Getting excited about the saddest things

Today, the thing which really made my day was realising that I could add my Twitter feed directly onto the main page of this blog (see, there it is, on the right hand side!). And even as I was getting excited, and patting myself on the back for being such a technical genius, I realised that I was at the same time being immensely sad. After all, it was not really a work of technical genius - all I did was to spot a button on Twitter saying "add to blog" and I clicked it, followed some simple instructions, and hey presto, Bob's your uncle. Or grandfather in my case, but let's not split hairs.

My reaction did reveal a lot about my hidden geek. But it was my reaction to the hidden geek that made me chuckle - I embraced her, and have, with this post, effectively outed her. That doesn't make her a lesbian hidden geek by the way. As I get older I've realised that I am sad about a lot of things - I'm a (now outed) geek, I tend to cry when sporting trophies or medals are awarded (the 2004 Olympics just after Isabel was born was a mass of hormones and tears in our house!), I almost always fall asleep in movies, and I have terrible taste in music. Or so Husbandio claims. And he'd know - he's a music snob, and doubtless has great taste, but we don't always coincide musically, to say the least.

However (and this deserves capital letters) I DON'T CARE. I don't care if people see me sniffling over Venus Williams winning Wimbledon. I don't care if guests see me snoring away in front of the telly. I don't care if people know that I sing along loudly to songs by REO Speedwagon, Mister Mister and Cutting Crew. I've never been trendy, I'll never be trendy, and I DON'T CARE. In fact, I like it. I'm now preparing to be one of those parents who dances wildly at school disco causing maximum embarrassment to her children. I may even be ready for old age - not caring what people think is definitely a requirement in order to draw a pension. Bring it on!