trying to make the most out of my situation

Last night I had a dream that The Mighty Kymm and I were sitting around trying to figure out each other’s FTP passwords. We were giggling fiendishly as we’d figure out each other’s codes. Then we called up Diane and had fun hacking into her journal as well. The three of us were just hooting and hollering about how crazy the three of us are and what fun it is to know someone well enough to hack into their system.


That is officially the geekiest dream I’ve ever had. I’m not kidding. Pure Geek. I woke up still giggling, and then I went to the bathroom. In the dark I remembered what I was giggling about and I got upset because that went over some sort of line somewhere. I remember in my dream I was dancing in front of Kymm shouting, “How would I not guess your password was “M0rse_M0rse_M0rse?”

It borders on disgusting.

And I get to work today and notice that my name is now listed on the SXSW panel but I can’t even get excited about that because it makes me even geekier than I was yesterday and then my Handspring started beeping reminding me to send in my Get Real recap to Wing (who I think in my head as a “Wing,” even though she has a real name) and I looked up at my broken home computer, my busy iBook, my beeping electronic planner and my office PC while holding my large cup of coffee and my cell phone and I just was so overwhelmed by my own geekitude that I sprouted a pair of glasses which instantly broke and fixed themselves with tape across the bridge of my nose.

I over-geeked.

I then started downloading cheats for my Playstation games, and I joined alt.dungeonsanddragons. I started referring to other women as “Babes.” Acne formed on the top of my eyebrows. All of my sweaters turned into T-shirts for my company. My cardigans turned into t-shirts for printers and software. My Adidas turned into sandals with socks. My cargo pants became ill-fitting shorts that came to right at the top of my hairy knees. A small wannabe goatee formed on my chin and parts of my cheeks. My voice became out of control, and my laugh became a series of air spurts that sounded like a cross between wheezing and choking.

My CD collection turned into the entire Rush collection and the soundtrack to Deep Space Nine.

My picture of Eric and me in San Francisco became a framed picture of Pamela Anderson ripped from an old copy of Playboy.

There were seventeen books about Linux on my desk.

I had a craving for Ramen noodles.

And Jolt cola.

And obscure Techno music that would make me feel superior to others.

Then I e-mailed Stee to answer his question on how the penis works because I was suddenly a giant Know-It-All. He told me to stop sending him dirty e-mail or he’ll get fired.

I no longer knew anything about Welcome Back Kotter but I knew how to install a LAN using a Token Ring Adapter.

I started answering questions by saying, “Yeah, Baby!” or “Excellent.”

I created my own poll, answered it, and posted my results taking into account the error percentage.

I wrote a fan letter to Xena.

I bought a watch that had a face with a six inch radius. It has a GPS, a barometer, a slide rule, and a graphing calculator.

I gave up online journals to read

I started adding target=new in my html code so that new windows would pop up on my links instead of my readers going somewhere else and forgetting to come back. This improves my website’s “stickiness,” which is very important in today’s fast-changing e-commerce market. If I want to make my dot com start-up company go from vertical to virtual I’m going to have to ensure that my e-commerce has an e-business that is e-fficient and able to create a come-back factor. I have to be my own e-boss.

My socks have pictures of Millhouse on them.

I prank called my prom date.

I kept a journal of the number of steps it takes to get anywhere. I am sixty-seven steps from the bathroom and one hundred and nineteen steps from my car. One hundred and forty-five if I take the stairs.

I B-gan wrtng in e-code. LOL! *swak* —/–(@) (a rose for you)

I changed my name to Dirk. It’s radical.

I moved back in with my mother.

I downloaded all of the MP3’s I could find of the Watergate tapes and I’m conducting my own research into Nixon’s resignation that will indeed tie in with the Zapruder tapes of the Kennedy assassination.

I have nineteen cats. Each one of them is named after a different constellation.

Help me.

My name is pamie, and I’ve over geeked.

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