How to Party Like a Geek

Two weeks ago, I hosted my first party ever.  I don't count bridal and baby showers I helped with, because that wasn't solo work.  Here's how it came about: I "recently" realized that the majority of my close friends are, like Ross and me, unashamedly geeky.  

There's Ryan, who knows more Doctor Who trivia than, I think, Steven Moffat himself.  There are my parents and their besties Lee and Shelly, who made Friday nights their double date nights for years - because that's when Stargate: SG-1 was on.  Oh, and their daughter Shannon, whose fashion sense would put her on par with any splashy comic book villainess or heroine.  There's also Ross's buddy Matt, who has taken on the heroic task of raising his three daughters to be geeky princesses, despite any good-natured intervention on the part of their non-geeky mom Jaime.  Not to mention, my new pal Emily, a quirky young artsy-type who refuses to let her son drink out of her Spiderman mug.

Other people have Superbowl parties, where they chow down on high-fat snacks and celebrate big, meaty guys punching each other around.  Some folks throw parties for awards shows, all the while sipping on frothy alcoholic beverages and making snarky comments about gowns, hair, and jewelry.  Why shouldn't I throw a bash celebrating all the things that, in the past, made me a social pariah?

Girl-cat squares off with Catwoman!

I sent out handmade invitations.  I spent hours researching to create the perfect trivia challenge, relying primarily on the Big Five: Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who, and a conglomeration of X-Men, Justice League and Avengers.  Yes, I realize that Harry Potter and Supernatural and about a million other franchises could have made their way into the mix as heavy hitters, but I considered my audience, and these were the fandoms that were most thoroughly represented among my nerdy kin. 

Totally retro. Photo cred: Emily G.

On the menu were Kryptonite Krunch (Chex Mix), Tribble Kibble (kettle corn), Iced SereniTea and Romulan Ale (blue Hawaiian Punch), Green Arrows and Black Canaries (celery sticks and pitted olives), T.A.R.D.I.P. (salsa con queso), Darth Taters (potato puffs), Obi-Wan Kielbasa (smoked sausage discs), Bowties Are Cool pasta and even chocolate-chip Wookiees.

I dressed as River Song, circa "Let's Kill Hitler" and sprayed my naturally curly hair into a huge hive of spoilers, and my husband donned his red captain's tunic (after polishing up his freshly shaved head).  

O Captain, my Captain!

I read the questions from my ThinkGeek T.A.R.D.I.S. journal as our guests observed our many geeky T-shirts, displayed as decoration.  Loki paraded her tiny little cat self around, getting into a bit of a tussle with Shannon, whose Catwoman costume might have intimidated her a bit.  Even Jaime, pregnant and dressed quite comfortably as a female version of Frodo Baggins, was pretty happy to win the doorprize - a Spiderman sippy bottle.

Loki lurves the Doctor.

Completition ramped up among the three carefully matched teams - The Terrible Tolkienators, the Raging Redshirts and the Kiss-My-Asgardians.  We learned that being a geek does not automatically mean that you've seen all the Star Wars movies.  We also learned that Emily does a beautiful whale impression, that most superhero themes sound alike, and that my dad didn't even need to wear the iconic orange hat for him to walk around the house scowling like Jayne, the hero of Canton.  We also learned that sweet Thor, despite his ultra-masculine name, is kind of a fraidy-cat and spend most of the party hiding.  He only appeared - as if freakishly on cue - when my dad and Emily were reading their hastily scribbled sci-fi story, about a race of catlike gods from the distant planet...Thorpiter.

The whole shebang - celebrate ALL the fandoms!

For one lovely evening, my house was full of heroes and villains, the whole Pond family, and one very photogenic little cat.  In retrospect, I think I would have made the trivia questions a little easier.  I also would have baked about three more batches of Darth Taters.

I got a request that our next batch have an 80's theme.  Which I can, like, totally handle.

Unless my dad shows up in legwarmers.

NWNE: An Excerpt

As promised to my faithful facebook friends and fans (and maybe some random people who took pity on me), here is a short little morsel of one of my two current novels-in-progress.  It's called Normal Was Never Enough.  This story, I admit, is nothing new: ordinary people find themselves suddenly in possession of abnormal powers.  It's a story literally as old as time itself, but I'm endeavoring to tell the story with a sense of humor, a sense of morality, and a sense of style.  In the following excerpt, we learn a little of the backstory of two of our main characters, Ben and Merrick.  Please do not use this, or any of my writing, without my explicit permission.  If you want to share, please post a link to my blog.  Thanks for protecting the integrity of my work!

With a bit of a sigh, Merrick muttered that Ben had darn well better appreciate what he was doing.  Ben glanced at Merrick’s Superman hoodie and stifled a grin, instead replying, “I know, man…thanks.  I didn’t know who else to take.  And you can’t beat free tickets.”

Merrick shrugged, his expression bland, but Ben saw through his façade.

Ever since they had met in fourth grade, when Merrick’s family moved to Pittsburgh, they’d pretended to be superheroes on the playground.  They had found a few (very few) like-minded friends and hunkered down in Merrick’s basement for hours of Dungeons and Dragons.  They vowed to each other that they’d always – always – get tickets to the midnight showings of the new action movies that came to town.  At least once a week, they snuck out of study hall to visit the local comic book shop.

Then Merrick got a girlfriend. 

            It was in eleventh grade.  The day was burned into Ben’s memory like the ring around an eclipse.  They’d made plans to pick up Mexican food and join a few buddies for a Star Wars marathon on cable.  He’d borrowed his parents’ station wagon and had stopped at Taco Bell (which was even busier than normal, as it was a Friday night).  He pulled into the Merricks’ driveway and stopped short.  Merrick was walking out the front door with a girl.

Not just any girl, of course.  A pretty girl.

Liz Cramer.  She wasn’t the most popular girl at school, not by any means – but she was cute, and she wore shorts that were just a little too short for school, and she had her own car, and she always smelled like apples.  That night, she was wearing impossibly tight jeans and a huge smile.  Merrick’s smile matched hers, but as Ben got out of the car, it faded.

“Oh, man,” he said, “I tried to get a hold of you before you left home.  I, uh, I can’t hang out tonight.”

“Hi, Ben,” Liz said.  She had a few fingers curled around Merrick’s hand.

Ben stood there for a moment, holding the soggy bag of tacos.  “But, nachos,” he said dumbly, as the grease dripped onto the sidewalk.

Merrick forced a grin and waved him off.  “We can get something for lunch tomorrow.  You don’t have to go to your grandpa’s, do you?”

Ben silently shook his head.  He had mowed his grandfather’s lawn two days before and it was still looking pretty good.  He was free for the weekend.  “But, Star Wars,” he pressed.

“Ah, I’ve seen it before,” Merrick said with a dismissive shrug.  “Hey, if you still wanna do something, I know that Curt and Billings are free tonight.  Maybe I can join you guys later, if I’m not out too late.”  He sent a raised eyebrow Liz’s way, and she grinned back.  She gave his hand a noticeable squeeze.

Ben hadn’t moved from his position outside the car.  Curt and Billings were supposed to meet up with them to watch the movies.  They always went to Merrick’s house because his parents didn’t mind them crashing in the basement.  They often played card games and watched movies late into the night, and it wasn’t unusual for them to wake up the next morning to Merrick’s (very attractive) mom flipping pancakes for them on a bright Saturday morning.

“Can’t Liz stay and watch the movies with us?” Ben persisted, hearing a bit of a whine creep into his voice.  The bag kept dripping.

“Ew, no,” Liz laughed good-naturedly.  “That’s not my thing.  Wait, that’s with the girl with the cinnamon bun hair and a whole bunch of robots, right?”

Ben’s face fell.  “Star Wars is…it’s a film that broke all types of records…it’s the ultimate story of good and evil.  It was ahead of its time.  It-it…”

“Cinnamon buns, yeah,” Merrick supplied as he guided Liz to her car.  “Give me a call tomorrow, Ben,” he threw over his shoulder as he opened the door for her.

At that very moment, the bag of tacos exploded onto the pavement, spattering Ben’s well-worn Nikes with grease and hot sauce.  Ben stood there, watching Liz and Merrick drive away, and, for the first time in his life, his confidence was shaken.  He’d always realized he was an introvert, a nerd, and he’d been fine with that – as long as he’d had someone to share in his nerdy indulgences.  Merrick’s betrayal was as cutting as if he’d used his Dark Elf to slay Ben’s Healer Priest.

As his socks began to soak up cheese sauce, Ben made the decision that he would never compromise who he was for something as trivial as a date with a pretty girl.

Which explains why he ended up spending most weekends alone.

 

And now, Merrick was “between girlfriends”, meaning that he was spending his weekends alone, too.  Ben had won a pair of tickets to the convention by answering some trivia on the radio, and he was quite pleased with himself.  Maybe, for a few hours, things would be like old times.  Before girls, before college, before jobs.  Merrick didn’t even seem to mind that Ben had donned his Doctor Who costume, complete with sonic screwdriver.

“You know there are going to be like eight million of you dressed like David Tennant,” Merrick had pointed out.

Ben grinned.  He copped a fairly decent British accent. “Right then, I’ll be in good company.  I’m not going for originality.  Just style.”

Merrick rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Can we just agree that we will try to act normal?”  When Ben turned an aghast face on him, Merrick amended, “Normal for geeks, I mean.”

“I’m in complete control,” Ben answered innocently.

As they entered the convention center, Ben felt himself getting giddy.  He barely paid attention to the bored-looking older gentleman scanning his ticket.  How could he, when he was surrounded by pointy-eared Vulcans and shiny androids and armed Avengers and two dozen other Time Lords?  He felt himself getting light-headed.  Then, he felt himself actually getting lighter.  He glanced down and noticed that his scuffed Converse sneakers were hovering a few inches above the floor.  He tried not to panic and forced himself back to the ground.  Merrick, watching a bikini-clad slave Leia saunter past, hadn’t noticed.

Ben wasn’t ready to tell him yet.  Maybe after the convention.  Maybe never.  Things had changed so much between them that he didn’t know if he could trust Merrick anymore.  Not the say he used to.  He wanted to.  But this wasn’t gossip or a secret crush he had to talk about.  This wasn’t high school drama.  This was real.  He took a deep breath and suggested they head to the booths and check out some local comic book artists. 

Merrick, still eyeing the princess, half-heartedly nodded agreement.

Every Story Has a Beginning

Inspired largely by my favorite movie, this now-classic short musical, my artsy and talented sister-in-law Lindsey, my ten-year-old-boy-stuck-in-a-man's-body husband Ross, and his ten-year-old-boy-stuck-in-a-man's-body best friend Ryan, I am finally sitting down and pounding out my own superhero saga.

Like many children, when I was younger, I dreamed of having superpowers.  My mom taped (yes, on VHS!) the late-night reruns of Batman for my sister and me, and we'd watch them after school the next day.  My favorite villain was Vincent Price as Egghead.  Well, I liked Catwoman, too.  Classy lady.  As I got older, I took countless online tests comparing me to the X-Men (I always came up as Jean Grey, by the way). I designed my own superhero outfit.  I wrote myself into my favorite action, adventure, and science fiction stories and movies.  

Unfortunately, none of that translated into physical activity, and so I was a pudgy, pale-faced, wheezing kid with dreams of grandeur.  

At least I could write.

And I still can.

When Ross and Ryan get together, they rarely talk about their college days (they were in the same fraternity at Grove City).  They don't talk much about video games (Ryan's not really into that) or partying (Ross's wild oats are all dead).  They talk about comic books and superheroes.  I, of course, being nosy and possessing a great deal of superhero soap-opera knowledge from my youth, dislike sitting back and letting the boys play, so I'm in on those chats, too.

Ryan's favorite is Superman.  Ross likes Wolverine.  I am a fan of Batgirl.  I mean, if I had to choose.

I wonder.  There are tests to determine which superhero your personality is most like, but are there tests to determine what your favorite hero says about you?  Talk about psychoanalysis.  Ryan: split-personality disorder.  Ross: mean streak.  Becky: insomniac.

At any rate, I have been playing with a plot for some time now.  I have the characters themselves in my mind, but I am still hashing out the details: how did they get their powers?  How are they dealing with them?  What are they doing with them?  Are they going to wear costumes?  If so...who makes them?  Tights or no tights?  These are important questions, people.

They will soon, I hope, be answered.  Stay tuned until next time...same Bat Blog...same Bat Website!  (Are you hearing the 60's theme song in your head right now?  Good.  My work is done here.)