Unleashing My Inner Dork

My MySpace page is all totally pimped out
I got people begging for my top 8 spaces
Yo, I know Pi to a thousand places
Ain't got no grills but I still wear braces
I order all of my sandwiches with mayonnaise
I'm a whiz at minesweeper I can play for days
Once you see my sweet moves you're gonna stay amazed,
my fingers movin' so fast I'll set the place ablaze
There's no killer app I haven't run
At Pascal, well, I'm number 1
Do vector calculus just for fun
I ain't got a gat but I gotta soldering gun
Happy days is my favourite theme song
I can sure kick your butt in a game of ping pong
I'll ace any trivia quiz you bring on
I'm fluent in Java Script as well as Klingon
Here's the part I sing on
They see me roll on, my Segway!
I know in my heart they think I'mwhite n' nerdy!
Think I'm just too white n' nerdy
Think I'm just too white n' nerdy
Can't you see I'm white n' nerdy
Look at me I'm white n' nerdy
I'd like to roll with-The gangsters
Although it's apparent I'm tooWhite n' nerdy
Think I'm just too white n' nerdy
I'm just too white n' nerdy
How'd I get so white n' nerdy?

"White & Nerdy" by Weird Al Yankovic


Something funny happened to me today. Granted, you need a warped sense of humor to appreciate all the funny that I've been through in the last year, but this was almost a laugh out loud moment. We all know that deep down inside, I'm a big dork. Some of us have inner personalities that long to get out. Some women have that inner seductress they can unleash. Others have amazing inner strength - literally - that they call upon in times of need, or whenever you want furniture rearranged and there's not a man around. I, on the other hand, have an inner dork. What can I say?

I had an appointment with my radiation doctor today. I had absolutely no idea what was to be done at said appointment, I just knew that I needed to be there today. So, here I go, dressed very cute with a trench coat and angora scarf, to boot. First, I get there and have to scan my card. See, for radiation they give you this thing that looks like a library card. It's laminated and has a bar-code on the back. You're supposed to walk in and scan it, then have a seat and wait until your name is called. That is what I intended to do, except my card would not scan. Remember the first time you tried to use a curling iron? Remember how difficult it was to get the hang of looking into the mirror and moving your arms in the direction you needed them to go when everything looked so backward? Well, that was me and my little check-in card. I could see the red laser light shining out of the thing that looked like a WalMart scanner. I knew I was supposed to line it up with my little bar code. So, why then, did the laser light move 5 inches to the right or left each time I got my card anywhere near it? Honestly, I looked around to see if I was being punked! There was a receptionist right there - truly she is not a day under 90 - who was getting quite upset that I couldn't get the hang of this simple procedure. Finally, I decided to take control of the situation. I reached down to pick up the mounted scanner, thinking I would have more luck moving the scanner to match the card than the card to match the scanner. That's when Granny went apes*&@ on me (sorry kids - I call it like I see it). Apparently, there has been a rash of stolen scanner thingamabobbers. Maybe they are hot sellers on the black market or something. So, I drop the scanner like it's a hot coal and then Granny had to remount and reset the darn thing. All this was happening while dozens of other people had lined up behind me to scan their little cards, too. Rumbles and grumbles ensued and Granny was all too happy to tell everyone that I had, indeed, thought myself worthy enough to pick up the scanner. Heads were shaking and dozens of people were tsk tsking me. I felt like that guy in the Visa debit card commercial when he tries to use cash! Meanwhile, Granny grabs my check-in card out of my hand and slides it right into the scanner like nobody's business - beep, and we're done. I was humiliated. This was just the beginning.

Next I sit in the waiting room waiting to see what comes next. Shortly a nurse appears and tells me that, while radiation doesn't start until tomorrow, she is there to walk me through the procedure so I will know exactly what to do everyday. Great! This is definitely something I can handle, right? First we walk back to a dressing room. She shows me where I will change clothes everyday, where my clothes should hang, what can stay in that spot and what has to come with me. This is where I start to fall apart - I am very busy thinking: clothes stay, purse comes with me, jewelry goes in purse - so jewelry comes with me, coats stay with clothes, but scarves go into purse - so scarves stay with me, pants stay on my body so do not take them off, etc, etc. Suddenly she says, "After that stay here and wait for your name to be called." OK, so I thought she meant stay right here tomorrow, once you have your "what stays and what goes" sorted through. I did not know I was actually supposed to do the stay and go thing right now. It wasn't until the "Employees Only Past This Point" door hit me in the face that she realized I was still behind her. Ouch! Now Florence Nightengale has to go through the whole dressing room rules monolague again before I realize that I needed to take my clothes off today - right now, actually. "Oooooooh, I get it." That was all I could think of to say! So, back I go to change my clothes, leaving my shirt and coat but taking my jewelry and scarf in my purse. Then I sit down with my big Mom purse wearing my jeans with a ginormous hospital gown over the top.

My name finally gets called and I set off in search of the person calling me. Figuring out where the source of a sound is coming from is NOT one of my strong points. I am almost all the way back to Granny at the front desk when someone YELLS at me. I whipped around, saw the error of my ways - literally, and trudge back to Nurse Cratchit by the infamous dressing room. She impatiently tells me that I am to follow her into the next room, the dreaded radiation room. This is the part where I really do a great job! I had it going on in the radiation room! I sat down my purse and hopped up on the table. I remembered this big machine from last time - knees here, arms above head, hands clasped...so I assume the position without having to be told what to do. No doubt I had quite the "I am the shizzle" look on my face at that moment, but Nursie-nurse would not crack a smile. For some reason I decide to make it my life's work to make her smile at me. Why I could not just be there and be quiet, I do not know. Here were some of my best lines..."Glad my arms are above my head - you can't see my stretch marks this way." As they were moving my arms and legs all over the place..."Bet you guys are GREAT at the hokie pokie." How about my personal favorite as they were photographing me..."Wow, this is like a centerfold. Should I smile?" Yes, that's right. They took pictures of me, ungowned, on a cold, hard table. They also drew all over me with a sharpie pen - all around frankenboobie (affectionate nomenclature since it's all stitched back together like Frankenstein), and even under my armpit!!! Not only was it not the body art I've always longed for, but it tickled - BIG TIME! While I tried so hard not to laugh, they were busy telling me that the pictures and marks were to help line me up right each day, but I know that deep down inside it was so they could sit around a table at lunch and show their nurse friends pictures of the dumb lady that messed up the scanner, got lost, and wouldn't stop laughing.

Anywho, I made it through this terribly embarassing appointment. I will be going back tomorrow.....I've decided never to wear jewelry or a scarf, since all that stay and go stuff is way too confusing. Hopefully I can get my scan card to work. I've been thinking about Granny's technique. I believe it's all in the wrist. Do me a favor. If those pictures ever show up on the internet, please remember that I was having a bad day, ok? I accidentally let my inner dork out. Oops!