I Can't Hang Out, It's Quidditch Season

I put as my Facebook status last night, "I was a nerd before being a nerd was cool". But I think people didn't really believe me. So I'm here to prove my genuine nerdiness to the internet and all that do not believe.

Before school I was an only child and had to find ways to entertain myself. Therefore I found rather interesting ways to use the tools at my dispense. If that meant wearing a mustache on my face or some swimming goggles to make me laugh then so be it. I had a great childhood and I don't care how I had it!

This is me at girl scout camp in probably 2003. Let's just look at this photo closely real quick. Notice the visor. Dear me, this was not a good look. Don't try it again. You also cannot forget the frizzy hair and glasses. I've also chosen to nicely accessorize my polka-dot blouse and vest with a faux camel skin water jug. This was also the summer that I grew three inches... in my legs. Therefore all of my jeans were too short and I was shockingly gangly. And did you notice that my jeans unzip... in the flare... in the front?

Once I got into school I was a MAJOR bookworm. I was one of the first kids to learn to read in my kindergarden class. And I don't mean reading selective words with the help of my parents' coaching, I mean actually reading sentences! (The fact that I couldn't spell my last name until first grade has nothing to do with my reading skills... what kindergardner can spell Christensen?!) 

My parents got me into the Star Wars franchise at a young age, and when Episode I came out my recesses were filled with me pretending to be Queen Amidala... except Obiwan Kenobi, played by Ewan McGreggor, was so much cuter than Anakin Skywallker... so I pretended that she hooked up with Obiwan. I had coloring books and a Queen Amidala doll. At one point my room was littered with Luke, Leia, Han, and Chewbacca action figures. Star Wars was the shit. However, I am sad to say that my knowledge of Star Wars faded when I fell in love with another movie/ book franchise, Harry Potter. 

The Harry Potter Years were long and honestly still going, just not as strong. I was first skeptical of the Harry Potter books due to their wild popularity (I seem to still have this feeling about books like these i.e. Twilight which I have never read). When I saw the trailer for Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone, I became intrigued and decided to check out the book. I was immediately hooked and read the next three (Rowling was only up to Goblet of Fire at this point) before Sorcerers Stone was released in theatres. I began seeking out Harry Potter posters at every store and market, and by the time Chamber of Secrets was out on video my walls were no longer visible due to the amount of Harry Potter posters and paraphernalia on them. My mom made me a fake wand because every day I came home and would pretend to be Hermione. At recess my friends and I played Harry Potter and eventually, when I got a Playstation 2, I started getting the games. I cried when Harry found out that he had a god father and the time when Harry and Ron were fighting in Goblet of Fire and they made up because they are such good friends. I also liked to pretend that when I was doing my homework, I was actually doing my homework for Hogwarts and would get detention with Snape if I didn't do it. Hey, I had straight A's all through elementary and middle school. 

I fell asleep to tapes of Goblet of Fire and Order of the Pheonix for about two years straight.

When I found these my first thought was, "Shit, I lost Chamber of Secrets". And I may or may not have stayed up until six fifty in the morning playing Harry Potter: Quidditch World Cup. 

Oh, what per-say do you think is in this here box?

Why it's my authentic Hermione wand, that's what!!!! 

The hardest part for me was accepting that I wasn't going to Hogwarts and I wasn't going to be shipped off to England to learn how to hone my wizarding skills. The summer after I turned eleven I checked the mail diligently to see if I had received a letter from Hogwarts telling me about my special gift and that I had been living with silly Muggle parents all along. But school started and no letter came. I cried for like two days. 

I have now gotten over my sadness about not going to Hogwarts due to my maturity and the fact that I would have probably befriended Harry and gone through all of these death defying stunts or possibly died. I've made my peace with being a Muggle.

Tonight, while watching The Daily Show with my Muggle Mom, I saw the most fascinating clip. 

IT"S QUIDDITCH FOR US MUGGLES! It works basically like regular quidditch except you are running with a broom between your legs and some poor guy has to wear a yellow shirt and be the snitch. I want to start a league at my college. I'm not kidding. All of you UM kids: let's get working on this. I call chaser or maybe seeker... I haven't decided. Let's chat. 

Mark Zuckerberg Owns My Soul and He Owns Yours Too

I love Facebook. Facebook is like my meth. I used it once and now I will never be able to stop. But you know what, I'm fine with that. I never got into the games and questionnaires on Facebook because I think they are stupid. I think the questionnaires are stupid because it's so incredibly judgmental of your friends and it clogs up my wall with unwanted crap that absolutely means nothing to me. I think the games are stupid because you could do so many better things with your time on Facebook like tag people, like things, or creep on people's photos. That's what Facebook is for.

In my years of being on Facebook, I have discovered that there are many types of people on Facebook and I think Facebook thrives off these people, but it still doesn't make me any less frustrated with them.

The Creepy Guy Who Comments Awkward Compliments on Photos
I'm not good about taking compliments in general. I don't know what it is, but I just become very embarrassed when people compliment me and worried that I won't respond in the right way. However, my least favorite thing is when guys whom I do not know comment on my photos saying things like, "Ur hott". First of all why can't they just spell the fucking words right? Dear Facebook Creep, you feel the need to not spell out the full word you're but you at and extra t to hot? Also, do you think that your smooth words and terrible spelling will make me fall for you? You would be wrong. Granted, it is partially my fault for allowing people I didn't know to be my friend on Facebook and I've now become more restrictive of who I allow to be my friend.

The Over-Liker

When I get on Facebook, nothing makes me more happy than when I see that someone has liked what I have said. The most satisfying feeling for me is when the likes on a status update or comment get up into the double digits. I really feel like I've done something of worth at that point. But one thing that bothers me is when someone likes everything everyone on Facebook says ever. It's kind of disappointing when you see this person like something you wrote because since they like everything you can't really trust that they actually like what you have written or that it was even funny or interesting. The like button was probably the best invention by Mark Zuckerberg and the almighty Facebook Gods, but when the over-liker abuses the like button, it makes me lose faith in the like button and all it was made for. 

All of My Status Updates Are Song Lyrics Because I'm Just That Deep

I'm not going to lie, I've put song lyrics in my status update before, but when every single status consists of other people's words, I no longer believe that the person on the other end of the computer is a human, but actually a robot. 

Let's Talk About Vaginas

I was flipping through Cosmo the other day with my best friend and her cousin (he is a boy... so I would just like to apologize for having to listen to our conversation at this time) and we came across an ad for a tampon alternate. (Aside for my male readers: I'm sorry... I do not have sufficient knowledge about penises... peni?... what is the plural of penis?... anyway, I guess you could always read this and learn more about your girlfriend.)

The advertisement was for a new product called SoftCup. It's pretty self explanatory, but my mind still said, "what the ef?" in copious amounts when I saw this advertisement. It is a cup that you stick up your vah-jay-jay during your moon time.

The three of us just stared at the Cosmo in front of us wondering what we were going to do with the knowledge that had just entered our lives. I can't remember who began talking first, but once we began discussing the schematics of this product, things just became more confusing for the three of us. We sat on the couch and discussed everything from how the heck you are supposed to get it in, how it words and how you can supposedly have sex while wearing it. After a few minutes we went back to our real lives where tampons are the thing guys are afraid of, not cups.

It's been a few days since the incident and I'm still thinking about this product. I mean sure, these little cups kind of sound nicer than fiberglass or make-shift diapers, but I still don't know what to think about this alternative special time product. I decided to look around the blogs and see if anyone else was talking about this and sure enough, other women on the internet are weirded out by this thing as well.

One of my favorite blogs, hipstercrite, did some research on other vagina friendly products. One of the things she found that I found remarkable was a uterus pillow.

Well, isn't this just a lovely picture. Honestly, who doesn't want to cuddle up with some friendly fallopian tubes? I know I do. I mean, nothing says come hither to my bed like a giant uterus. I just know that there is some vagina lover out there that has their room decorated with uterus pillows. If you want to see more of the weird things people have made with vagina themes, go check out her blog. They are pretty hilarious.

So what is to come of this post? Honestly, I don't really know. I really think I just wanted to express my my worry for a society that makes vagina pillows. Note to my friends: I do NOT want a vagina pillow for Christmas.