I am a nerd. I’m also somewhat of a geek. I guess the fact that my mind has a very clear division of those two terms probably only adds to either claim. In any case, this is nothing new to anyone who knows me well. My family constantly calls attention to my nerdiness which strikes me as being right about on par with me pointing at my sister’s stomach and saying, “You’re pregnant.”

It’s standard protocol for me to bring a book and a notebook with me nearly everywhere I go. I do this even when I’m with people. I once recall my sister-in-law pointing this out and asking me if I thought they were boring company. This was one of those instances where telling the reasoning for your actions can only make you look worse than better, by worse I mean nerdier than nerdy. So, instead of explaining that there might be a few 5-minute chunks of time where I could get some reading or writing in, I sheepishly smiled and said, “I always bring one. Always be prepared—never know when I might need it.” I figured that explanation was at least vague enough to imply that the book and notebooks were useful tools. Need to write down directions or a phone number? No problem! Lindsay’s at the ready! Need a particularly good quote for a philosophical question? Lindsay’s got you covered! (Though, if we’re taking my current reading material, I’m not sure how a David Sedaris quote would fair, but I can only imagine that it would be a thing of wonder.) I had a MacGyver complex in my head with the vague insinuation of my statement, but I’m pretty sure my sister-in-law still interpreted it as “Nerd.”

Whenever I go home and stay with my brother and my sister-in-law, I always manage to horrify my sister-in-law with my cluelessness. It’s a gift, really. We’ll be sitting on the couch talking with the television on in the background, and she’ll mention a show or a well-known celebrity and I will always inevitably ask, “What’s that?” or “Who?” I think my not knowing what Modern Family is and who Justin Bieber is (I further hurt my case by mispronouncing Bieber, a sure sign that I had no idea what was going on) are the two examples that stunned her the most. Oh, there was that time when I asked who the Kardashians are that floored her, too. She no longer assumes I’ve ever seen or heard of anything. Over Christmas, she turned Ellen on and said, “Let me guess—“ I cut her off and said, “Oh! Ellen! I know her.” Just as pleasant surprise registered on my sister-in-law’s face, I followed it up with, “I’ve never seen the show, though.” That seemed to fix matters for her which is good, because I was momentarily concerned that I had someone unalterably thrown a wrench in her mental schema of me. That would’ve just blown her mind and I like her too much to deal with the guilt of having been responsible for her having to deal with new information that simply isn’t compatible.

When the Academy Awards were on, I was completely unaware until I started seeing people live Tweeting and Facebooking them. Something seemed amiss, so I Googled it and realized that, yes, the Academy Awards are on and, yes, I had no idea. I then posted on Facebook and Twitter something along the lines of “I just realized that the Academy Awards are on tonight, and only because everyone’s talking about it online. I really do live under a rock. A very large, sun-blocking rock that keeps me pop culturally retarded.” Because I’m nothing if not self-aware. My brother had texted me to tell me that he was last in the game of predicting the awards so far, and I told him that I hadn’t even known they were on that night. At about the same time, my sister responded to my declaration on Twitter: “We know. Your skin is the give away ” Moments later, my brother texted back with “nerd”—nothing more, nothing less, just “nerd.” To which I said, “ADORABLE nerd, you mean.” I didn’t get a response to that one, but I like to think that’s because he didn’t feel the need to respond to a well-known fact. You know, I’d think my family would just be grateful that I know what the Academy Awards are and don’t confuse them with the Oscars. I’m just sad I missed seeing which musical artists won.

I’m still trying to figure out what all the hubbub concerning Charlie Sheen is about. I’ve been told a couple different things, and I’m still not sure which is true, if any of them. Everyone’s just writing that he’s crazy, and that’s hardly new information, so it doesn’t exactly shed light upon why he’s getting so much attention now.

My father never ceases to take advantage of an opportunity to point out how much “hipper” he is than me. He has a more active social life than I do, he’s up on pop culture, listens to modern music more than I do, can throw around names like Bieber and Taio Cruz with ease, and boasts that he’s watched Grey’s Anatomy and I haven’t. I never cease to take advantage of one of these opportunities to point out that at least I know how to use a computer.

I was talking on the phone with my dad today, and we were talking about finances and me finally taking over my own phone bill sometime in the not too distant future. I told him that I would be fine with that provided that I got to keep my number, because it’s a fun number with a lot of 7’s. He said that it could probably be worked out. Then he paused and said that I should probably go with the $99 a month deal where I’d get everything. “Why would I do that? All I use my phone for is a clock, alarm, and to call and text. I don’t even have internet on this phone.” Again, he paused. “Well, you’d be able to get GPS and [this] and [that] and [more things that I wasn’t quite listening to because, honestly, it’s still weird to me that I can TEXT people].” “Uh huh… you want me to get a smart phone.” “Well, why not?” “Well, WHY?” “Well excuse me for trying to help you be a little hipper!”