I’m on the desktop PC at home instead of my laptop because this has a bigger screen, better graphics for gaming and a keyboard with a frickin number pad, oh lordy, so much space for my giant hands. I never go online on this computer though because my history is not something you can just leave behind unattended. It’s not porn (only) but it’s the little things, like my Google searches for hyphens on words (on the go and up-to-date, these things are crazy).

This is my 15-year old brother’s computer. Is it important that he’s only 15? Yes. Did I poke around in his computer? No. Am I going to mention that he has embarrassing history on his computer? No, I am not that ruthless, but he does have embarrassing bookmarks. Ha!

Figure 1. My 15-year old socially awkward brother reads relationship advice on the internet.

I really need to take a lesson on comedy writing because my set-ups get too long and all I really want to say is that my 15-year old brother is reading “How to go from ‘just friends’ to something more” on Yahoo Frickin Match.

I felt like I should tell all of Tumblr (no one) before I bring this up to the authorities (mention the existence of this bookmark in passing to my brother over dinner with my parents in the same table, and watch as his face contorts in shock or fury or embarrassment, and then proceed to reading excerpts of the article in a light-hearted and playful intonation to lighten the mood to prevent exacting any real psychological damage to my brother in the form of trust issues and pathological secretiveness).

I got tomorrow’s dinner planned out.

What is up with my dreams lately? Last night I dreamt I took a really long exam. In my dream I finished 30 minutes before everyone else, although in real life I usually use up all the time I have to check and double-check answers. So I come out of the lecture room and walk straight into our living room, like all dream spaces are wormholes to random places. I find an old friend from high school still answering the exam and I see that there are 5 blank lists for an enumeration-type test on a page of the exam I didn’t have.

So I go back to the exam room and plead to the proctor to let me answer the questions I missed because it wasn’t my fault the printing was sloppy. But then I woke up. And would you have guessed, I wanted to go back to sleep to save my exam. WHAT THE STUFF. Until I realized it was all a dream and my grades weren’t really in danger. Phew! Non-problem solved.

On the surface, I’m just your average nerd but deep down, I’m a much bigger nerd. Two school dreams in one week! Are you kidding me, Subconscious? These dreams make me feel the same confused thing I feel about sex: I don’t know if it’s excitement or anxiety.