Pet names

Occasionally, one or the other of us will be asked whether we have pet names for each other.  He seems to get this question more often.

The answer is, sort of.

In true geek form, we have adopted internet abbreviations of the terms of endearment used by Khal Drogo (sigh!) and Daenerys (aka the Khaleesi aka–spoiler alert–the Dragon).  She calls him “My sun and stars” and he calls her “Moon of my life.”  I find these names honestly poetic, but perhaps too much so for use in a relationship.  After all, I do not live in a Shakespeare play–nor do I think I would want to, as a side note.  I did say it would be funny if we adopted them for every day use, such as in the following examples:

My sun and stars, we seem to be out of milk.

Moon of my life, don’t forget to take the washing out of the machine.

Also, this is so us in the flesh.

Because at the moment we are in a long distance relationship, this has taken on an added internet dimension.  First he started by abbreviating it to moml, and I responded with msas.  Then we started with emoticons: and   &  .  He even found animated ones with a sun rising, which I don’t know how he did because I can’t even refind it on my email.  This then proceeded to him saying “moml” as though it was a word.  I have less success–“msas” isn’t exactly easy to pronounce.

This makes me think, though.  I like the idea of a somewhat more earnest nickname as well.  Once he called me “sweet pea” which I thought was really cute, to the point of blushing over it.  It’s a nice idea to be something flowery and feminine.  Some girls hate the idea of pink and such; I am not one of them.  Moreover, I really liked the unironic use of a term of endearment.

I’ve always wanted, but never really had, a good nickname.  My sister has one for me which is god-awful, and which she is trying to make catch on.  I have told msas that if he calls me by that nickname ever, it’s over.  I tried Carrie for awhile when I was 10 or 11, and it didn’t stick.  When I was a lonely 6th grader I dreamed of reinventing myself in high school, and that reinvention would begin with a nickname.  That didn’t happen.  In fact, my band teacher was notorious for giving students interesting nicknames (“Crazy Lips Flores,” e.g.), and I never got one.

The thing about nicknames is that they are a private/ public way of saying “you belong to me.”  Not in a creepy possessive way, but more a you’re-a-part-of-my-life way.  It’s the same reason ‘we’ and ‘us’ are such lovely words, because it’s shorthand for saying that I mean something to someone, and they in turn mean something to me.  Obviously there are the offhand terms of endearment like dear and honey and sweetheart, but I like the idea of something more unique and special.  For now, msas is working for me.

 

A postscript–It strikes me that I need a way to reference him on this blog, as it would be an obvious faux pas.  I shall have to wait for inspiration to strike (probably in the form of him dictating an idea to me).

Geeks in Love

It was a long dry spell.

Nine years and a couple of months to be exact, and there were lots of reasons for that.  But over those nine years, I grew a bit terrified of the idea of being intimate with someone, even though I wanted it very badly at the same time.  And when I say intimate I don’t mean in the bedroom (although there was that too, but that’s for another post).  I mean letting someone in to see my life, all my crazy hobbies, and all my weird passions.

I have a lot.  I crochet and do calligraphy.  I’m trying to teach myself the piano.  I write a *lot,* and I do a lot of team writing with my best friend in England, which means a whole ton of computer time.  But this is all nothing compared to my passions.  Boy, I can geek out with the best of them.  Some examples:

Les Miserables: The number of times I’ve seen this musical equals the number of years I’ve been alive.  I’m now 32.  In addition, I can sing the entire show from curtain to curtain.  I mean it…all three hours.  Test me.  Some songs (most songs) I can sing in French.  I’ve read the book, the brick of an unabridged edition, half a dozen times, and twice in French.  On a slightly more impressive note, I have wangled a backstage tour of the Imperial theater in NYC.  When I go to Paris, I try to find all the places in the book.  Actually, arguably I studied for a year in Paris due in large part to Les Mis.  Basically, if someone in my general vicinity mentions Les Mis, I do something between a squeal and a sigh and then start to talk really fast.  I think I really freaked out my principal last year because I practically had a brain aneurysm when he said he was going to see it.

The Chronicles of Narnia:  Narnia is one of my first obsessions, an early passion.  Before I knew what fan fiction was I was spinning stories about the Pevensies.  Now I live and breathe them.  I have turned my love for Narnia into a passion project of my own, and write roleplays every single day.  Seriously–the number of days I don’t roleplay a year has got to be less than 30.  I look for Narnia everywhere, and feel a little prickle of excitement every time I catch.  As I type this, I am drinking out of a Voyage of the Dawn Treader movie cup.  And a letter opener that is a replica of Peter’s sword sits on my bookcase.  And I have action figures in my bedroom…

Shakespeare: I make a habit of memorizing Shakespearean speeches.  I love reading his plays.  Every year when we get to Julius Caesar, I geek out in front of my students and just start spewing quotations like lava.  Seriously–at the moment I can quote probably about 10 speeches off the top of my head.  It is pretty sad, because I actually want to.  No one ever asks me to.  I wonder why.

This is just the tip of the iceberg.  I’m a big ol’ geek.

Paradoxically, while I would never in a million years give any of these things up, I’m always afraid to show them.  I was watching this show “New Girl” and Zooey Deschanel makes a reference to Lord of the Rings, and the guy who is helping her get guys helpfully said “Why don’t we just bury the Lord of the Rings references in a deep, dark place where no one will find them.”  She says, “Except Gollum,” which is funny.  Except…that’s what I always think about my passions/ obsessions.  I love them, but will anyone ever understand why I love them, or do they in turn make me unlovable…or unfuckable?  Seriously–fear.

But as it happens, my paramour is a geek too.  He loves Dr. Who to the point where he’ll stop talking to me if it’s on, and he knows more about cricket than any ordinary person should.  He has superhuman skills in Rock Band gained through hours of practice, and he has told me about singing in three microphones at once to hit the harmonies, and how he lusts after the pro guitar controller.  He has not one, but two Game of Thrones t-shirts.  And this is just the tip of his iceberg.

I can’t tell you how attractive I find all this.

I can be my full fledged geeky self, and he won’t think I’m weird.  No–instead, he’ll take me to see not just Hamlet, but also Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.  He’ll show me his Les Mis record and happily tolerate a half hour of me singing along.  In fact, we went to see it in London and during “Master of the House” *he mouthed all the words.*  We once had a twenty minute debate on whether Frodo was heroic or not–in which I was right.  And at the end, I’m not unfuckable.  He *might* even think it’s cute.  I’m not sure.

But the point is, I don’t have to hide my geekiness.  I can celebrate it.  And that is a very auspicious sign.