Duran Duran @ MindSay

The first time I was ever called a Geek was in Junior High School and it came as a shock to me.  The year was 1984, the month was May, and as summer was nigh, I got out of school late one evening because I had to serve detention for drawing in class... again (my math teacher also destroyed my artwork and my eyes were still sore from weeping with my face down on my desk -- I could've been punished for so many other much worse things, but the worst punishment for me to face was destruction of something I created).  My mother told me to stop crying so much, get on a bus and meet her at work.  Back then it was only 50 cents to ride the bus.  It would be a long ride to my mom's work, lucky me was prepared to never be bored because I always had a book or my journal to write in. 

As always, I seem to get attention where ever I go when I'm preoccupying myself with something creative.  I don't know why someone has to ask me what I'm drawing or writing or what is that book you're reading about.  At the age of 14, I didn't know better to say to other people that I didn't want to be bothered, but on this particular day, after being punished for drawing, I was anxious to talk to a sympathetic ear.  I remember this older girl getting on the bus.  She was big for her age, tall and fat with that look of bored disdain some big girls get when they've been picked on too often, or when they've been the one to do the picking on.  And like a lot of girls like her, she was wearing clothes too small for her so her rolls of jelly were peeking out like an extra layer of boobs under her tits.  Her face turned into a happy Buddah once she caught a peek at what I was reading, a limited edition collector's artbook for the movie Dune directed by David Lynch. 

"Excuse me, but what is that all about?" She outright asked me.  I softly explained it was a movie I liked.  Then she noticed my stack of sketchbooks and handpainted covers to my folders decorated with characters I had created.  At the time I was writing a book about a mage named Dorian and a bastard princess named Larissa, separated at birth because their parents didn't want their noble name tainted by one born to make magic, they are reunited after terrible circumstances too complicated for me to go into here.  Apparently this homemade fantasy of mine seemed most interesting, or so I thought, why else she ask about it?  "Did you draw that or copy those?"  The girl smiled.  Her interest filled me with great content. 

I was anxious to talk to anybody about an original story I was working on.  It's rare that someone took an interest.  My own family always has scoffed at my work, thinking it a waste of time and this often hurt me, but drawing and writing is something I love to do, is what I'm all about, and it was far better to put my dreams on paper instead of just day dreaming out loud.  Speaking of that, I went on a tangent.  I told this girl a little more than perhaps she wanted to know.  I was only 14, I didn't know not to speak so loud or so fast about a subject only I was excited about, but loneliness has a tendency to make me desperate to capture a friend instead of just make one.

Twenty minutes later, the girl gruffly tugged onto the stop wire and pulled herself off her seat.  As I was about to say good-bye and thanks for the chat, she turned her happy Buddah face into that one of dark disdain again and sliced into my ego with: "You're a real geek, you know that?"

I was crushed as she flipped me off and stood back on the corner, her eyes narrowed and hateful.  How could someone be so cruel?  As I fought off tears and turned on "New Moon on Monday" by Duran Duran on my walkman, I closed my eyes and wished for home.

"Shake up the picture the lizard mixture/ With your dance on the eventide/ You got me coming up with answers  All of which I deny... /I said it again but could I please re-phrase it /Maybe I can catch a ride..."

I remember the shadows of tree branches, moving sunbeams, the hum and bump of the bus, and that rubbery feel of my headphones kissing my inner ear.  My heart was troubled.  What did that mean?  I'm a real geek?  I didn't really know.  No one had ever called me that before.

"I couldnt really put it much plainer /But Ill wait till you decide /Send me your warning siren /As if I could ever hide /Last time la luna, I light my torch and wave it for the..."

What did it mean to be a real geek?  There was no dictionary for me to turn to.  All I knew was the way that girl said it, the curl of her bottom lip pouting out in disgust, her friendly eyes had lied, and why did she hate me so much?  I tried to think that perhaps she must've had a poorer life than mine.  Maybe her father beats her.  Or maybe she fancied herself as someone greater than thou?  I slipped deeper into my Duran Duran song, this time biting my lip, Simon leBon's vocals victoriously shouting away any new trace of tears.

"New moon on monday!  And a firedance through the night! I stayed the cold day with a lonely satellite!"

I had only heard the term "geek" later in reference to computer nerds and gamers, but I was not one with them.  When I got to the library the next day, I discovered that the meaning of geek was a derogatory reference to a person obsessed with intellectual pursuits for their own sake, who is also deficient in most other human attributes so as to impair the person's operation within society and perhaps that was what I was.  As an adult, I came to know "geek" to also mean someone who is creepy, a sideshow freak that eats bugs and other disgusting things as part of a strange stage act.  I certainly wasn't that!  But the memory of being called a geek in such a sudden and hurtful way still makes me shiver.  I have often considered people who turn on me like that to mean that maybe they were secretly jealous or just bored with my tidious sharing of fantasy worlds.  It made me self-conscious about opening up to strangers, made me hold back from telling a story or letting someone else read my work.  It wasn't until college that I found "my people" but even in writing worshops and open mic nights, I have never really fit in.

I began to form my own definition of geek.  I am an individual who rarely seeks social acceptance but desires to share unusual subjects, stories, and things with other people who rarely ever get exposed to what I find amusing.  The kind of geek I am is one who never fails to be the first to say the one thing no one wants to hear but wants to say.  I'm a geek to other geeks -- someone who works within this world yet dreams out loud and wakes other people up, tries to nudge them into a project or get other geeks to collaborate on something.  My devotion, my desires, my passion, my osbessions mark me as that friendly kind of weird anxious to talk the night away about my favorite subject.  Most of the time people will sit and listen as I talk so loud and so fast at them that I barely take time out to breathe, which also means they can never quite get a word in edge wise, so my enthusiasm sabotages many a friendship that should've been!  Yeah, because I'm the geek who seems to butt herself out of many a group of geeks, not often teaming up with members of her own species for long, if at all.

And what does this all have to do with New Moon on Monday?  Today is a new moon Monday.  A power house of a new moon in Libra that just happens to fall on a Monday.  It lulls me back to that old Duran Duran song, reminds me of the girl on the bus, takes me back to who I used to be in those humid summer days of Springfield, Missouri when I was the only girl out there who seemed to be dreaming out loud to anyone who would dare listen...

"Breaking away with the beast of both worlds /A smile that you cant disguise /Every minute I keep finding /Clues that you leave behind... /Save me from these reminders /As if Id forget tonight / This time la luna... !'

A Libra new moon has some pretty damn strong influence on one-to-one relationships, not only of the romantic sort.  It's a good time to look forward and divine some truth from the Tarot or runes or what-have-you and figure out how I can be a better human being to people I want to reach out to.  Not just to other people like me with my own unique sets of likes and dislikes and not gain an audience of me clones.  I don't think that would measure success in any long term.  Looking at the astrological combinations for today and tonight, I sense some heavy-duty celestial influence in the career sphere, especially for those who choose to be artists. 

Tonight it's time to embrace the inner geek who stand out like a sore thumb waiting to be sucked and: 

"Light YOUR torch and wave it for the... New moon on monday... And a firedance though the night... !"


The more you stand out, the best weird you can be!

Alerting msdania -- I think I just saw John Mayer play "Message in the Bottle" with Sting in The Police reunion performance during the Live Earth Concerts for a climate in crisis.  Am I right?

 

Here's my favorite performances so far:

Duran Duran performs "Planet Earth" for Live Earth

Spinal Tap reunites for Live Earth
with an Army of Bass Players (basically they made anyone with a bass guitar backstage come out and play)

I am the luckiest person in the world. I mean, it seems like every time I open my email, I receive a notice from the UK lottery telling me I won their grand prize. I’ve won it 5 times in the last week. I’ll never have to work another day in my life. Funny thing is, I never entered their lottery. Go figure.

I am sick and tired of all this freaken spam in my in box and it’s all because I’m selling my violin. Ever since I put it up for sale, I’ve been getting spammed left and right. If I receive one more email about some businessman dying in a plane crash and his wife needing to transfer millions of dollars or a bank official asking me to help them transfer an undisclosed amount of money I’m going to scream. I mean, come on people, if I went by these emails I’d never fly to Guatemala because according to these emails all their planes are crashing with millionaires on board.

My plans the last two nights have been shot to heck. Last night I was suppose to go see Duran Duran in concert but the person I was going with forgot to buy our tickets. RRRRR And tonight I was suppose to go see the FireStone Indy Race 200 that was in town but the tickets I had fell through. Watching it on ESPN is just not the same as seeing it in person. Not that I‘ve ever seen an Indy race in person, this was suppose to be my first race.

Time to watch Miss Congeniality 2. Woohoo! My excitement never ends.