The nerd ethos.

Part of being a nerd is working bloody hard for what you achieve- with the exception of those infuriating people who have amazing memories or talents and don't have to devote their lives to studying.
To be a nerd is to have more books than can fit in your bag, to suffer spasms of back pain from carrying it, to have your eyes ache from speed-reading. It is to sacrifice any hope of a social life, to allow even your social skills to deplete, and to purge your life of the kind of fun that everyone else seems to incur. It is to stay up late studying, to go to bed so tired your head feels like it's going to explode, to be unable to sleep for being stressed, and then to get up the next morning and do it all again. It is to spend your weekends diligently writing summaries and limiting your telephone time.

The end goal of this torture is to attain damn good marks. It is what sets apart those who do well and those who just don't. It is then an injustice on the part of the education system that some people receive the same or similar results just by "winging it" and providing an intricate web of excuses.

I know that life isn't fair, but education should be. Every school endeavours to provide an equal and protected environment in which learning can thrive- clearly this does not correspond to the real world. However, if this is how the school system is supposed to work, then it should do what it's meant to. Someone who struggles to meet work requirements should not be rewarded more than someone who consistently fulfils expectations and tries impossibly hard to do it.

Furthermore, getting a good education is meant to be important in succeeding in life. To me, success means happiness. Why, then, am I so dissatisfied with my life when others, who aren't slaves to their desks, seem to be so much happier? Their lives look like so much fun, and admittedly I am extremely jealous.

Unfortunately, one lesson that I will never learn is that at some point, I should stop trying. As much as I know that studying is futile, and that I would be a lot happier shirking my responsibilities and going out and spending inordinate amounts of money, I won't do it. What's stopping me? The nerd ethos- to keep trying, to study harder to the detriment of my personal enjoyment, and to then complain about it incessantly.

Grammatical mistakes plague the English language- a language which makes little sense to start with, being based on perversions of other languages, so it could really do with not being made worse. If you have any regard for my sanity, please consider my list of the top five grammatical abuses:
1. Photo's
NO. NO NO NO NO NO. The word "photos" does not need an apostrophe, as it is not possessive! Unless your photos own something, they do not get an apostrophe. Plurals of words do not deserve apostrophes.

2. You're and your.
Much to the surprise of the grammatically uneducated, there are actually two very different words. "Your" means "belonging to you", and "you're" means "you are". This may seem strange as the possessive "your" is not endowed with an apostrophe, however this is just one of those peculiarities of the English language which one must be familiar with.

3. Babys
It pained me to write what should be "babies" as "babys", it really did. If there is a Y on the end of a word, in the vast majority of cases, it becomes -IES for plurals. If you have any questions regarding this, you may want to consider re-taking grade two English.

4. Capitalisation Of Prepositions And Conjunctions In Titles
I don't know exactly why, but you just don't do it. It's one of those things that you're just born knowing- well, some of us are, in any case.

5. And finally, accusing sentences starting with"and" or "but" of being grammatically flawed.
They're not. It's actually quite acceptable, in modern literature at least, to start sentence with "and" or "but". Yes, it is a grammatical mistake in, say, most conversations, especially according to old people. However, it is not erroneous to do this is literary works, such as to add emphasis- a writer's creative license overrides the normal rules of grammar!

I really hope there is no bad grammar in the blog post. On the other hand, hypocrisy is okay when I do it.

Maybe life was better before the advent of photography.

The only thing scarier than the future is the past. I deeply envy anyone fortunate enough to have been a cute child or have surpassed the awkward, pre-pubescent stage. When I look at old photos, they beg the question*; how could I honestly have allowed myself to look that disgusting? While I can admit to myself that I'll never be pretty, I do know that there are measures I can take to be less reminiscent of a baboon crossed with a vulture crossed with a hippopotamus. Sadly, in the photos that I seem to have of me up until like two years ago, I seem to have done nothing to quell my unfortunate appearance.

My life through photos tells a story of a child probably stolen from the monkey enclosure at the zoo, whose face has evidently been smacked with heavy objects one too many times. While I will spare you the torture of laying eyes on my ghastly countenance, I will briefly continue what will inevitably turn into an angry rant.

Babies all look the same, so there is nothing wrong my my baby photos per se. Unfortunately, all babies are ugly, so of course they are the standard, possessed looking photos with weird red eyes. Moving into childhood, it is evident that I lacked style even then. Plus I was hideous, which always helps. And just when I thought it couldn't get worse...BOOM, there's the awkward stage! You would think that there would be ten or so years in between early childhood photos and awkward stage, but fortunately I did not own a camera in this time, so have no record of it.

I can't believe I ever went out in public looking like how I did. Why did I not make the discoveries of hair dye and make-up a bit earlier on? Given, I discovered cosmetics at like eight years old, but disgusting auburn hair dye and Target eyeshadow did not help- in fact, I am inclined to believe that they worsened the problem. The only thing worse than a chubby, ugly ten year old, is a chubby, ugly ten year old ranga. Not only was I cosmetically deficient, I also inherently lacked style- although perhaps "lacked" should not be in the past tense, given that I generally adorn my stocky frame with Adidas trackies and boring tops, which I hate but seem to have nothing better to wear.

Yes, the past was a scary time for me, particularly whenever I encountered a mirror. However, this is not a good sign for the future. I probably thought I looked good back then! Well, maybe until I got glasses to compensate for my severe myopia, in any case. The point is, I didn't know any better. The problem I have now is, what if in the future I look back and reel in disgust? While I don't delude myself with notions of looking good, and know that I still look like a baboon-vulture-hippopotamus, I have done everything within my power (short of cosmetic surgery) to rectify the situation. But what if there is something so glaringly obviously deficient about my appearance, that is easily fixable, that I will be horrified about in the future? What if I need a better hair cut or colour, or new wardrobe, and just haven't discovered it yet?

Oh, the moral dilemmas I face**. It's treacherous.

* This is improper usage of the expression "begs the question". However I can't think of the right phrase to use, and this one fits if only for what is is commonly believed to mean, not for it's actually reading. If this issue is troubling you as it troubles me, visit http://begthequestion.info/

** Get it? It's a pun. You know... face. Since I have been discussing faces.

The best thing about the Internet is that you can present yourself how you want to be perceived, especially in the context of social networking sites. While this is good when I do it, because I am able to take a million fantastic photoshopped mirror shots and post them on Facebook, it annoys me to no end when other people try to change their image online! Hypocritical? I suppose. I hate hypocrites... it's only okay when I do it!

I absolutely can't stand it when people deliberately type so that they seem "hardcore". Are you a culprit of this heinous crime? Time for a checklist. Do you...
1. WRITE IN ALL CAPS?
2. Repeat letteerrrrsss, usuallyy at the endd of worrrdsss?
3. Complain about stupid problems that you don't even have?
4. Describe exactly how drunk/high you are in your detailed status updates?
5. Discuss your body parts, with sexual connotations?

If you have answered yes to at least one of the above symptoms, you are annoying. However, do not worry: TREATMENT IS AVAILABLE! Here are some miracle cures offered by your friendly Dr. Natasha:
- Tape your fingers together so that you can't type
- Donate your computer to someone more deserving
- Run across a busy road in peak hour
- Sterilise yourself so that you cannot populate the world with your annoying offspring

Or, you could keep posting annoying status updates so that I have something to blog about. Either way is fine.

As of late, my blog seems to have morphed from a nerd blog into a Facebook blog. Why a website as peripheral as Facebook need a blog dedicated to it, I don't know. But, that really does not seem to have stopped me from launching into another Facebook inspired tirade.

Not getting the message: A step-by-step guide.

The person who this post is directed to will probably never read this. This is because the only people who read my egocentric thoughts are friends who are obliged to, and the person who this post targets is certainly not a friend- especially not on Facebook.

An individual who I believe I have never met, presumably a Pervy Old Guy, consistently sends me Facebook friend requests despite my constant rejection of such requests on the premise that I have no idea who he is. For anyone wishing to replicate his methods of annoying me, here is a step-by-step breakdown of what he does every few days.

1. Send me a friend request from his shack in the Philippines*. Presumably it is a shack, perhaps it is a tent or caravan, I don't know nor care.
2. Ignore my message asking if I know him.
3. One week later, visit my profile again and discover that the "Add as Friend" button has miraculously appeared again. Click it.
4. Ignore a second message asking if I know him.
5. The very next day, attempt to friend request me again.
6. Discover that your friend request has been accepted. Also discover a wall post from me, asking if I know him. Do not reply to the wall post.
7. Update your status in some foreign language a few thousand times a day (slight exaggeration but that is irrelevant).
8. Do not reply to my comment asking who you are, on several of your statuses.
9. Upon discovering that I have deleted you as a friend a few days later, send me another friend request.
10. Upon discovering that request has been denied, you will probably send another one. I am not sure yet as I have just denied your last one.

The most annoying thing about it is, I get really excited when I see that I have new friend requests. It is most upsetting that nobody other than Pabayulanrizalbaddas Tnanagcovinoraydso[jfddnmdljfoppap[eopt-59035230=6ipgk;ldflk** wants to befriend me.

* It would be much appreciated if Filipino people do not take offence to this. It is simply a fact of the story.
** "Pabayulanrizalbaddas Tnanagcovinoraydso[jfddnmdljfoppap[eopt-59035230=6ipgk;ldflk" might not be the real name of the serial friend requester in question.

You know that you're nerdy when you stumble on Euler's identity on Wikipedia and start jizzing in your pants. Seriously, that is pure mathematical, beautiful awesomeness. I cannot put into words how epic it is, so you'll have to read about it for yourself.