Thursday, May 31, 2012

Back to the future?... past?... present?...

And THAT, my friends, is why time travel makes you shit at grammar!

Okay, so maybe it's less time travel and more my shitty grammar that makes me shit at grammar ... but my point still stands!

But I digress.

Lately I've been thinking about time travel.  Not in an "I'm an insane person who's going to gaffa tape a mobile phone an a shit load of plutonium to a vintage car and try to get myself blown up" kind of way, more in a "Hmm, I wonder what I'd do first if The Doctor's blue box landed in my front yard and offered to take me anywhere/when" kind of way.

So, after careful deliberation, here is my list of places I'd want to go if time travel was cheap, reliable and guaranteed to not rip a hole in the space/time continuum if I accidentally meet my seven year old self and pat her on the head.

1.  The Athenian Agora:  Ooh, time to learn something new about me!  Did you know I've got a degree in archaeology?  True bananas!  When I decided I was bored and wanted to go back to school, I looked over the courses and picked the most interesting one I could find.  It also translated to the least job opportunity creating, I'm afraid.  I live in Australia.  We're limited in what's available archeologically speaking to the past 200 years ... unless you're REALLY into shell middens.  But back to the Agora!  While I was studying I did a whole class on it during an intensive summer semester and I loved it!  I loved learning all the indepth stuff about a specific place rather than the typical overview that you get in those classes.  I'd love to go back to when it was the bustling city centre of Athens and see if it looks anything like the recreations.

2.  Times Square in 1945 when peace was declared:  Can you imagine being part of that party?  I've always been a teeny bit obsessed with the world wars (remind me to show you my collection of unknown WWI Soldier portraits that I rescued from second hand shops and eBay sometime) and I think I'd like to experience what it felt like when they all realised it was finally over.  The partying, the dancing in the streets, how amazing would that be?

3.  Woodstock:  I'm not much of a music person, I've always preferred the narrative to give me my moods, but I AM a liberal hippie Pagan and it looks like the sort of place I'd fit right in ... as long as i didn't have to spend the night.  From what I understand, the toilet facilites left a lot to be desired, and I'm a bit precious about that sort of thing.  I think roughing it is staying in a three star hotel.

4.  America's "Wild West" in the 1850's:  Late enough that there's stuff going on and they're settled, but before the Civil War.  Come one, who as a child DIDN'T want to be a cowboy/girl?  I love the idea of the Old West, or maybe I just love the idea of crinolines, I'm not sure.  Either way, I'd love to go and see what it was really like.  I can't ride a horse ... but that's what they invented carriages for, right?

5.  Last Thursday:  I've only got two words to say about this one ... Lotto numbers!

So, there you go, my list of places to go in a TARDIS!  I wonder what you'd choose?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The Star Trek conspiracy...

For those of you who have read some of my other blog entries, this will come as no surprise to you.  I’m a geek.  A huge sci-fi watching, computer game playing, tech gadget loving, internet surfing geek.  So it’s understandable that I have some rather strongly held opinions on certain issues involving geek culture.  There’s one in particular I’d like to bring to your attention. 

The Star Trek movie they brought out in 2009 should never have happened.

You may be cute, but you're no Picard.
Now, before you all start howling about how it was such a good film and how cute Chris Pine was in it and how it honoured the memory of Gene Roddenberry (may he rest in peace), I just want to make one thing clear.  I’m not saying, insinuating, or in any way implying that I thought it was a bad film.  In fact I rather liked it.  It was fun, the story was good, the effects top notch, and there were plenty of fannish inside jokes to pander to those who were fans of the series.  I’m not saying it was a bad film, that’s simply not the point I’m trying to make.

What I’m trying to say is … it shouldn’t have happened.  Think of it this way.  As a fan I’ve put many years into loving Star Trek.  I’ve watched the episodes, learned the history, developed theories and ideas about the parts that aren’t covered by canon … essentially, I’m committed.  I’ve put in the hard yards and I think I’ve earned my spot as a Star Trek fan. 

But then one day someone who isn’t Gene Roddenberry (may he rest in peace) gets up and says, “You know what?  We’re going to reboot the whole series!  Start from scratch!  We’ll wipe out everything that ever happened and we’ll change the storyline so significantly that there’s no way that the old history could happen again.  Hell, we’ll destroy a whole planet just to make sure that it’s impossible for some of the future characters to even be born!  It’ll be great, the fans will eat it up!”

You know what, Mr Someone Who Isn’t Gene Roddenberry (may he rest in peace)?  I’m a fan, and as much as I liked the film, I did NOT like the way it basically wiped out my universe!  You called a do-over, and now I’m left wondering if it’s a betrayal to MY universe to watch the new one!  No matter how enjoyable the new stories are, I’m still going to spend most of them thinking “This is good, but was it worth Tuvok’s life?”

Will nobody think of the officers!!!
I know a lot of (much less obsessive) people have listened to me rant on the topic, and then brought up the argument, “But it’s just like having a parallel universe, right?  They have those already in Star Trek, so it’s totally canon.”  That may be true, and I can see the logic behind it, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about it.  My Universe is gone, wiped out with the stroke of a pen.  

Saying it's a parallel universe doesn't alter the fact that, according to this new storyline, MY universe is gone.  My universe, which a put blood, sweat and tears into.  My universe, where the characters I love exist.  I think they've under estimated just how dedicated we fans are to what we see as the REAL Star Trek.

No, Mr Someone Who Isn't Gene Roddenberry (may he rest in peace), you may have given the Star Trek franchise a new lease on life … but at what cost?

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Why I don't hold dinner parties...

I love cooking shows.  I love watching them as they create little pieces of art out of four potatoes, an eggplant, and a crawfish.  I love how excited they get about it, waxing romantical about the joys of food.  What I don't like?  Cooking.

But I do love watching those shows.  I remember I used to love Jamie Oliver (before he became famous and a bit of a prat), and watched his earlier shows religiously.  He was just so enthusiastic!  He'd stumble over his words and be all sorts of adorable while the person behind the camera had to egg him on by asking questions about what he was doing.  I'm also a big fan of Nigella Lawson, the woman who can make de-boning a chicken look X-rated.  Seriously, anyone who can act that sensual about food while not actually doing anything sexual has my stamp of approval!

Like a lot of things I have an interest in, though, I'd much prefer to watch someone else do it than attempt it myself.  My philosophy is I'm not a professional.  If my toilet broke, I'd call a plumber, not stick my hand down the s bend.  So if I want a chicken kiev I'm going to go to the person most qualified to give it to me.

And most of the time that person is a chef at a restaurant or a cafe (and occasionally my mother).

So why am I bringing it up?  Well, today I found myself in the position of having to roast half a kilo of almonds.  I've never roasted an almond before, let alone half a kilo of them, and I wouldn't have had to today if my supermarket wasn't so plebeian that they only sold them raw instead of the barbeque roast flavour that I prefer! How very dare they!

But how exactly does one roast an almond?  After a quick sacrifice to the Google gods, I discovered that you just whack them in a low oven for about ten minutes, or until the smell of roasting almonds comes wafting out.  I don't know, Google!  It's not a good idea to give me options when it comes to something I'm not very good at.  I always pick the wrong one.  Always!

My oven, artist's interpretation.
And what does a roasting almond smell like, anyway?  They've always already been roasted by the time I get them!  So I went with the timed option.  Might not have been the best option, especially when paired with the unpredictable nature of my 473 year old gas oven (age estimated based on an excavation of grease layers).

So now I have two trays of roasted almonds, all of them slightly funny looking and ... for some strange reason ... more than a little chewy.  I'm relatively sure that none of the almonds I've bought from the shops ever looked like this.

Crap, maybe I should have just got the cashews...

Monday, May 28, 2012

Happy birthday to me...

Well today is my birthday.  Happy birthday, me!!!  Congratulations, you made it to thirty mumble years old without dying, good job!

And to celebrate, I plan to go to work and wear a plastic tiara all day to make sure that everyone who comes by knows it's my birthday.  After all, what's the point of working on your birthday if you don't make sure everyone knows about it and treats you like a princess!

I'm sure you'll all be happy to know I AM getting my magic wand universal remote for my birthday ... but not from my brother.  I'd assumed he'd be the only one willing to spend money on what even I can admit is a silly novelty.  A wonderfully silly novelty!   But no, he'd already decided he wanted to get me something else.

Diablo 3!

He signed me up for it and I've been downloading the program for the past five days.  That's right, THE PAST FIVE DAYS!  Seriously, Blizzard, you might want to take a look at that downloader.  The damn thing crashed on me so many times I was beginning to think it wouldn't finish downloading until my next birthday!  But finally, on Saturday afternoon, it finished whirring away and told me that I could go in and play.

So, first impressions!  I've got to say there's a lot to like about this game.  It's easy to play, the storyline is engaging enough to be interesting, but not so complex that you just decide to skip over it, and I found the similarities to World of Warcraft to be comforting.  The quests seem to be well thought out and guide you through the storyline, which is nice because I'm notorious for getting sidetracked in things like that.  The number of times I was on a quest chain in WoW and then got distracted by some other NPC asking me to collect thirty boar gizzards or rescue a baby dragon or get their moonshine from a goblin with a recalcitrant attitude ... well, lets just say I could get diverted for days!

But it's got a few bad points too.  So far I've not found a way to change the perspective.  Personally I'd prefer if I could look straight on from behind the character the way you do in WoW rather than the overhead shot that they seem to use.  I also found the targeting and the looting to be difficult to manoeuvre and a bit hit and miss, and while the graphics are good they aren't brilliant.

Still, it's entirely possible that my complaints about the game are due to my own lack of knowledge rather than any fault with the game itself.  I'll probably go in to play tomorrow and immediately work out that I've been doing it all completely wrong and it's my own fault.  It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

But I have to admit it's nice to think I might have finally found a game that I like again.  I was really disappointed in Star Wars The Old Republic, and even though I kept meaning to I never got the chance to try out Star Trek Online.  I know Diablo isn't an MMO, but it kind of feels a bit like one so hopefully it'll keep me amused for at least a few weeks.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

And you've got to be ready...

It's been talked about in the media, covered by movies, television, and generations of literature.  It's been screamed about on street corners by gentlemen who could seriously use a bath and a sandwich, and whispered about in secret corners by wide eyed, terrified looking simpletons.

What is it, you ask?

The zombie apocalypse, of course.  Are you ready for it?

Now, I know what you're thinking.  Why is she worried about something like that?  It's not like zombies really exist or anything.  They're just figments of an overly neruotic public consciousness married with our inner conflict of both being afraid of death and being fascinated by it.  They're not real.

The family that fights zombies together...
But the fact is if there's even a remote chance of the decaying undead rising from their graves and wanting to suck my brains out through my nose with a straw, I'm totally going to draw up a blueprint of the best places in town to stockpile weaponry.  We need to be organised so we can fight the evil menace and wipe it out before it takes over completely!  That's why I'm officially inviting you all to join my Zombie Attack Force.

So, for those of you who are onboard, here's the plan.

1.  The zombies rise from the graves and begin their reign of terror, stumbling through the streets, chewing people's arms off, and muttering "Brains ... brains...".  It's around this time that you should start getting together all the supplies you can.  Bottled water, canned food, ransack the neighbours places if you have to.  And don't let them fool you ... she might look like a sweet little five year old with pigtails, but she's a potential brain muncher just like the rest of them!

2.  We will all meet in the mall in the centre of town, where I have hidden a secret cache of nerf weapons under the fountain of the little boy peeing in the pool in preparation for just such an event.  Feel free to mow down any zombies who get in your way with your car ... if you start to have a moral dilemma with it, just think of it as a really realistic game of Grand Theft Auto.  I considered stockpiling real weapons, but I figured what with the slowness of their movement and the decaying and all, nerf projectiles will probably do the job just as well.  Besides, have you ever tried to get your hands on a bazooka?  It's REALLY hard to do.

3.  Once we're all armed, then we will take to the streets.  Remember, it's our duty to help dispatch of the menace that is invading our homes.  Take those suckers down!  And don't forget that your fellow zombie hunters are also potential risks.  Just because they're on your side right now, doesn't mean that they won't try to rip your head off if you turn your back to them!  Don't trust anyone, any person you come across could be a potential enemy...

... okay, I'm not sure I've thought this through as well as I'd hoped.  You know what?  Screw the zombie fighting army, you're  all on your own!

And if you could all just forget about the cache under the statue ... that'd be super...

Saturday, May 26, 2012

The facts of science fiction...

When I woke up today I decided that the time had come.  Time for us to have ... the talk.  Come on now, don't look at me like that.  You knew it had to happen sometime.  I know I've avoided it so far, I didn't want to stress our burgeoning relationship, but I think that it's time for me to sit you all down and explain a few of the facts of life, or at least a few of the facts of MY life.

Specifically, I think it's time for me to explain to you all my, some would say unhealthy, obsession with science fiction.

I suppose it all dates back to when I was around eleven years old and I first discovered that if I was willing to wake up at five in the morning I could sneak out into the lounge room and watch an old British kids show that some television genius had decided to put on in that oh so popular timeslot.  The show was called The Tomorrow People, had been filmed in the 70's, and was based on a bunch of kids who were the next step of human evolution (and seemed to have no parents, as far as I could tell).

The Tomorrow People
It was badly acted, poorly funded, had some of the worst special effects you can imagine (and this is coming from a Doctor Who fan) ... and somehow managed to capture my imagination.  I set my alarm religiously for a whole year, getting up every morning to watch it, until a change in the TV schedule took it away from me and shattered my poor little tween heart.

But by that point I was hooked.  It wasn't long until I discovered other sci-fi classics being re-run on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.  Land of the Giants, The Twilight Zone, Lost In Space, Buck Rogers, and Time Tunnel all featured prominently in my schedule.  It's strange, they weren't the sort of shows a young girl was supposed to like ... but I adored them.  I suppose it should have been a warning for what came next.

When I was around twelve a new version of Star Trek started airing.  I think The Next Generation was a bit of an experiment.  They were trying to see if it was even possible to bring back something that had been so popular back in the day.  But it was a success, and like all the other's before it, I fell hook, line and sinker.

Wil Wheaton, then and now.
It didn't hurt that there was a boy on it that was around my age and who, in my youthful naivety, I thought was just dreamy.  Of course that boy was Wil Wheaton, who grew up to be famous on the internet and one of the biggest geek legends out there, so I'm going to believe that it shows my good taste even at such a young age.

I followed Star Trek: TNG for a couple of years, at which point I entered the mid years of being a teenager who couldn't possibly do anything that might make her look uncool (don't be fooled, I was incredibly uncool as a teenager) and of course promptly stopped.  That marked the beginning of several bleak, barren, sci-fi free years.

But then a miracle occurred, an amazing miracle!  A friend of mine introduced me to a show called Sliders.  I originally agreed to watch it as the lead actor was Jerry O'Connell who I thought was adorable.  Are you sensing a trend here?  I never claimed to be noble, I've always been completely shallow and easily swayed by a cute guy.

The show was about a group of people who travelled to parallel universes, having adventures, trying to get back to their own.  It had been a good five years since I'd really watched any science fiction, but it was like coming home again!  I soaked it up, haunting my local video rental waiting for each new VHS release (yep, I'm definitely dating myself there).

Once I was back, it didn't take me long to work out I had a lot of catching up to do.  I had years of Star Trek, in two different series, to watch.  And then, to my joy, a third series began!  Star Trek Voyager was, and still is to this day, my favourite of all the Star Treks.

The picture on my work desk.
I'm not claiming it's the best acted or the cleverest or the most significant, but what it is is the first of them that I watched in order from start to finish.  It will always have a special place in my heart because of that and even now I keep a wee little picture of the crew of the USS Voyager on my desk at work, my OTHER family portrait as I call it.

From that point there was really no stopping me.  I caught up on the Star Treks, got into Buffy when it started, then Angel too.  I watched The X Files, Farscape, Dark Angel, Xena, Seaquest, Lost, Firefly, Life on Mars, Being Human, and so many more.  All these wonderful, imaginative, sometimes tacky shows.

And while I loved them all I didn't really find another that filled that gap that Voyager left ... until in 2005 the BBC decided to bring back their old classic Doctor Who.  Finally I'd found another true sci-fi love, one that lasts to this day, and from it I found Torchwood which I think I might love even more.  But really, it'd be like asking me to choose which child I loved more.  I have to think of them as a package deal just to keep my sanity intact.

I've been very lucky with my science fiction obsessions, I think, and about six months ago I found a new one.  I don't know how it was that I'd never watched Stargate Atlantis before, somehow it had slipped through my radar, but all it took was a crossover fanfic with one of my other favourite shows and I found myself enchanted with the characters.  From there it was a short step to getting hold of the episodes.

I'm still only half way through the five years worth (I like to take my time and savour them, especially as I know exactly how long I've got), but it's shaping up to be another sci-fi soul mate.

SGA:  my newest obsession.
I know it seems a bit over the top, but this is who I am.  Some people religiously follow football or car racing (which I really don't get), I choose to devote my obsessive tendencies to science fiction shows.  I can't say they changed my life, or saved me or anything suitably dramatic like that ... but I can say that I love them with all of my heart.  They get me, I think.

Of course, I'm also obsessed with Glee, but probably the less said about that the better...

Friday, May 25, 2012

And if you look to your left...

I remember a few months back reading a news article about a plane in Christchurch that had reported seeing something weird as they came in to land.  What, you ask?  Was it a flock of birds, a runaway kite, a UFO?  Oh no, what they reported would have actually made a UFO seem like a reasonable thing to report.  They saw a flying great white shark!

Seriously, you couldn't make this shit up!

It turned out there wasn't some sort of mutant shark breed that had learned not only to breathe air, but also how to fly.  It was just a remote controlled toy that had gotten away from it's owner and somehow made it up to a thousand feet before the pilot saw it.  Poor bugger, he must have thought he was going insane!  You're in a plane, flying through the sky, and out to the left you see a one and a half metre great white swimming by?  You'd HAVE to be questioning your sanity at that point.

If I saw this outside my plane window, I know I'd freak out.
You can just imagine the conversations going on inside the cockpit.


"Yeah George?"

"Are you sure we didn't crash in the ocean or something?"

"Pretty sure, why?"

"No reason ... it's just there's a ruddy great shark on the left side of the plane."

"George, you've got to start laying off the tequila."

But you know what the funniest thing about that article was?  It wasn't the fact that it was about a remote control flying shark, cause come on ... COOL!  It wasn't about how I couldn't help snickering when I thought of the passengers, and what they must have thought when they looked out the window to see Jaws flying by.

No, it was a quote from Glen Kenny, the New Zealand Air Line Pilots' Association President that had me snickering.  When asked what he thought about it, he said "It says it's an indoor toy on the box.  If you take them outside and the wind gets them, they can be goneburgers, so you've got to be a bit careful."

Goneburgers?  I'm totally using that, Captain Kenny.

The flying shark made by a group called Air Swimmers, which also makes a flying clown fish.  I'm so tempted to buy one just for the Finding Nemo jokes alone!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The dirty cleaning truth...

I like to think of myself as a common or garden variety modern woman.  I'm (relatively) young, independent, self sufficient, only slightly neurotic, and capable of keeping both myself and a cat alive simultaneously.  I'd say that puts me ahead of the curve in most cases.

I own a car, a washing machine, and a ridiculous looking fake silver tree that sits on my side board and serves no noticeable purpose.  I work 40 hours a week, do the bare minimum of housework that I can get away with without someone mistaking my place for a demolition site, and spend far too much time on the internet.  I'm your standard single office dwelling thirty something.

But the truth is ... and I can't tell you how much my modern liberated soul rebels at telling you all this ... there's a wee little part of me that can't help singing with glee when I read a cleaning tip in a magazine.  A small part of my subconscious perks up when I see a beautifully laid out living room plan in a home decorating magazine.  Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my brain, is the knowledge that you can use a walnut to erase scratches on polished wooden furniture.

Yes ... I'm a cleaning porn junkie.

I know!  I'm not supposed to want it!  I'm not supposed to yearn for the days when keeping an immaculate house was the benchmark of an accomplished woman.  But I just can't help it!

There's just something about the whole idea of it!  A beautiful house, scrubbed and polished within an inch of it's life.  The smell of fresh baking wafting from the kitchen.  Crisp linens drying on the line in the back yard.

And the funny thing?  It's not like I have any intention of DOING any of these things!  Oh no, that would cut into my sitting on the couch and bumming around on the internet far more than I'm comfortable with!

Maybe that's it!  I don't want to be an old fashioned housewife, I want to GET an old fashioned housewife!  That'd be perfect!  I'd have all the benefits of having a perfectly appointed and immaculately kept house without having to do any of the nasty jobs myself.  It'd be perfect, I could come home to "How was your day, Honey" a pair of warmed slippers, and a martini.

Only one problem ... I'm not gay.  So I guess a housewife is out of the question.  I could always try for a house husband I suppose, but from observation I'd say that an old fashioned house husband is about a thousand times harder to find than one of the feminine variety.

I could always hire someone I guess.  Put an add on Craigslist?  "Wanted, male homekeeper for a slightly scatterbrained professional woman.  Must be adept at doing laundry, scrubbing, baking, and aforementioned woman (boom-chicka-wa-wa)."

Hmm, but when you're talking about hiring a spouse rather than a cleaning person, you end up walking a pretty fine line between mail order groom and gigolo ... and I'm not entirely sure which side of that line I'd prefer to fall on.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Eggsterminate, eggsterminate...

As my birthday gets closer and closer, I keep finding things that I want ... nay, need!  Here's the latest thing I found while wandering around the interwebs.

Eggsterminate!  Eggsterminate!  You will be digested!

Yeah, I've been known to say things like that.  I'm THAT sort of a geek.  But come on, how can you look at this and NOT want one!  The chance to destroy a dalek every morning at the breakfast table?  How could you resist!

I do love Doctor Who memorabilia.  I had a friend once who had had dalek wall hangings, like those old sixties style flying duck formations, but with flying daleks instead!  Oh how I coveted her flying daleks!  But a dalek egg cup would be pretty cool too.

You can get your very own Eggsterminator Egg Cup from

Saturday, May 12, 2012

I am woman, hear me meow...

I am, like most women of my generation, a feminist.  A post feminist?  A humanist?  I'm not even sure what the acceptable expression is anymore, feminism has gotten a pretty bad rap and most people avoid the phrase if they can.

I hate having to admit it ... but I can see why it's gotten such a bad reputation.  Feminists are pretty much believed to be a bunch of angry, bitter women who want to be treated better than men because in the past women were treated worse, like it'll even out the cosmic scales.  There's something inherently unlikeable about people who try to counter injustice by swinging things in the other direction.  Rather than striving to fix the problem, it like they're trying to punish people for what happened.  Bad, bad things were done in the past, so now we demand preferential treatment to make up for it!  That'll show ya!  It's even worse when the people demanding and the people being demanded of weren't even the ones involved in the original injustice.  I guess I just don't get that whole "Sins of the Father" mentality.

Having said that, and as someone who did a major in Ancient History in university, I am a strong believer in the whole learning from history or you'll be doomed to repeat it concept.  Knowledge is power.  It's important that we know what the injustices were in the past, and how they came to be, so we can make sure we don't walk down that path again.  I just don't think that past wrongs necessarily translate to future preferential treatment or the right to be douchebaggy.   There's far too much douchebaggery in this day and age, in my opinion.

Of course, I have the highest level of respect, awe and gratitude for the women who in the past fought so I could do whatever I wanted with my career and would earn the same amount, could vote (even if last time I voted for Donald Duck), could own property, and a billion and one other things that men already had the right to do.  Those women deserve all the praise and reverence the rest of us can muster.  I just can't help thinking that when women (and I've seen many of them do it) take their fight and what they accomplished, and then use to to somehow gain preferential treatment, it's spitting in the face of what those women were trying to accomplish!  Using a struggle for equality to force inequality onto others ... oh, the irony.

I suppose you're wondering why I'm rambling on about this topic.  It's pretty much out of left field.  The reason is I stumbled across this youtube video and I couldn't help but be appalled.  Feminists protesting at a forum that was promoting support for abused husbands.  Seriously?  It's things like this that have made feminism such a controversial term.

I suppose I'm lucky.  I'm old enough to vaguely remember when women weren't necessarily treated equally, but young enough that it didn't really affect me.  I guess I'm part of that generation that they all talk about when they say that a social injustice won't truly disappear until everyone who remembers it is dead and gone.

But I heard someone use an expression the other day that got me thinking.  Feminazi.  I suppose I can understand where they're coming from.  Committing mass genocide while trying to take over most of Europe ... wanting equal rights regardless of what's between your legs ... they're totally the same thing.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Is that a wand in your pocket...

Okay, so I have a birthday coming up this month.  I'm not going to say how old I'm turning (lets just say that I actually wore a rah rah skirt in my misspent youth and leave it at that) but as is traditional as this time of year rolls around, I've found myself inundated lately with requests from family and friends for me to tell them what I'd like for my birthday.

I hate that question.  There's really only one answer that I consider acceptable ... a surprise.  Funnily enough, my framily (friends and family) don't agree that this is an excellent answer, so I find myself desperately racking my brains to come up with ideas.

This year, though, I think I've found something that I really would like ... if only I can find someone who will agree to buy it for me.

Isn't it awesome?  I know what you're thinking, why on earth does she want a crappy looking pretend magic wand?  Well the answer is I don't ... I already have one of those thank you very much.  It sits on my desk at work and whenever someone asks me to do some thing impossible, I pick it up, wave it around, and tell them I'll get back to them as soon as I remember the Latin for "Pull miracle out of my ass".

No, this is no simple magic wand.  THIS is a universal remote control magic wand!!!  How awesome is that?  I could point it at my TV, swish and flick, and BAM ... I'm watching Glee!

I watched the instructional video about it and it looks relatively simple to use, which is a good thing because I'm both crap with complicated technology and I have a short attention span ... a diabolical combination.

The only problem will be finding a framily member who will be willing to get it for me.  They're all disturbingly normal with a tendency to shake their heads patronisingly when I start in on a geeky tangent.  I'm relatively sure that most of them will consider a remote control magic wand to be a waste of time and/or money ... or at the very least to be enabling me in my geek-tech addiction.

But I think my brother is my best bet for this one.  He at least understands the geek mindset, even if he doesn't always have the same obsessions as me.  But any guy who's spent as much time playing World of Warcraft as he has really shouldn't be casting aspersions.

The Programmable TV Remote Magic Wand is available from ThinkGeek for the relatively reasonable price of $89.99.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Nerds unite...

Just to share with you my philosophy, and to give you an idea of what you can expect from the climate of this blog, I've decided to share with you a quote from one of the best things that has happened to geek culture since the invention of the internet itself ... John Green from the Vlogbrothers over at Youtube.

That pretty much sums it up!

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Allow me to introduce myself...

Hi, my name is Kellie...

Hello Kellie!

... and I'm a geekoholic.  I've been a self proclaimed geek for a while now, a lot longer than it's been considered socially acceptable to identify as one.  Damn it, I was watching VHS tapes of Star Trek episodes long before the internet made it cool to like stuff like that!  I deserve respect, you geeky whipper-snappers ... but I digress.

So here's what you can expect from this blog.

  • Observations about things I find funny/perculiar/frustrating/mindboggling.
  • Reviews of geeky television shows ... which will be more like me making snarky comments about the story lines, the acting, and probably the hairstyles.
  • The odd rant about things that make me fume with righteous fury, which could be anything from the Westboro Baptist Church to the revival of the bubble skirt.
  • Fun geeky toys, games, gadgets and other paraphernalia and why I think they'd be excellent additions to my desk at work. 
I can't promise to be particularly insightful, or clever, or even grammatically knowledgeable ... but I can promise to exact my own special brand of vigilante justice whenever I see something that outrages me ...  or at least to make fun of it with as much sarcastic vitriol as I can muster.  Sarcasm may be the lowest form of wit, but I prefer to just be happy that it counts as wit at all...