Is it too much to ask?

Because stereotypes.

Is it too much to ask that you put down the new edition of vogue and pick up a real book (I know Hugo will be gibberish to you but I think we can start with Austen)

Maybe Marilyn is your hero, but is it too much to ask for you to give She Hulk a chance? (Green and smart what’s not to like?)

Yes we know she is wearing an ugly dress and slept with a dozen guys in a week. But is it too much to ask that you don’t judge and let her be? (Then again, gossip feeds your size 0 body. I wouldn’t want you to starve.)

I admire your confidence and your sense of style. But is it too much to ask for you to stop asking me if I want a makeover? (Bitch please. My sweater vest is vintage)

If your boyfriend physically abuses you is it too much to ask that you find your voice and make a stand? (Because if you can’t get a happy ending there sure is no hope for me)

When you are 40 and single is it too much to ask that you stop throwing yourself at every man you meet? (And in case you are in that place and wondering what to do with your life; I am always low on perpetually horny study subjects)

Is it too much to ask that you understand the real difference between a Ursula and Ariel is not in appearance but in spirit. (Although you have one on me. You figured out good girl gone bad makes the frat boys drool)

The brain is not an ornament on display. Is it too much to ask that you use it? (But then again, You would if you could)

There are so many questions unanswered. So many ideas. So many thoughts. Is it too much to ask that you find some answers? (No! How skinny you can get without dying is not what I meant!)

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The limbo called 23

Well obviously this my kind of 23.

Tea is what you love in the morning but that occasional coffee helps you get over nasty hangovers.

You are will-spill/drop-anything-you-are-holding-when-you-see-an-attractive-guy kind of awkward.

You guffaw or groan and roll eyes every time people talk of love. While secretly wishing you had a fairy godmother.

You have Beethoven on the gramophone and a glass of wine kind of evenings. But the ones you love most are when you dance in your pajamas, singing(in a voice that puts the coyotes to shame) into your hairbrush.

You binge watch tv series when you are depressed (that is most of the time) and knit cat clothes. But when you are happy they will find you at the local bar trying to drown yourself in alcohol.

People you grew up with have spouses-kids-RingsThatWillPutSauronToShame. You have scrabble with the computer and a basement bedroom.

Well sometimes you go and order that Long Island and do the walk of shame. But more often than not weekends are reading Shakespeare to your cat.

High school stereotypes don’t apply anymore. You were the geek-with-glasses-and-ugly-sweaters now you are called a sociopath (suck it miss-prom-queen-who-is-with-her-fifth-husband-at-tiffanys). Yeah….No, high school never ends soccer mom/ miss pretty in Prada will always be the Bellatrix Lestrange to your Hermione.

You know you will end up socialising with balding men in tweed suits and women who make you wish feminism never happened.

And the closest thing to sex is watching rat EEGs while they are at it. But there is that thesis on a gene in the drosophila fly that controls its desire to copulate (does that counts as foreplay?)

Twenty three is when you unravel the mysteries of life. It is that time when you finally accept that there are no mermaids or Loch Ness monsters or Yetis. You will never find Asgard and Thor will never find you. You know the mysteries are those of loneliness, love, companionship, loss and what helps you unravel all that. You gain true wisdom and enlightenment from those moments with your head in a toilet seat because you still can’t hold your drink. That is what 23 is all about.

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Nerd and proud

Dear world who claims nerdy is the new sexy. Let me tell you what that really means,

Though I am a nerd, I am no Hermione Granger(hit puberty, look nothing like Emma Watson!)

When you picture a nerd girl don’t think of Victoria’s Secret Angels with nerd glasses. (They might have perfected the art of cloning but still can’t seem to get the brain to work)

Make up is what I do on halloween (most of the people can’t guess who I am, I pick characters from books or sometimes take it too seriously and show up as me braces and all!)

I am a book nerd. I consume books like a whore on crack! I fall in love with fictional characters.(Those are the only relationships I need)

TV shows Dr Who & Sherlock.(David Tennant and Benedict Cumberbatch, If only!!)

Hollywood movies show me as a shy invisible girl who morphs into a fairy tale princess (please stop. Just stop.)

Only I get to say “I would rather give myself to Voldemort” to the perv at the bar.

Every girl cried while watching Titanic. I cried more while reading about Snape’s love for Lily.

Best memories growing up: school library(reading about stolen kisses) The thing I miss most about school: homework.

I am not what I wear or how I look. Yes I am sexy in my own way. And what makes me sexy is my brain.

I am a nerd because I was born this way. I will never change.

Nerd, and proud.