This is how big a nerd I am

A friend I have on the east coast (miles and miles and MILES away from me) was doing construction work for a lady this week. He quoted Star Wars in front of her and for some reason she immediately asked him if he knew me or my ex-husband. From everyone in the world, she chose us as the nerdbassadors. “Oh, you’re a nerd? Do you know this nerd?”

Let us examine:

  1. I have never met this lady. I know this for a fact. We have not run into each other. We did not attend a book reading at the same time, claim and return each others luggage at a baggage carousel, nor share hearty shoults of agreement at a rally to end sagging socks. I do not believe she knows I have a blog, but if she did randomly stumble across this particular corner of dorkdom, she would not have known my full name, and if somehow she had figured it out by piecing together this or that from years of blogging or tax records based on geotagging or something else super sleuthy, she could not have known my ex’s name nor his nerd abilities.
  2. Of all the people who know or who quote Star Wars in the entire world, she suggested me and my admittedly nerd-equivalent ex. Reality might say that she asked if he knew us not from the 7 billion people worldwide, but only from the, oh let’s just guess, hundreds of people she knows personally. But again, I’ve never met her.

So how does she know my name and my inherent nerdary? My ex is marrying her daughter. This would explain how she knows of his nerdary, but means that stories of mine must have been passed along second-hand through him. I have to be such a massive nerd that fellow nerds tell tales of it. To their future in-laws.

I don’t know if I feel proud or ashamed right now. I really do not.


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