LEAP YEAR: Will you marry me?

No, I'm not really proposing to MP on my blog of all places! Hell, I'm not proposing to him at all! That's a guy's job, right?

Apparently, not on leap year. How could I have lived 28 years, eleven months and 15 days without knowing that women popping the question to their boyfriends is a leap year tradition? I suppose it's the same reason that the first time I heard someone say "Who would've thunk?!" I chastised her for her inexusibly poor grammar ("But it's a colloquialism!" I was later told. "Oh," I replied).

These western world-isms are confusing to a simple child of Pakistani immigrants!

Good luck popping the question today, brave ladies who will pop the question on this leap year day. Godspeed.

NERDDDY LOVE: The Film

Our Nerddd: ...so THAT is the story of how I met MP! Isn't it unbelievable?!

Great Friend: It is! My goodness, what a life changing confluence of coincidences!

Our Nerddd: I don't think we'd ever have met if it wasn't for my blog. Wow, right? Sigh.

Great Friend: Your story can be a movie.

Our Nerddd: REALLY? You think so??!

Great Friend: Yeah...(after some thought) It'll likely be a movie that's critically panned and a box office disaster, but, it can totally be a movie.

JUST A REMINDER:

I'm still here. My wireless router and--resultingly--my laptop may not be, but I am. I understand that it would take only a couple of minutes to order that bloody Airport online, so yes, I'm in a blogger prison that I've built for myself. And, seriously, yah, when did I become such a slacker?

I refuse to validate the above conjecture with an answer but what I can do for you, my readers, my friends, is update you on the latest happenings in mi vida, as uneventful as they may be:

*static cling continues to plague my existence;

*Wonder of wonders, I'm still with that crazy Canadian commenter;

*Wonder of wonders, the crazy cute Canadian commenter still finds me charming and lovely and not crazy;

*Vegetarian's Paradise II and it's sister restaurant Red Bamboo have reclaimed their rightful shared spot as the Nerddd's fave restaurants;

*I've recently realized that the Foo Fighters might be one of my favorite bands of all time (go ahead, naysayers, judge me, for I'm willing to be judged for Dave Grohl);

*I've also recently realized my love for Siggi's skyr yogurt and it completes me;

*We are 16 days away from my 29th birthday! Let's hope it's better than my 28th birthday was!;

*We are three days away from MP's (previously identified in this post as that "crazy Canadian commenter" and the "crazy cute Canadian commenter") 32nd birthday!

WHAT ELSE IS NEW?

Of course Texans continue to favor the Republican front-runner.

LINKS

My blogging has been spotty, I know but, rest assured, it's not because I don't love you guys or have become a slacker. The truth of the matter, as you already know, is that my wireless router followed the bright light to the other side and I am so outraged over the cost of the Airport that I can't bring myself to physically click on the "add to cart" button to make the purchase.

How long it will take for me to get over my consumer outrage, only time will tell. In the meantime, don't be miffed kittens. My love for you is as vast as the internet.

CONSIDERING VALENTINE'S DAY

Most of my readers know that I've long been a passionate detractor of Valentine's Day. And yet, I've spent the past couple of weeks mulling over this most bogus of holidays. Why? Well, for once, February 14th does not find me alone. Should I reconsider my hateful position on a day that does nothing more than promote love and those disgusting albeit charming little candy hearts? What came first: my hatred for this offensive commercial exploitation and perversion of an entirely overrated emotion or (I'll just say it) the fact that I was one of those girls in my all-girls high school, who resorted to grumbling about commercial exploitation and overrated emotions when we saw the secretary's office overflowing with bouquets of flowers delivered by horny teenage boyfriends because we secretly wanted to have horny teenage boyfriends? Most importantly, does having a boyfriend mean that I must sell-out to Hallmark and become just another Cupid drone?

The answer is hell no!
Thinking deeply about Valentine's Day has helped me recognize that my hatred for the day is genuine, ardent, and deep. Though I may love love (as well as flowers), I certainly don't have any love lost for Cupid and his exhibitionism. Get a room, you jerk, and a pair of pants won't kill you!

WHAT WAS IT WITH ROUND TABLES YESTERDAY?

Exactly how the final fifteen minutes of a very long work meeting became a discussion about MP and me is still a mystery. Yesterday, my colleague BS summarized for a round table of eight persons the chain of events that lead to my blog romance.

Exactly why MP maintains his calm and stays with me after constant interrogation by the South Asian mafia (aka, my family) also remains a mystery. Last night, my amma asked on behalf of our round table of six persons (three of whom were relatives meeting MP for the first time), when MP planned on making an honest woman of me and kindly reminded him that my birthday is next month (and, you know, who doesn't like a nice surprise on her birthday).

GRAB: Socio-Anatomical Blunders and the Nerddd

Remember that time when I inadvertently grabbed a man's crotch in order to keep my balance (I'm still recovering from that unexpected reach-out-and-touch-someone moment)?

Well, the socio-anatomical blunders are alive and well, readers. They are alive and well.

Just the other day, I was seeing someone out of my office. He stopped abruptly in the doorway. Because he stopped so abruptly, I was suddenly directly behind my. Intending to shake my hand good-meeting and goodbye, he turned with his right hand held out. Because I was standing so close to him, he shook my left boob instead.

We were mortified.

The end.

ALLERGIES!: The Nerddd Has a Close Encounter

The allergy saga continues, dear kittens! I had a bit of a reaction to my weekly allergy shots this morning. My allergist took me to her exam room, where I had two anti-histamines, one epinephrine shot, five steriod pills, and one capful of liquid Zyrtec. When my throat started to get worse after the Zyrtec, my allergist recommended that I go to the emergency room if things didn't get any better in a few minutes. To top it all off, the epinephrine made me feel like I was hopped up on ten cups of coffee, so in addition to coughing, clearing my throat, and imagining my funeral, I was shaky and fluttery.

But, don't fret my lovelies. All is well now. Here I am.

Yours,

The Nerddd

BRIDEZILLA

MP: I think I'll be very hands-off when it comes to the wedding. What do we care, right? I mean, aren't weddings really just meant to make parents and extended relatives happy.

Nerddd: Speak for yourself, Canadian.

(moment of silence during which MP gulps)

MP: You're gonna be a bridezilla, aren't you?

BUSY

So, I leave you with the following question on this Super Tuesday (and I'm just going to assume that all of my readers are Democrats):

Barack or Hillary?

SUPERBOWL

Eli Manning and the New York Giants: amazing!
Olestra : not amazing.

A BLAST FROM THE PAST: The Nerddd at 10

It's the summer of 1990 and the Nerddd and her older brother are arguing over something silly, like the the remote control or credit for making "miyagi" synonymous for "cool" (it caught on in the Nerddd's household, anyway...ahem) in the '80s or inventing Khanjitsu (a brand of martial arts incorporating household items like throw cushions and spatulas; our Nerddd is no longer too proud to admit that her brother was the genius behind the discipline).

The Nerddd grumbles. She hurls out her grievances for anyone---including her brother, who's already, rather obliviously, watching television---who will listen. She stomps her feet and turns red with rage. "But, I want [the remote control; credit for coining the word "miyagi"; inventing Khanjitsu]," she rages. But her brother isn't listening, so to get his attention she finally resorts to calling out, "Ammmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaa!"

Our Nerddd's brother turns to look at what all the fuss is about. He's still, very clearly, uninterested in anything his little sister has to say because, as far as he's concerned, he was born having won this argument. Of course, this further angers the Nerddd and so she gives into her fury and flips him the bird.

The result however, of the flipped bird, is not the one she'd desired, for her brother dissolves into laughter. And although she wants to ask, "What? What?!" (because, frankly, she's confused), she shakes her hand and adds a "Take that!" for emphasis, hoping that that will do the trick but it only makes her brother laugh harder. So, she remains standing with the bird flipped, uttering exclamations as she struggles to make him take her seriously.

Her brother finally asks between laughs, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know," the Nerddd replies, now very unsure of herself. "Showing you the finger. Why?"

"Oh no, nothing," her brother says, returning to the television.

"Tell me," she demands, her finger still raised up in the air.

"Nothing," he repeats and suddenly serious, he adds, "that's not a nice thing to do, Sabila."

The Nerddd folds down her pinky finger, brings her hand down to her side and concedes defeat.

MEAT

The misery that is proving to be this morning was exacerbated by the following heartbreaking video. Meet your meat.

THIS MORNING...

...I made it official: I hate winter. Yes, it's true. I've held winter in the highest regards for as long as I can remember; you may even say it was my favorite season. This past winter, however, has seen a significant decline in my resistance to the cold--which, may or may not have something to do with my inability to dress in weather-appropriate layers--and, so, I reiterate loud and clear enough for everyone to hear: Enough winter. Enough.

...while buying coffee, I saw a man diligently scraping off layers of buttercream frosting from his cupcake. I bit my lip and fought the urge to tell him that taking the frosting off of his morning cupcake wouldn't change the fact that he was having a cupcake for breakfast.

...even though I was standing within reasonable distance of the door open button, I only made the lamest show of reaching for it as a poor woman, weighed down by bags, ran frantically for the elevator. I had no intentions of opening the door for her, probably because I'm mostly impatient and always in a mad rush. I absolutely don't feel the guilt gnawing away at my innards.

VALENTINE

Now that February is almost upon us and even though I'm firmly ensconced in a relationship, I thought I'd state for the record that I remain steadfastly opposed to that farce of a holiday known as Valentine's Day. The multi-billion dollar card companies will continue to rake in their billions, a majority of the world's population will be left desperately sad and disappointed, and love will, for yet another year, be reduced to red and pink hearts, chocolates, and Hallmark.

Thanks but no thanks.

AHEM and LINKSYS, YOU BASTARD

Okay, I admit that rereading the post below made me vomit in my mouth just a little--which was ill--but, mostly, it made me smile, so I was able to ignore the gross vomiting bit.

In other news, Linksys has finally breathed its last miserable breath. It was a useless, waste of a wireless router while it lived and will certainly be remembered as a two-bit, worthless, and miserable excuse for technology during those rare instances when it is remembered. I highly, highly, highly discourage anyone from wasting their $49.95 on this piece of crap.

I now have to look into buying an Airport, which is what I should've done in the first place seeing that I'm all about Apple.

MP: The Reasons He's Swell

1) He carries my ginormous bag for me whenever we're together;
2) he tells me arrêt (stop in French) whenever I, like the girl that I am, bitch about having put on weight;
3) he serenades me with songs from his punk-Canadian youth;
4) he calls my parents amma and abu;
5) he tells me that mine are the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen;
6) he confessed to having a list of restaurants that he wanted to take me to within our first month together;
7) he thinks I'm beautiful just the way I am;
8) he read my blog for a year before we met;
9) he finds my neuroses charming;
10) he will carry my bag and my coat without complaining while I shop;
11) he will tell me when something I try on in a store looks like ass;
12) he's such an unwaveringly loyal friend to his friends;
13) he finds NYC winters balmy and while I'm shivering in my multiple layers of clothing, he walks alongside me sans gloves, hat, or scarf with his coat unbuttoned;
14) he was a good sport and answered all of my open letter queries when we first met on my blog;
15) when I commented "I think you like me" on our first date, he replied, "Like you? I adore you";
16) he loves literature;
17) he is the best listener I've ever met;
18) he's happy to spend the day with my family;
19) while I'm braindead on anything less than seven hours of sleep or anytime after 11PM, MP's work schedule often demands that he function on three hours of sleep...plus, he's always ready to go out and mingle afterwards...AMAZING!;
20) he's one of the most intelligent people I know yet he's so unassuming about it;
21) I don't think I've ever met anyone as laid back and zen.



more tk

A BLAST FROM THE PAST: 6.5 years ago

It's July 9th, 2001, our Nerddd's first day in the post-college, real world. She's feeling great: psyched and confident. She wants to get this show going but has to get through orientation first and has to force herself to remain seated as the HR person prates on about sexual harassment, vacation days, benefits...you know, the ushe.

When one of her orientation classmates turns to her during a break and asks, "So, hey, what department are you going to be in?" and our Nerddd, her eyes wide and perplexed, replies "I have NO idea."

Dear Women Who Insist on Commuting in Their Heels: An Open Letter

Dear Women Who Insist on Commuting in Their Heels:

I'm sorry but I hate you. I realize it's your prerogative to wear high-ass heels wherever the hell you want to but New Yorkers are walking 10% faster than a decade ago and, honestly, if you can't keep up in your Jimmy Choo knockoffs, then don't bother wearing them on the streets of Manhattan. I don't care how tall or well put together you look as you teeter painfully in front of me. No one gives a crap. What New Yorkers do care about is being stuck on a staircase behind your dumb, vain ass, as the trains we were hoping to catch slowly slip away.

You are self-centered and, clearly, you're also a fool for compromising your entire musculoskeletal health. You've messed with my schedule way too many times, you Imelda-freakin'-Marcos of Gotham. A couple of years ago, I watched one of your spike-heeled sisters tumble on a I-stow-my-lovely-heels-in-my-handbag-and-walk-in-sensible-flats-because-I'm-not-a-wanker lady. Bastards. All of you. Forget terrorists. We should be reporting sightings of you on the subway.

Yes, I also happen to be a I-stow-my-lovely-heels-in-my-handbag-and-walk-in-sensible-flats-because-I'm-not-a-wanker lady. However, I confess that several years ago, I also terrorized Manhattanites with my naivete: I wore all varieties of heels during my commutes. Stilettos, three-inch pumps, those crazy platforms that were all the rage in the early 2000s...you name it, I wore it. I'm telling you this because if I could change, so can you. There is hope, you Carrie Bradshaws. There is hope.

Yours,

The Nerddd

ps: The carrot post below was in no way intended to be pornographic. Now that it has entered that realm of smut, um, well, apologies for offending those of you with delicate sensibilities and you're welcome to my readers who are all viva la pornografia.