Happy Geek

I worry from time to time that I'm too old to be a comic book nerd. I'm thirty one years old and I have an Avengers phone case and pencil case (I don't even own pencils), a glossy print of Robert Downey Jr as Iron Man (swoon!), an Avengers window sticker and lots of Marvel comics. Oh and I may have several t-shirts. Ten years ago I'd pee with laughter at the thought of being such a nerd, but nowadays I pee with excitement at the thought of being such a nerd. I get butterflies when I see trailers for Marvel movies. The fact that all the guys in the Avengers team are completely humptastic is, of course, nothing to do with it *ahem*.

I reckon that, subconsciously, part of the attraction is the fantasy of men who can protect and save whilst staying honourable. Captain America; strong, true-hearted, brave, respectful towards women and jolly good-mannered! You'd definitely take ole Cap to meet your mum. Then you have Tony Stark; great looking (it's R.D.J, I'm biased!), richer than Midas, funny, brave. Ok, so he's a bit arrogant, but who wouldn't be when you've got skills like that?? Thor, or should I say "Phwoar"! Well....need I say more? (I didn't actually intend for that rhyme to happen, I'm quite impressed). Basically, it's every quality we find an extreme rarity in real life.

Outside of the films and into the comics you have an array of talent, with plenty of bad boys for all you women who like to pick the wrong types! I'm busting to get to Comic-Con if only just to get amongst fellow nerds in their Marvel costumes! God, the thought of Comic-Con actually made me smile, I definitely just hit the nerd alert button. 

It certainly makes me smile when I think of how I used to mock the spotty little nerds at school. I never entertained the thought of dating them, I never entertained the thought of being so "sad" as to spend my nights chatting about comic books. If any of them knew me now I would definitely get a few raised eyebrows and smug looks. Plus I bet they're almost as hot as Tony Stark and Steve Rogers nowadays. Damn.

I've thought many times about what my special power would be if I were a superhero. Don't judge me; I bet you've all done the same! I keep changing my mind. Sometimes I think invisibility would be the coolest power to have, I don't need to explain to you why (where did you say Michael Bublés dressing room was again...?). But then I think telekinetic powers would be pretty awesome too. Coincidently, you know you're becoming a geek when you use the word awesome. To move things around with my mind and see the shock and confusion on peoples faces would be hilarious. But that wouldn't make me a proper superhero, that'd make me a nuisance. To have the super-fit skills of Natasha Romanoff, the precision shooting skills of Hawkeye, the power to heal like the Scarlet Witch, to be able to fly like Iron Man, telepathic/telekinetic powers of Jean Grey; I'd have a whole series of comics dedicated especially for me! It's a whole world of fantasy that's a whole world better than the day to day trivial matters we deal with on a daily basis. Escapism; never underestimate it.

I may be a nerd now, but I'm pretty sure I was cool once. Then again, who's to say what's cool and what's not? I think multi-millionaire Stan Lee is the answer to that question.

Summer Holiday: RIP

Oh dear. Back in the UK again. I try not to complain too much about this country (I mean the actual UK itself,not the weirdos and chavs and politicians who roam it. I've plenty to complain about those) but when you enter into 8 degrees after flying away from 32 degrees, it kind of puts things into an obvious perspective. Our weather is shit. When we landed in Gatwick the cold was almost unbearable. Anybody would think I'd been living in Cyprus for years, but after a mere seven days I had already become acclimatised to the heat, so getting out of the plane at Gatwick felt like walking into someone's Smeg. With the icebox on overload. Since I've been home the sun has come out a few times but it's still too cold to sunbathe. Instead, I've been sunbathing on my lounge carpet where the sun shines through the window. Desperate measures. I make myself an ice cold daiquiri and pretend I'm back in Cyprus. Just without the blue sky, azure sea, white sand, gorgeous waiters, pool, great food, etc. 

The wedding was fabulous. The bridesmaid was amazing *ahem*. All the wedding guests were lovely and there were no fights! (a little disappointing). I'm not into public displays of emotion (from myself. Other than rage of course) but even I had a few tears in my eyes. Probably the sun shining in them...*cough*. Getting the bride into her dress (how many fucking eyelet holes does one dress need???? God dang fiddly ribbon!) and walking down a fuckload of stone steps in heels were the only two hairy moments. I had a little trouble getting the dress done up and, even though she didn't say so, I could sense Sarah starting to stress. The steam coming out of her ears was a subtle sign. Going down the huge steps I heard Sarah whisper; "Are you ok Leigh Anne"? All I could muster was; "Mmhmmm", as I tried desperately not to arse over my dress train. I've not concentrated that much since school! Ha! Who am I kidding; as if I ever concentrated at school!

My only issue with the holiday was our hotel charging for wifi use. Charging!!! Oh if only I'd known some Greek swear words. It took me five days to learn to say Hello, and that was just in English. Kidding. It's sad when you reach a stage where you're in a beautiful country with lots of things to do and lots of cocktails to drink, but the most important thing is finding somewhere with free wifi. Each time we found a place with free wifi I felt as if I'd found an air bubble after having trouble breathing. Such a sad turn of events. But, all was fabulous! Sarah and Kirk are married and happy, and I didn't fuck up in my role of Bridesmaid. I didn't even get burnt! I rejected Stavros the waiters offer of a "stroll" along the beach. I didn't hire a quad bike and crash into a restaurant. Nor did I get seriously drunk and puke outside a kebab shop. In fact I think it's best I go back and try again! After all, I am a perfectionist. 

Kalimera Stavros....!

Burn After Reading

After a difficult few weeks at work, and finding out the guy I was seeing was shagging his ex-girlfriend, I'm so ready for my holiday this week! Seven days in Paphos and bridesmaid duties for Sarah and Kirk. Holiday and being a bridesmaid has definitely not come cheap, but it's worth it and I deserve it!

I've chosen my Mum as my plus one, given that she hasn't been abroad since before I was born and there are no men worthy of being my holiday companion. So it's going to be a case of Sun, Sea, and No Sex Please I'm With My Mum. Not that I'm in a rush to have a man anywhere near me again anytime soon, not after the last few. Well, after all of them really. The last guy was an excellent bullshitter, I'll give him that. He looked me straight in the eyes and said "I'm not like the other guys, I'd never hurt you in any way". He seemed extremely sincere at the time. The fact that he claimed to be neurotic about keeping things clean and tidy, whilst his bathroom had mould older than Gandalf, should've warned me early on that he wasn't completely honest.  It's hard to know what to believe now. Men claim that women are paranoid and they don't understand why, well guys...now you know! Also, always remember this; we always find out, one way or another, when you're dipping your stick in somebody else's honey pot. I'm not angry, I don't think I'm even that surprised. I'm certainly not going to be bitter about it. I just hope his dick falls off.

Anyway, enough about the latest douchebag, lets get back to the holiday! I'm excited, but before the fun of the holiday comes the unfortunate experience of flying; and the consequent projectile vomiting. I've only actually thrown up once on a plane but that was bad enough - have you ever tried communicating with non-English speaking Spanish airport cleaners? Not understanding me trying to explain I've been sick in this bag led to me having to actually act out being sick into the bag. People pretty much kept their distance from me at the baggage collection point. Nevertheless, I very much dislike feeling sick so am not looking forward to the flight, and no amount of sugar-free sucky sweets is going to stop my eardrum from feeling like its going to implode. 

After a day of recovering I shall celebrate our landing with copious amounts of cocktails. According to the hotel website we have a poolside bar! I'm not sure swimming whilst under the influence of an extravagant cocktail of various alcoholic substances is an entirely great idea, not since the last time I almost took out my eye on the cocktail umbrella, but hey...we only live once. Sink or swim! In my case; sink. Most importantly, I need to ensure I don't make the mistake of falling asleep in the sun whilst reading my book, not like I did last month when I woke up looking like I'd had an all-over chemical peel with sulphuric acid.

I'm slightly concerned about the food out there. The closest I've ever gotten to Greek food is a bag of cheesy puffs I bought once in Spain called Hercules Puffs. I had taramasalata in a Greek place in Canada years ago and that was gorgeous, nothing like the shit you buy in supermarkets that tastes like the manufacturers just packaged up something a fish puked up. I believe kebabs are quite popular over there. Similar to England I guess, although it'll be weird standing in a kebab shop without hearing chavs swearing at the counter assistant, and a drunken hobo pissing up the wall outside. Anyway, if I don't find any food I like I could always survive the week on cocktails, at least they have fruit in them.

This will be my first holiday abroad in four years so I'm determined to have a good time. I'm going to do as many touristy things as I can possibly fit in, drink as many cocktails as my liver can fit in, and avoid as many dodgy kebabs as my bowels can fit in. Or out, as the case may be. Hopefully the wedding will go nice and smooth too, preferably without me arsing down the steps tangled in my dress train. Then, when I get back I shall immerse myself in work and my friends. If at any point I decide to be stupid enough to start dating again you can guarantee the first thing I'll be checking out is the bathroom; it says a lot about a man.