I know that I'm a nerd. I've always been a nerd. My whole life I've been a nerd in a cool girl's body.
I have this fear that I'll die suddenly and all my friends will be cleaning out my stuff (you know, because Chris will be so grief stricken he'll only be capable of building me a shrine) and then they'll stumble upon the ridiculous things I own. And together they'll try not to laugh because it will feel so inappropriate, but they'll exchange glances and later they'll think to themselves "What a raging geek!".
I'm tired of my fear of exposure keeping me up at night. I'd rather just take it all off here on the internet and get it over with.
Gold Target shoes
I wish I could say this was a joke. We were at his concert and all I can say is that there was a lot of drinking and a lot of middle-aged women were screaming and I just got all caught up in the Forever Isn't Long Enough-ing and the When A Man Loves A Woman-ing and it just felt so right.
Ever since, Chris and I have enjoyed playing a regular game of "Where's Bolton?". Sometimes he's waiting for Chris in the morning laid across the toilet, coyly smiling. Some nights I pull back the comforter on my side of the bed and there he is, beckoning me with his eyes. Like he knows.
Metallica Backstage Passes
Both Prodigy's Smack My Bitch Up and Backstreet Boys' Millenium.
Corn Nuts. Copious amounts.
Celine Dion autobiography with keepsakes.
This speaks for itself, don't you think?
Um, I watch this at least once a month. The nerd part comes into play because I really think by watching it, I'm staying cool. Despite the fact that Vince has since turned into a puffy pastry.
Fancy pearly opalescent pumps.
It's not the fact that I own this that makes me a nerd. It's the fact that I refuse to own anything else. Not the Nintendo Wii. Just old skool Super Nintendo and Super Mario Bros thankyouverymuch.
My dirty dirty little secret: I LOVE The People's Court.
I HEART Marilyn Milian. Even the music (da-duh-DUN) makes me salivate like a cat hearing a can opener. The litigants are kind of throwaways as far as I'm concerned. I just want to sit on the bench next to Judge Milian and play with her hair and bask in her quick-wittedness. I could be like her Paul Shaffer. ("You wouldn't believe her if her tongue came notarized? Hahaha! Good one Marilyn! Can I call you Mary?"). Don't you think there's a place for me there?
**Pictures missing despite tremendous effort to find them:
- My "I Heart Dr. Phil" keychain.
- My autographed picture of Antonio Sabato Jr.
It's official. I am now psychologically bare. These closets are ready for someone else's crappy skeletons.