Disbelief. Detrimental. Duh.

None of these words will help in the process to make Nerd not be a Bad Word.

Huh. Nerd not be a bad word sounds a bit like a weird alliteration.

Alliteration is cool too.

Other D words, after some thought, would be Delight, or Daisy… or…

Well, Never Ending Ride of Delight sounds too weird in a way that even makes me laugh and think “aha, um, seriously? no.”

So maybe an Acronym wouldn’t be the best…

Aha! A spokesperson! That would be good…

So I Googled “Hot Nerd”, and saw the perfect spokesperson to why being a nerd, or being nerdy, isn’t a bad thing.

Aah, David Tennant...

He’s been in Harry Potter (Barty Crouch Jr.), Doctor Who (the 10th Dr. Who), Hamlet (as Hamlet, and he even got to act with Patrick Stewart), voice acted in How to Train Your Dragon (was Spitelout), played Casanova in the Casanova miniseries (in I think 2005?), is Peter in Fright Night, and has been in SOOO many different things, but is still a nerd! look him up on iMDb if you don’t believe me.

How can you even THINK that being a nerd would be a bad thing if we’ve got David Tennant on our side?

And thus, all arguments are defeated.

(Here are some Harry Potter Pickup Lines for the newly accepting of nerdlyness readers! >> HERE <<)

Gone, Gone, Going…? Now? No. … Now?

I am currently waiting for laundry to be done, and feeling alternating feelings (no duh) of chest constricting stress and  fluttery anxiety, and chest constricting anticipation and fluttery excitement.

I leave for Grundy Park tomorrow, probably at the crack of dawn should I ask Dad now, and I am starting and finishing my packing today.

Yes I’m late, but I’m a procrastinator almost by nature. I’m procrastinating¬†waiting for laundry to be done, because a while ago, I had my laundry waiting for me to bring it upstairs, and it was sitting in front of our freezer, which was left open, and it leaked.

I moved my stuff after it got wet, and left it down there to be done again when the washer was next free.

Mold grew.

I washed it twice.

I am washing it again, to get the sour-ish smell from it before I go.

I am not packing my stuff into a suitcase, because¬†my Mom says that it’d be easier to pack in the car if it were in these huge, 3fx1fx2f¬†ish plastic bins, so I have a plastic bin¬†in my room, in the hall outside of my room, one downstairs by my nearly-done laundry, and one in the front room of my house.

Scratch that, I have TWO (Three)¬†in the front room, because I need one separate for sleeping things such as sheets and pj’s.

It feels very much so as if I should be going right now, but then the chest crushing gets tighter with the feeling of Holy-I’m-Not-DONE-PACKING! untill I reassure myself and my insane part that no, we aren’t leaving right yet.

And then the sane part of me thinks of something.

What if I forget something!!!

Insane hears this as well, and slaps Sane on the head.

It’s because we’re not done PACKING! Get to work we’ve got like an hour to get everything together and in the car!

 Sane runs into a wall.

DOOM!

No, we aren’t leaving untill tomorrow, I reassure myself. And Laundry cannot be rushed.

And so I stand in front of the Door of Panic with my trusty Gandalf Wizard Staff solidly blocking the way.

From myself.

*sigh* Am I sure that there is actually an insane side, and it’s not just me?

Yes. I just happen to be strongly influenced by myInsane side when writing. Every writer has this part of them, it just so happens that mine feels the need to talk to me occassionally.

Insane people are in Sane people, and neither part are going past me to the Panic Room, because a)nothing gets done there, and b) NONE SHALL PASS!

All LOTR Gandalf the Grey jokes and references aside, I shall finish the Laundry of Impending Doom, cut it down to be hidden away in the Boxes of Plastic Containment, sealed away untill they are needed to fight the foe called Nakedness.

Shoot I gotta find myself some nail clippers, and perhaps a few more pairs of wool work socks.

Did you know that Costco has awesome underwear on sale? You wouldn’t think so, but they are comfortable.

A while ago, how many days ago matters not, Mum brought me to Costco to stock up on food items that will help in my quest of survival for the coming 2 months.

Working at a park is different from working as a Ranger in many ways, and one of which is that we don’t have chefs to cook and buy¬†our food.

¬†For the last couple of weeks Dad has been storing away chili¬†and stew and hamburger patties in the freezer, either in sealed plastic¬†bags or in Tupperware , so that for at least the first two weeks of no-trips-into-town-to-buy-food I might be able to survive. I am extremely thankful that we get a lot of freezer space at Grundy (everyone, not just me, though I’d like to believe I AM that special).

I will also be leaving with print out and digital recipes of such things as stew, easy stroganoff (which is not a loose, sexually active Swedish general), salsa-couscous chicken, and many-layered salads.

We bought juice,¬†meat, some veggies, cookies (the important things), underwear (they’re nice ūüėÄ Sane: Don’t SAY that! Insane: BWAHAHA!)¬†, and a whole slew of bread for me to make my main source of sustenance for during the day: Sandwiches.

To the sound of Pocahontas’ “Savages”:

Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Hardly ever Eaten! Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Where is my Mayonnaise?!

Credited to my friends (from rangers)¬†sister. Google Map Delta. It’s a place. They live there.¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† ūüėÄ

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

No.

Food is packed away, and I think that I’ll go through the plastic bins tha I have already and sort out the mixes of shirts, sweaters, pants, and shorts from in them.

I will probably have way more than I need, but…

Rather have more than I need than not enough.

Right.

 BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IS FORGOTTEN???!!!

No. Grundy is 4 hours or so away, and the Parents will be visiting fairly regularly! Back!!! Back from the gates of Panic!

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

¬†So tomorrow I’m gone, or going, or whatever, and I’ll probably be freaking out.

By the end of the first week I’ll likely be fine, but then I’ll start being paranoid about what, exactly I’ll have forgotten.

Because I will have forgotten SOMETHING.

But that is edging around my Gandalf staff, (BWAHA!), so we shall move on.

I was procrastinating a bit earlier, reading one of the books I liberated from my Mom’s school (they have a better library, and because she’s a teacher there, she can take them out over the summer), called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. The link will bring you to his site on it.

It’s good.

Like, Really good.

Most times I can predict what will happen at the end of the book by the time I get through the first 3-5 chapters, and I had a bit of¬†a feeling about what would happen, but so many things happened that promised a slightly different outcome,¬†I couldn’t put it down.

Of course, since Lexy probably won’t be reading this untill I’m long gone, I can freely admit that instead of folding laundry a bit earlier, i was reading this. I put it away any time someone came down to the basement, and started fiddling with laundry.

I still got a lot done, even while reading it.

…Weird.

The dryer just made it’s¬†“I’m-done” jingle noise (sounds a bit like a small part of an ice-cream¬†truck’s jingle), and this is getting kind of long, so I’ll bid you all goodbye for now. Whether I post small segments about my work for the next 2 months depends on if the claim to internet access is true or not.

Ciao!

~Doodled93~

Insane: THERE’S NO MORE TIME!

P.S. Afterthought: It is now about¬†10:28 pm, and I pretty much have everything packed, but I look at my 2 bins of clothing, my 1/4 bin of work clothes, and my slightly bursting bin of sleeping¬†stuff (it has a sleeping bag and pillow in it), and I feel I am missing a lot. Clothing-wise. I know I am not anywhere done my toiletries packing, as i currently have only JUST put the all-important nail clippers in my tinier¬†toiletries¬†bin, and I have no swim towel, no shower towel, and all of my electronics (including an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT digital alarm clock) are scattered around my house. Mostly uncharged too. Anyone else finish packing and look at your stuff and thing “nope. Not done.”? Also, pj’s is underlined in red, as well as bin. That is rediculous!

*THUNK* AAAAAH! Save the Birds

Today I was startled from working on Part 2 of my Woofstock post by a startling noise combination.

*Thunk*

AAAAAAHHHH!

And then general sounds of bustling around.

I had thought that perhaps someone in my family unfamiliar (like one of my parents, or Emma) with how to use our chuck-it (a ball flinger) had jokingly gestured with it towards our back deck, and, in the way luck usually goes, a ball was flung at one of our windows and the rebound nearly hit Lexy.

Maybe on the back of her head, maybe on her arm, but I was picturing it as it was nearly hitting her in the head.

No, not because I have secret wishes of violence towards Lexy, but because it is usually the worst possible (and most times most amusing) situation that runs through my head.

So I ran to the back door, expecting someone injured (possibly) and someone embarrassed (possibly), and likely someone laughing.

If no one was there to laugh, I feel a bit as if I would have been the one to laugh, after asking the needed “what’s wrong?”.

That was not the case.

No laughing.

No.

I looked out our screen door and saw Lexy pulling and excited looking Gwynn off of our back porch, and Mom and Dad looking worried.

It is at this point that I should tell you that my actual first thought about what the *THUNK* noise was, was that it was a bird, as many, many birds end up hitting into the window right next to the computer, and then fly away. occasionally a lesser *THIK* will hit the window, and it will turn out to be a rather large bug.

But this happens regularly, the *THUNK* fly away.

Less, now, that we have shadow stickers on our windows, but I’ll get more on that later.

But it was the following “AAH!” that threw me off, as well as a moment of poor directional hearing.

Here is a picture of the window by the computer in our living room.

To the left, if you could see below it, there would be the porch, and my sister sitting in a chair right below it...

The window that¬†I thought the bird had hit was the one to the right. After I heard Lexy yell I thought that a ball had hit the window, not a bird, and that, as¬†I said earlier, it hit Lexy (prompting the “Aah!”).

But back to the story. Lexy was pulling Gwynn away, and dad was not looking happy. In front of one of the chairs was a little yellow thing.

As you can see, this was no ball...

It was not a Ball.

And it was obvious why Gwynn was looking so excited.

He probably thought it was a chew toy that came from above.

Mom thought we should probably move it, but Dad was pretty stern in saying “NO.”

I remember last summer I was working up near Thunder Bay at a dock, cleaning off the underside of boats to prevent invasive species from spreading, and a woodpecker flew into a door. I was fairly far away at the time, and was pretty worried, but before I could get there, some people started crowding around.

One guy had the bright idea to try to pick it up.

The stunned woodpecker had enough energy to recognize that it was injured, and a large THING was touching it, so it did what any injured and confused animal would do.

It fled.

Flew a fair distance too, right into the edge of a dock, whereupon it sunk in the water.

So Mom did not move the bird. It was a good idea, at least in the mindset that Gwynn was still looking longingly at the bird, but we just took him inside for untill the bird left.

It did not move for a while either, but I could see its beak moving, probably from it freaking out.

We left it alone, making dinner (which had SOME mild interaction with it, since it was right in front of our bbq, and we needed it to make dinner), and I thought it had died from shock, since I couldn’t see its beak moving anymore.

It’s legs were pulled up tight to its body, and it’s beak wasn’t moving. I wasn’t about to feel and see if it’s chest was moving, so Dad suggested/Told us to leave it alone still.

I left for a while, and then, TADA! It wasn’t on its side anymore! It was just sitting on our porch!

HE LIVES! For now...

 It was very exciting, and dad was quick to point out that he was right in leaving it alone.

But it wasn’t moving after that.

What a great thing to happen on Father’s day, huh? And right in front of Dad too… But then again, it happened pretty much ON TOP of Lexy, so at least it isn’t as bad as it could have been.

I left again, after taking the picture, very happy that the little guy was living.

I have to admit that the reason why I decided to take pictures in the first place (besides the fact that I now have bloggeritis, a disease that says “take a picture, and write about it!”), was because if it didn’t live I was going to write a memorial Blog for it, and encourage people to put shadow stickers on their windows, but, it seems like the little guy had a will for life.

The next time I checked, he was still there, and even the time after that, and I was kind of worried about him possibly being dead even after standing up (“If I have to die be some strange bit of solid air, I’m gonna do it standing, dammit!”), but on the third check, he wasn’t there.

Now here’s where the crazy and sane parts of me kick in.

Sane: “YES! He LIVES! Fly Free and Alive Cute Yellow One!”

Insane: “Oh my GOD! Gwynn got out and ATE HIM!”

I happily told Mom and Dad about the fact that the bird was gone, since, the Sane part of me said that if Gwynn had gotten out, SOMEONE would have noticed, right?

Insane: “OhMyGOD! Hunter ATE¬†HIM!!”

Sane went quiet.

For those of you who don’t know, Hunter is the stray black cat with green eyes that hunts around my back yard. He walks like a hunter, which is why I call him that, and he kills the pigeons in our backyard. Also, he walks like a villain in a children’s¬†movie, like Edgar from Arisocats.

Mom calmed me down by saying that yeah, he few off a few minutes ago.

Sane breathed a sigh of relief, even as Insane muttered about how the Yellow One was safe, but the Pigeons probably weren’t.

I put off finishing off my Woofstock Pt 2 post to tell people about this struggle (?) for life, and about the hazards our windows pose for our feathered neighbors.

If you scroll up to the picture of the two windows by my computer, you will notice the shadowish looking bird shadow on the window to the right. That was put there so that it would show that there was something solid there, or at least something that the birds should avoid (hence the predator-bird shape, rather than a sparrow or something).

If you have window space that is clear , and have nothing in the way of it, please put up a sticker, or some other indication thing on your windows.

They do not damage your windows, and you don’t have to get them wet or sticky to put them on, though it is suggested to put them on the inside of your window rather than the outside.

Save your feathered friends the trauma of hitting a window.

It’s not a nice sound, and it is rather startling to see little poufs of feathers floating away, as once happened when a Bluejay hit the window.

That bird was well enough to fly away immediately (Insane muttered about the unfairness that none of the pretty feathers fell off, only the grey blah looking tiny ones), and this Yellow Finch today managed to fly away after about an hour of sitting in shock, but it is always a worry that some day Hunter will get a free snack, thanks to one of our windows.

Check out this site and this birding site  for some more ways to keep birds from hitting your windows.

Also, if you notice, hitting something when you are unaware of it is much more painful than if you notice it at the last second. Windows are always clear to birds, and it has the bad joke at the end in the fact that they still don’t know what hit them afterwards.

Not all birds are like Angry Bird, and can go through things like that.

He's angry because his brethren are being held up to his unrealistic standard! He will not stand for this!

 Save the Birds!

Buy a sticker!