Sunday, November 13, 2005


I've been given quite a few nicknames since starting my new job: Rookie, Medill, just plain Quinn (a nickname which got about twelve thousand percent cooler last Monday when the new character on Prison Break, Quinn, broke a dude's fingers within the first two minutes of his introduction.)

Most of my nicknames, though, have to do with what a huge dork I've already proven to be. And I'll be the first to admit it: the comment "anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of syntax could have written something better than this" probably wasn't the coolest utterance in the world. Hell, that wouldn't even have been the coolest utterance at a comic book convention. But come on! It was true!

My favorite nickname so far, though, is Goblet of Nerds. And OK, OK, maybe making such a big deal out of the trailer for the new Harry Potter movie wasn't the best way to establish myself as a suave young cosmopolitan. And maybe pre-ordering my opening-night, first-showing tickets a month in advance, and then going on and on about how excited I am (and, OK, downloading a Countdown to Harry widget) didn't earn me any urban hipster points. But we're talking about first showing at the IMAX here people!

And really? Did you watch the trailer? Let's talk about three times the (oops-still not legal!) hotness. And, of course, the kickass special effects, and the character developments we haven't gotten much of in the past three movies, and the Russian guy... aw shucks, I really am geeking out.

I have to say, though: I feel a little vindicated that my two most merciless coworkers watched the trailer with me, then asked to watch it again and admitted that it looked totally killer. And we've been watching the first three movies almost every day in preparation for the big day (Thursday at midnight, but don't think about getting tickets. They're sold out.)

And now that they're getting used to my geekiness, they don't seem to laugh at me too much when I say, "ooh, but in the book..." or when I find myself accidentally talking aloud in sync with the movies in a little British accent. And they do laugh—but not in a mean way—when I get flustered and absentmindedly fiddle with the twig they brought back from a lunch outing for me. So far "Deadlinicus Disappearacus" and "Wingardium Levioh-please-do-my-work-for-me" haven't had much effect, but I'm not giving up yet...