I established my dorkdom at a young age. The summer I was ten, I spent every day reading. Every day. While my sister and best friend whizzed by on their bikes to find adventure, I sat in a lawn chair out in front of my house with my nose buried in my latest book. Carolyn Keene provided enough adventure for me, thank you very much. One day a neighbor walked over and in hushed tones asked my mother if I was sick. “No,” my mom said, “that’s just Rosemary.”
Yes, it's a shrine to Jane Austen. Wanna make somethin' of it?
I found out the hard way that not everyone embraced dorkitude with quite the same fervor as I, guys in particular. I distinctly remember sitting around one day in high school with a group of girls and guys, one of whom was my crush at the time. We were sharing our future dreams, and I started rhapsodizing about living on a windswept coast in New England, in a big white house just like the one in The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. I described a quaint little town with a big library full of dusty old books. When I stopped for breath, I noticed my crush looking at me with a blank face. “That’s your idea of fun?” he said. Clearly, there was no future for us.
As a brand new teacher, one of the first things I did when I got my paycheck was to become a member of my local PBS station, and proudly sported my Channel Thirteen totebag each morning as I walked in the door. One day a male co-worker pointed to it, saying, “You know what that bag says? That bag says I don’t want to get laid any time soon. ” Ouch.
Further evidence of Dork-O-Rama:
I actually wear this.
On a trip to London back in the 80s, I made my husband rent a car so he could drive me to Chawton so I could tour Jane Austen’s house. Before it was cool, I might add. Did I mention it was our honeymoon? One of a multitde of reasons I know I married the Right Guy.
I have a collection of Great Women in Literature magnets. The Masterpiece Theatre music gives me goosebumps. I read Middlemarch every year. I have a Will Shakespeare action figure. (Complete with First Folio!) A Room of One’s Own makes me cry. And there can never be enough costume dramas for me. If it’s got corsets and great coats, I’m there.
Sometimes he hangs out with Jane.
Those of you who rule dorkdoms of your own know what exactly what I’m talking about. Sadly, there are those who never will. But I don’t have time to think about them right now–there’s a lawn chair outside with my name on it.
♥ ♥ ♥
My two older sisters always tell me I’m a dork because I’d rather read instead of “______” fill in the blank – go out to dinner, lunch, breakfast, out on the town, a movie, whatever. I just love to read instead of doing anything else practically. My definition of a nerd, anyway.
Patti, I used to bring my books to the dinner table and hide them in my lap. Mom always knew, of course. Other moms would scold their kids about picking up a book now and then–mine was always telling me to put mine down and go outside once and a while. Hence the lawn chair.
Right there with you, particularly on the costume dramas! My GF’s always want to go see chick flicks, but I prefer Cate Blanchett over Katherine Heigl (am I even spelling that right?) I do not, however, have a PBS tote bag. That might be taking it a bit far.
I loved that totebag! But it did absolutely nothing to increase my coolness factor.
See, if you had gone to Oberlin as I did, that totebag wouldn’t have been an issue. A school of dorks and misfits, is was (and I loved it).
Rosemary: I think its a shame I haven’t read all of your posts, since you seem hell bent on walking inside my head. The extreme difference is hardly a concern, in spirit we are sisters. I was the tom boy who didn’t actually have a “girl” friend until jr.h.s. My radio, books and my own resources were my main stay when not trying to survive the boys on the block.
Yeah, we tawked funny and I lived off Tird Ave and Tirdy-ninth St. Tird it pronouced more like “turd” … lost the Brooklyn, never lost “the city” and miss everything wonderful about summers near the Jersey Shore. For the short time I traveled there … further down with my friends towards magical Cape May and her Victorian homes … it was a great escape. My seaside days were actually Coney Island …
Yes, and green thumbs? I once told my mother that if she and my husband decided to bring in a truck loaded with wet concrete and paved my entire yard, it would be more useful … I might have had my own handball court.
whatever … nose in books, head in the clouds, I found my groove.
Yes, and the photograph of the wisteria is magnificent. Makes me think of Wisteria Lodge by Conan Doyle.
Thanks so much for the kind words! (And it sounds like we need to have a conversation one of these days.)
“Nose in books, head in the clouds” would make a great name for someone’s blog, by the way.
Glad you stopped by!
What a great post, and how nice to discover–once again–that I’m not the only one! Only I sat in a tree to read because usually no one would fine me there.
Er…FIND me there. Yes, I am a writer; it’s the typing that’s suspect.
Love the image of you hiding in a tree. (However, my mother probably would have FINED me.)
Thanks for stopping by!
I loved this, particularly the line about the PBS tote bag. : ) Count me as a sister in dorkdom!
Aren’t the best lines always someone else’s? I think we have many, many more “sisters” out there. . .
Chicks like us make an art of dorkness. And everyone knows how important it is to support the arts…
Btw, my last bought t-shirt reads ‘Shakesbeer…Taming of the Brew’ and I bought it because it reminded me of you. Fistbumps!
Oh my God, Ash–I need one of those shirts! Fistbump back, sister.
of the lisas, one is a dork and the other a nerd: the nerd would think it more than mildly dorky to be enthralled by Austin/Shakespeare, whereas the dork finds the nerd’s taste in more tasteless literature and cheap thrillers indisputably nerdy
hence, the subtle clarification in dork/nerd definition
got all that?
Hi Lisa Squared,
I had to laugh at “tasteless literature and cheap thrillers”! Thanks for stopping by.
Loved the post, Rosemary. It reminded me of my approach to dating (which probably explains why I never did much of it). If, by the third date, I still wished to be home reading my current book, I refused the fourth. Not that this caused many problems — usually the guys in question had given up long before then!
Kym,
If only I’d applied your dating principle! How smart that is, though–to weigh the call of the book against the call of the guy.
So nice to see you here, by the way.
Love it!
I forced my husband to tour the Jane Austen center at Bath during our honeymoon. I fell a little more in love with both my husband and Jane that day!
Wendy, on our way to Austen’s house we stopped in Portsmouth so I could see where Fanny Price grew up and go to the Mary Rose museum. (A Tudor ship that sank during the reign of Henry VIII.) I am dying to go to Bath, by the way!
I LOVE that t-shirt!!! I would wear it too.
S.
Rosemary,
The Austen shrine doesn’t count as creepy until there are candles. You’re still safe.
And, no, I don’t wanna make somethin’ of it. It is a truth universally acknowledged that one never tangles with an Austen fan.
)
Hmmm. . .candles, eh? Getting that votive ready as we speak. . .
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I have the same action figure!!!! My best friend gave him to me years ago. I won’t take him out of the box, though. I’m too afraid my children will put their grubby hands all over him. So, he is propped up in his packaging — wedged — on my bookshelf next to my Complete Works (that I kept from HS), my lexicon/quotation dictionaries, my “biographies,” my individual Ardens. I so totally embrace your dorkdom, Rosemary!!
Ooooh, Abi, I love the Arden Shakespeares! I have some tiny hard covers from the 30s with art deco wood cuts–they’re gorgeous.