Forget six-pack abs, I like a man with a brain. Which is why I perked up when I saw this headline on my homepage this morning. How to flirt with a nerd? Show me the ways, o wise one.
And now for the big question: Where can I find a speed-dating nerd night? Sign me up!
Showing posts with label nerds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nerds. Show all posts
Friday, January 8, 2010
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Nerd Limit
It's been two weeks since I broke things off with the Highlander. It's taken me these two weeks to be able to talk about something that happened that final, fateful weekend with High. See, I have a thing for nerds. But this Incident pushed me way, waaaaay past my nerd limit. We'll call it The Walkie-Talkie Incident.
Before leaving for the beach, High showed me some walkie-talkies that he had picked up along the way and had never used. He may have suggested we each keep one, since we only lived 1.3 miles apart, and the walkie-talkies were supposed to work up to 3 miles, so we could talk to each other while we were in our own homes. I reminded him of the invention of the telephone and chose to ignore the statement.
The walkie-talkies were out of sight and mind until we were driving down to the beach. My iPod/radio transmitter needed new batteries, and he announced that he had them. I was rather shocked to learn that he carries batteries on him, until he whipped out the walkie-talkies to borrow their batteries. It seemed harmless enough, bringing walkie-talkies to the beach, but then things got out of control. When we stopped to get gas and go to the bathroom, he tried to insist that I take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. You know, in case anything were to happen. It was 4:00 in the afternoon, and we were at a busy highway gas station. I thought surely he was joking, but he wasn't. He was dead serious. Needless to say, I refused to take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. I got him off my back by telling him that I would turn it on so he could hear me peeing. Or that I would throw it in the toilet.
When we got to the beach and he immediately took off, as he had no interest in actually being at the beach, he of course took a walkie-talkie with him and left one with me. Then he proceeded to annoy me from within a 3-mile radius with constant, mundane updates while I was trying to read my beachy chick-lit. My enjoyment of the latest Meg Cabot was interupted by such uninspired musings as "I'm sitting on a bench under some trees. It's really nice over here," or "Hey, I'm standing here watching some tiny crabs. They're all over the place!" (We were at the beach!) Then he tried to engage me in some conversation and couldn't figure out why I didn't have much to say. Are you kidding me? A casual chat via the walkie-talkie? Maybe if someone would have actually been sitting next to me on the beach blanket instead of trying to talk to me from a bench in the woods, I would have been a bit more chatty. I was never sure what my nerd limit was, but now I know, and this is definitely it.
Upon my return home, I casually left the walkie-talkie part out of my story, mainly because I think I was trying to block it out. Now, however, I realize its comic value. I mean, really. Walkie-talkies in the bathroom?
Before leaving for the beach, High showed me some walkie-talkies that he had picked up along the way and had never used. He may have suggested we each keep one, since we only lived 1.3 miles apart, and the walkie-talkies were supposed to work up to 3 miles, so we could talk to each other while we were in our own homes. I reminded him of the invention of the telephone and chose to ignore the statement.
The walkie-talkies were out of sight and mind until we were driving down to the beach. My iPod/radio transmitter needed new batteries, and he announced that he had them. I was rather shocked to learn that he carries batteries on him, until he whipped out the walkie-talkies to borrow their batteries. It seemed harmless enough, bringing walkie-talkies to the beach, but then things got out of control. When we stopped to get gas and go to the bathroom, he tried to insist that I take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. You know, in case anything were to happen. It was 4:00 in the afternoon, and we were at a busy highway gas station. I thought surely he was joking, but he wasn't. He was dead serious. Needless to say, I refused to take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. I got him off my back by telling him that I would turn it on so he could hear me peeing. Or that I would throw it in the toilet.
When we got to the beach and he immediately took off, as he had no interest in actually being at the beach, he of course took a walkie-talkie with him and left one with me. Then he proceeded to annoy me from within a 3-mile radius with constant, mundane updates while I was trying to read my beachy chick-lit. My enjoyment of the latest Meg Cabot was interupted by such uninspired musings as "I'm sitting on a bench under some trees. It's really nice over here," or "Hey, I'm standing here watching some tiny crabs. They're all over the place!" (We were at the beach!) Then he tried to engage me in some conversation and couldn't figure out why I didn't have much to say. Are you kidding me? A casual chat via the walkie-talkie? Maybe if someone would have actually been sitting next to me on the beach blanket instead of trying to talk to me from a bench in the woods, I would have been a bit more chatty. I was never sure what my nerd limit was, but now I know, and this is definitely it.
Upon my return home, I casually left the walkie-talkie part out of my story, mainly because I think I was trying to block it out. Now, however, I realize its comic value. I mean, really. Walkie-talkies in the bathroom?
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The quest: The official report
Introduction
I've said it before and I'll say it again, as a scientist, hot colleagues are few and far between. I'm not saying we're bad-looking, I'm just saying years in the lab have made us a little more pale, out of shape and socially awkward. As Violet pointed out, "hot scientist" sounds like an oxymoron, just like "interesting accountant" or "ugly quarterback." Biologists aren't too bad, but I've noticed in my years of science that those that study life science (that's me) are far better off than those that don't (Don't even get me started the pale/awkwardness of chemists and physicists, yuck!).
Honestly most people in this field are decent looking but none of them have the classic Whoa-that-guy-is-so-hot-I-don't-even-need-a-Punnit-square-to-determine-the-likelihood-of-our-children-being-hot! (commonly referred to as the "Whoa factor") good looks (what doesn't everyone think like that?). So many creatures in the scientific field lack this Whoa factor, that it leads experts (me) to ponder it's existence. This brings us to The Quest. The purpose of this study was not to meet and live happily after with this proposed model of a Hot Scientist, but to merely prove that they do, in fact, exist.
Methods and Materials
This was an observational study conducted on an aclectic gathering of scientific communities over the course of 7 days. To determine hotness, subjects of interest were thouroughly "checked out" by performing a complete characterization without making direct contact. Subjects were evaluated qualitatively based on face, hair, body, clothing, overall appearance/awkwardness and credentials. A generous (and borderline embarassing) amount of time was given to making these assessments.
Results
In a gathering of approximately 320 participants, 90% were estimated to be married. The Whoa Factor was not present in the population, though several males achieved an above average rating of "I'd date him." The Hot Scientist remains elusive. Severe head-turning was found in the college downtown area. Though these men presumably were not scientists, they were so hot that a permanent move into the area is under further consideration by researchers (me).
Discussion
Though results were disappointing, findings in this study indicate great potential in this field. Within my conference I checked out several good-looking men, my age, who were not completely socially awkward. Though they lacked the Whoa Factor, I'd be more likely to date them than a true Hot Scientist. The fact that these above average looking men exists greatly increases the chances that the elusive Hot Scientist exists as well, I just need to attend a larger meeting. I would say I remain hopeful for further studies, though one of my greatest professors once corrected me with this by saying, "there's no hope in science!"
This week has made me wonder if I really want to date a scientist at all. Some of them can just not turn off the science talk (what a drag!). Besides, as a student of "science school" (as HOG and MF call it) I can say just about anything that sounds remotely scientific and people will believe me. And that can be pretty darn fun.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, as a scientist, hot colleagues are few and far between. I'm not saying we're bad-looking, I'm just saying years in the lab have made us a little more pale, out of shape and socially awkward. As Violet pointed out, "hot scientist" sounds like an oxymoron, just like "interesting accountant" or "ugly quarterback." Biologists aren't too bad, but I've noticed in my years of science that those that study life science (that's me) are far better off than those that don't (Don't even get me started the pale/awkwardness of chemists and physicists, yuck!).
Honestly most people in this field are decent looking but none of them have the classic Whoa-that-guy-is-so-hot-I-don't-even-need-a-Punnit-square-to-determine-the-likelihood-of-our-children-being-hot! (commonly referred to as the "Whoa factor") good looks (what doesn't everyone think like that?). So many creatures in the scientific field lack this Whoa factor, that it leads experts (me) to ponder it's existence. This brings us to The Quest. The purpose of this study was not to meet and live happily after with this proposed model of a Hot Scientist, but to merely prove that they do, in fact, exist.
Methods and Materials
This was an observational study conducted on an aclectic gathering of scientific communities over the course of 7 days. To determine hotness, subjects of interest were thouroughly "checked out" by performing a complete characterization without making direct contact. Subjects were evaluated qualitatively based on face, hair, body, clothing, overall appearance/awkwardness and credentials. A generous (and borderline embarassing) amount of time was given to making these assessments.
Results
In a gathering of approximately 320 participants, 90% were estimated to be married. The Whoa Factor was not present in the population, though several males achieved an above average rating of "I'd date him." The Hot Scientist remains elusive. Severe head-turning was found in the college downtown area. Though these men presumably were not scientists, they were so hot that a permanent move into the area is under further consideration by researchers (me).
Discussion
Though results were disappointing, findings in this study indicate great potential in this field. Within my conference I checked out several good-looking men, my age, who were not completely socially awkward. Though they lacked the Whoa Factor, I'd be more likely to date them than a true Hot Scientist. The fact that these above average looking men exists greatly increases the chances that the elusive Hot Scientist exists as well, I just need to attend a larger meeting. I would say I remain hopeful for further studies, though one of my greatest professors once corrected me with this by saying, "there's no hope in science!"
This week has made me wonder if I really want to date a scientist at all. Some of them can just not turn off the science talk (what a drag!). Besides, as a student of "science school" (as HOG and MF call it) I can say just about anything that sounds remotely scientific and people will believe me. And that can be pretty darn fun.
Monday, May 25, 2009
The Vertical Challenge
I like nerds. I like sports. I make no secret of either of those facts. And tonight I had a date with a neuroscientist, and he suggested we go to the park to play catch. This should be a dream come true, but for some reason, I needed both Scarlet and Grayer to tell me how excited I should be about it. They were right, I should have been very excited about it, but for some reason, I couldn't really get pumped up. Have my expectations just been lowered by all the other disappointments? Or, (a very likely explanation) am I just looking forward more to John Boy being back in town?
While I was waiting for him at our designated location, a man about 60 with white hair parked in front of the bench I was sitting on, got out of the car, and said, "Are you waiting for me?"
"No," I answered. Because if this was somehow the Neuroscientist, I didn't want to admit who I was anyway.
"Oh, darn!" said the white haired man. It was then that the Neuroscientist walked up. I stood up, and immediately regretted it. The Neuroscientist is vertically challenged. I was definitely taller.
This is a phenomenon I've noticed about online dating. Men exaggerate their height. Unless they are over six feet tall, they add a few inches to their height on their profiles. I'm not an abnormally tall woman, but I have a few inches on both Scarlet and Grayer, and when I'm wearing heels, I appear to be a tall woman. I'm just not attracted to men who are shorter than me. It's awkward.
Not only am I taller than him, but I also have a better arm than than he does. That's nothing new, but when I asked John Boy why I'm still single, he answered that men could possibly be intimidated by me. I don't think I'm an intimidating person, but as he also pointed out, I go after nerds and the like, who are more likely to be intimidated by someone by me. So I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't get a call for a second date from the Neuroscientist, even if it did go well otherwise.
And by the way, on the way back by our meeting point, the white haired man was sitting there with a more age appropriate woman, chatting and drinking coffee. Clearly they were doing the same thing. It was really very sweet.
While I was waiting for him at our designated location, a man about 60 with white hair parked in front of the bench I was sitting on, got out of the car, and said, "Are you waiting for me?"
"No," I answered. Because if this was somehow the Neuroscientist, I didn't want to admit who I was anyway.
"Oh, darn!" said the white haired man. It was then that the Neuroscientist walked up. I stood up, and immediately regretted it. The Neuroscientist is vertically challenged. I was definitely taller.
This is a phenomenon I've noticed about online dating. Men exaggerate their height. Unless they are over six feet tall, they add a few inches to their height on their profiles. I'm not an abnormally tall woman, but I have a few inches on both Scarlet and Grayer, and when I'm wearing heels, I appear to be a tall woman. I'm just not attracted to men who are shorter than me. It's awkward.
Not only am I taller than him, but I also have a better arm than than he does. That's nothing new, but when I asked John Boy why I'm still single, he answered that men could possibly be intimidated by me. I don't think I'm an intimidating person, but as he also pointed out, I go after nerds and the like, who are more likely to be intimidated by someone by me. So I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't get a call for a second date from the Neuroscientist, even if it did go well otherwise.
And by the way, on the way back by our meeting point, the white haired man was sitting there with a more age appropriate woman, chatting and drinking coffee. Clearly they were doing the same thing. It was really very sweet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)