Cheese and rice! It’s friday again! That means another plan must be made for constructing my wife into a real-life nerd.
Last week, I set up a few goals. Goals, I may add, I considered a little lofty at the time. Not just because I was going to attempt to rope my wife into doing several things she’s never done before (or particularly expressed much interest in), but because it was our anniversary weekend. And well, you know… she’s a woman and stuff. And a smart man knows an anniversary isn’t the best time to start demanding things of his wife. It’s her day. You’re not supposed to get what you want. Unlessssss you’re sneaky and clever and woo her first with fancy things.
It was a bit like that. Except less geriatric.
I guess that’s better. But less fat. I’d be allergic to those clothes, too. Whatever.
To recap, last week’s sessions were:
- Who is Brent Spiner, and Why Should I Care?
- You’ve Enjoyed Watching Me Play Portal, Now How About Listening to the Man Who Wrote the Still Alive Song?
- TNG and You: Season One Aboard the Starship Enterprise
- Who is That Vision? Oh, That’s Felicia Day.
And how did it go, you may be inquiring with your ever-insatiable wrinkly sack of juice and synapses you call a brain? I’ll tell you. I won. Everything. That’s how the hell it went. Her nerdy apprehension was Billy Madison and I O’Doyled the shit out of her.
We watched not one, but TWO episodes of TNG. Then two episodes of Big Bang Theory (one was the recent episode with Wheaton & Spiner), Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog, and listened the hell out of some Jonathan Coulton.
Shazzzam, son. Or daughter. Depending on your gender. I have no children.
It may have been to my benefit that I was developing a pretty ugly cold last weekend that still hasn’t gone away. She took pity on me to some degree – but hey, I’ll take it however I can get it. Though it’s not like I didn’t have to do any work. There was a good bit of explaining things…
“I don’t really know why Worf’s head looks like that, it’s just what Klingons look like.”
“Tasha doesn’t make it out of season one. She did have sex with Data though. I won’t be showing you that ridiculous episode.”
“Yes, that’s the guy from Firefly. Yes, that’s the guy we just saw on Big Bang Theory. Yes, she was in the season finales of Dollhouse.”
“There’s no reason why you should call a song about Ikea ‘silly.’ The man is a genius.”
“Well dear, he was only 14 in the Star Trek episode you watched – how old did you EXPECT him to be now?”
I constructed a graphic to go along with these chronicles. It will be filled in like a donation thermometer as my wife learns more nerdy things. Once she fills up the lenses and becomes a piece of tape on the bridge, she’s ready. Not that I’ve ever actually seen someone with tape on their glasses. Damn me for perpetuating stereotypes.
Last week she was this:
This week, she is this:
Things seem positive for the future. When she came home last night, I was still soaked in sweat and hyperventilating in the corner of our living room after both Wil and Anne Wheaton responded positively to my last post. After she pried me from my soiled underpants and rubbed on some mineral oil, I explained what had happened, and why I had the smell of alcohol and a mixture of pride and fear on my breath. She became really happy for me and gave me stickers and popsicles and said “I’m glad you were able to make such a great connection.” We went to bed shortly after when she asked “hey, did you do another Nerding My Wife yet?”
She’s Just That Into Me.
Without further ado, here are the hopeful sessions for this weekend:
- Nursehellamentary School: A Screening of Nerdcore Rising to Examine MC Frontalot, STD, MC Chris and Others
- NPR in the Car: Honestly, Before I Stab You, Trade Jason Derulo for Ira Flatow.
- Look Dear, The Guild is Streaming on Xbox!
I should probably consider that sufficient. That last one will take a lot of time/work/explanations. *deep breath*
Lend me your comments on what should be included in future lessons!
This post just got a new yo-yo. This post has PTSD. This post no longer shaves on Thursdays. This post plays the flute.