Wherein I display my true colors (with a timeline!)

I've been doing some soul-searching lately. Not the serious kind, mind you, just the kind that prompts one to take a step back from oneself and ask, "Is this who I truly am?"

You see, I don't often think about it, but I was raised by two people who dearly loved science fiction and fantasy, picking apart films, and not apologizing for it.

Oh yes, you see where this is going now. Be prepared.

And now that I've just said that I can see Scar looming over a canyon full of dancing hyenas. Awesome. I'm going to go listen to the Lion King soundtrack real fast. Hold on.

And I'm back. And I'm not kidding. I'm seriously listening to Jeremy Irons try to sing. And I'm helping him.

Anyway, the way I was raised naturally instilled a few natural tendencies in me. I remember spending the entire summer of my 10th year locked in my bedroom devouring my parents' novels about people who ride fantastical dragons on a planet named Pern. My parents had to throw my outside for an hour each day. I'd spend that hour poking around, dreaming about riding a gold dragon, and counting down the minutes until I could come back inside and dive back into that world.

Those of you who know me will not find that strange. I have obsessive tendencies. They come in handy when those obsessions line up with my current position in life. For example, my current obsession with being the best English teacher ever lines up perfectly with my current position as an English teacher. Lovely!

But one obsession I've always had has been my love of books, TV shows, and films that treat life in a fantastic way. The dragon books, Star Wars (both books and films), my love of Agatha Christie novels, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Harry Potter world, Pushing Daisies, Spaced, and my ongoing attraction/repulsion relationship with horror films (but excluding torture porn). This obsession has always been in an up and down cycle in my life, often dependent on the people around me.

Here's a rough timeline for you:

 Ages 3-9:
Family time on Sunday nights included watching an hour of Nature on PBS, and then an hour of Star Trek: The Next Generation with a few bowls of popcorn topped with Parmesan cheese.

Age 10: 

Discover the Dragonriders of Pern series. Life is perfect. I vividly remember listening to my very first cassette tape (Alanis Morrisette, Jagged Little Pill-- that's right, I'm not kidding) while reading the first chapter.

Age 10.5:

Discover my parents' stash of Star Wars novels. Devour them all. This marks the beginning of my Star Wars fixation and the decline of Star Trek, sorry Mom and Dad.

Age 12:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer airs for the first time. Instant love. Who knew that TV could ever be so good? My parents buy me a t-shirt. I wear it like it's the coolest thing on the planet. My parents buy Star Wars in the brand new VHS release. I immediately run them into the ground.

Age 14:
High school begins. I realize that no one else likes the things I do. Or, if they do, not to the same extent as myself. I stop wearing my Buffy t-shirt. Much to my shame, I'll admit I also stop watching Buffy on TV.

Ages 14-18:

I begin my quest to know everything about film, cut back a little on the fantasy book reading, and think way too highly of myself. Seminal films for me at this time include A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Moulin Rouge, Vanilla Sky, and The Matrix.

Age 18:

I go to college and vow to become a cool nerd. This is reinforced when I begin dating a boy who does not share my love for science fiction and fantasy (I should have known it would never work when he refused to watch The Lord of the Rings with me).

Ages 18-24:
Brief moments of shining nerdiness peek through: Attending two midnight releases of two Harry Potter books, debating the suckiness of the Star Wars prequels with friends, mainlining the extended editions of all three LOTR movies and all the commentary tracks (that's 60 hours of movie-watching, in case you weren't aware), and discovering Harlan Ellison. I discover Doctor Who.

Age 25:

The decline and subsequent end of my relationship with that boy prompts a resurgence of nerdom. My friends and I host Doctor Who watch parties for season 5, I attend a Star Wars watching party and debate various weaponry and technology with a friend, I begin my countdown to Inception in January. I discover Firefly.

Then I move to a small town and I live alone. I don't need to hide this nerdiness from anyone. I budget so I can go to ComicCon in the future. I finally see Spaced. My attention settles on successful and talented people in the entertainment business who embraced their inner nerd and it took them far (I'm talking about you, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Edgar Wright, and, of course, Bill Hader).

I realize that I can do this. Nerds truly do inherit the earth.

Or at least, they inherit the earth I care about.

And, on another note, I discovered this artist. His name is James Hance, and his artwork is exactly what I want. I'm going to buy some of his prints and hang them up in my home as my art.

And I don't care what anyone thinks of it!