Last night, Neil and I watched a movie called "Evolution."

Most times, I'm not so fond of watching movies. I'm very picky. I like two kinds of movies, most times: really ultra-predictable dramas with bad acting, so that I can sit around thinking disparaging thoughts about them; and so-called "French art films." French art films, which rarely have anything to do with French, are the sort of movies that it takes brains to understand. French art films have symbolism in them lots of times, and take a lot of care to make sure that every shot is pretty enough to be hung on a wall. As opposed to, say, your average, Walmartish, Hollywood movie.

But I was in a mood to watch a movie last night. And "Evolution" has David Duchovny in it. And I think he's kinda cute. So Neil and I watched the movie on Neil's computer.

It's not a bad movie, really. It's nowhere near the greatest thing I've ever seen, and the ending was fucking GROSS, but it wasn't bad. It's kind of a typical alien movie. Except it's got David Duchovny in it. And there's slightly fewer-than-average lines of the "come on, let's get 'em," variety.

Anyway...

So, Neil and I are watching the movie, and the good guys (humans) decide, through some baffling scientific logic that basically made no sense, that the way to kill the bad guys (aliens), was to poison them with an element known as selenium.

"Selenium," I repeated, mostly to myself, partly to Neil. "Like in dandruff shampoo. They make dandruff shampoo with selenium sulfide. I like that word: selenium."

Before Neil had time to respond, one of the characters in the movie started yelping about Head and Shoulders.

...And it occurred to me that I'd just made myself sound like a HUGE dork.

I hesitated, then sort of tried defending myself. "Well... yeah, I mean... I like to read in the bathroom sometimes, you know? And sometimes I forget to bring a book in with me...."

Neil gave me a huge smile. "So... you read labels in the bathroom?"

"Well," I admitted, "yeah."

Neil laughed so hard I thought he'd burst a capillary or two. And I spontaneously realized that, despite Neil's amazing abilities to appear very charming and very badass when he wishes to, he has the heart of a geek.

"You read labels in the bathroom, too, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes!"

"Does everybody?"

"I don't know."

Well, of the four people in the apartment at the time, at least three of us read labels. The other one was sleeping or something, so we didn't get to ask. That was comforting. I guess I kind of thought I was the only one.

I thought for a minute.

"You make me glad I'm a dork," I confided to Neil.

"I'm glad," he smiled.

"I mean... Most people, I think, would think I'm a loser, or mock me or some shit, for knowing the active ingredient of dandruff shampoo. Lots of people have made fun of me for that kind of thing..."

Neil didn't say anything. Just smiled.

"I'm glad you understand."

Neil said he wouldn't have me any other way. Or something to that effect. Something borderline mushy.

But it's true. I AM happy to be a dork. I'm happy to be able to pull useless bits of trivia out of my ass. I'm happy to unconsciously memorize facts and then toss them out at random moments. I'm happy that I play a game called "Medical Dictionary" sometimes. I'm happy that I know a little bit about things like gravity, and density, and that once when I was sick, I laid in my bed for two days memorizing Newton's Laws of physics. I'm happy that I remember dates and times and phone numbers and prices. I'm happy to be able to spit out the name of some weird experimental 'seventies rock band without hesitation. I'm happy to have a decent vocabulary, and to have an anecdote for nearly every situation. I like having a "Twin Peaks" quote for everything, too. I'm happy that I can recognize passive voice and dangling modifiers without blinking an eye. I like... being me. Geeky, dorky me.

I like being a geek. I think it's great. I LIKE geeks. I'm not the smartest person I know, not by far. And I have some serious shortcomings in certain areas of my intellect. But I'm smart enough to be a dork. And it greatly pleases me.

It pleases me even more that I've finally found a small group of people that doesn't disapprove. They know I'm not showing off. And they're actually interested in my weird bits of knowledge most times. It's freaking great.