Well, it is. I hate nasty cold rain, but I love the fact that I am hibernating today with my writing, coffee, and food that can be delivered to me. Life is good. It could be that I gave up and slept my preferred hours last night. I am always happier when I don’t force myself to be awake when normal people are.
So, I have no deep awesome thoughts today. I am just happy. I love my happy, grateful days.
Cynthia came up with a brilliant idea for a log for my site. We need to huddle with the Tina and make it happen. It is very exciting.
Also extremely exciting is that my friend Kathleen is brilliant and did some research and found a way something brilliant AND she shared. I knew that you could sell shorter works on Amazon. I didn’t realize how short stuff is that sells or how much money you could make if you have enough of it. She found for a library of pretty short work (5k to 15k words), a writer can make pretty decent money. You have to be willing to sell it cheap, but for a short piece, I can handle selling it cheap, and money doesn’t start to really happen unless you have a decent library.
The great thing about short shorts is that they write quicker than books. I have this fantastic character and story concept laying about that will translate well into a series of short shorts. I am 2k words into the first story. I am having a blast, and the idea of having something done in days instead of weeks is great. I will still work on my books, of course, but this will allow me to build confidence, complete works, and make some money and contribute to my family (it is a self-worth thing) while writing my books.
The more work you complete as a writer, the better you get. It is a truth. I learned a lot from writing my first book, and I will learn from writing these. After I write about five of them, I am going to sell them on Amazon.com. I will put the first one up for free for a certain amount of days and nag at you guys to download it so I can get numbers, then after a week or so I will put them up for sell for 99 cents.
I’m stoked, if you can’t tell.
I just got distracted by magnets. Imagine what I could accomplish if I didn’t have the attention span of a gnat.
I decided I had stuff I needed to get done today, so I set my alarm clock for 11am, and then laid awake until 9am. I bumped around my house like a slobbering ghoul until 3pm when I took a two hour nap. I slept and dreamed sweet dreams of ever marriage that I care about around me falling apart and going back to grad school but forgetting that I enrolled until the final day of the semester and having to take the finals anyway. I was so pissed when my alarm went off.
I have gotten so unaccustomed to my alarm now that it pisses me off even more. Having to wake up to it twice made me cranky.
I am going to tell myself that when I am able to sleep that I will sleep the sleep of angels.
On a happy note, Saturday I am going to help make curtain’s for the niece-on-the-way’s room. It is a sweet happy deal.
Okay, let me give you some background, so you cats can understand were this is all spinning from. Kathleen turned me on to two things: the documentary I Am and the book Women Food and God by Geneen Roth. These two things kind of help solidify somethings that have been, and continue to, bounce around in my head.
I don’t really know where to begin.
Well, I guess I kind of do.
I hate myself. Not all of myself, but I do hate parts of myself. I think everyone does. I don’t know a single woman who doesn’t grit their teeth and break into a sweat when they think of something they have done/thought/wished. I don’t know a single woman who isn’t terrified that someone will find out something about them and hate them or fears that if they don’t do something right then everything around them will crumble.
I try to fix me. I have been constantly trying to fix me since as far as I can remember.
I look at me from the outside and I realize me is pretty damn outstanding, but when I look at the me from the inside I see the bits that I hate myself for.
First order of business; no more feeling guilty and cringing when I say something like “I look at me from the outside and I realize me is pretty damn outstanding.” I have spent my life humbling myself to the point I have no idea who I am or what I am worth. I cringe at the idea of accepting that I might be amazing or even just good because it feels arrogant and arrogant is not okay, or I fear that someone will come along and point out how unamazing I am, and I will be crushed. So, I deal with it by not believing it and not even opening myself up to that chance. If someone feels the need to point out my flaws in an unkind way, and many people have, it is their shit not my shit.
Second order of business: Learning to look at people and saying, “that is your shit, not my shit, I have enough shit of my own, so please keep your shit to yourself thankyouverymuch.”
The 13 year-old me who was told, “Selina, we aren’t the type of people that people want to have sex with just because of the way we look” would have greatly benefited from “your shit, not my shit.”
Third order of business: Stop trying to fix myself until I give myself enough room to learn what is really wrong. I live in this constant fear that if I am not constantly working for some goal or trying to achieve something then I am a waste.
In my head, there are two huge sins: being unkind and being a waste.
I commit unkindness every day, but mostly to myself. I never feel like I am enough. That is some stupid bullshit. I will never be kind to myself until I get over this idea that I will finally be enough when I have done more things.
I need to be able to look at those things that hurt. I need to poke them until I feel them and deal with them and then be okay with them.
I get so annoyed with myself because I feel like I am so flawed that I am unlovable. It drives me batshit that bits of me still cling to the fear that if I let people see everything in my soul that they will run away screaming.
This idea hurts so bad that when I look at in the face I almost can’t breath.
I think if I magically fix myself then I will find the love of my life and if I only show them the good bits then they will love me forever.
Saying it out loud makes me see how silly it is. Maybe instead of trying to fix it, I should just see it, poke it, and accept it. Maybe if I accept that I feel this way, I can start to believe that nothing I do will make someone love me more. They either love me or they don’t, I can’t control it.
I feel guilty that I get to do this thing in my life right now. I feel like good people who do things well and right don’t stop worrying about money and trying to survive to do something that might never turn into something. I feel guilty that I have stepped away from responsibility and decided to do what I want. I feel guilty that my dad shoulders that responsibility for me. If I fail, I effect no one. If I don’t write or publish, I am the only one effected. I feel guilty about that. I don’t know what to make of that yet.
The only moments of my life when I feel like I am enough is sometimes when I write. Right now, I feel enough. Right now, I feel like sitting here pushing and poking the things that hurt trying to understand them is good enough. I feel like I mean something right now.
I don’t understand. I don’t really know what any of this means, or if it means anything at all. I do think I need to stop putting value judgements on everything I do. I need to start treating myself like I treat the people I love.
Maybe I should learn to be okay with just being. That just doesn’t sound right.
Okay, I’m going to bed now. At 6:11 am. I am going to attempt to not pout a value judgement on it.
It is Saturday. I woke up with a cold and on my first day of my period.
-.-
I have spent the day reading Twilight 4. 2 and in two and a half hours I have read 14%. I do this for two reasons: some of you have expressed interest in my opinions of the books, and sick morbid curiosity.
I have to say something, though, as much as I do not like Bella or Edward, or Eddie and the dumb bitch as I refer to them, Stephenie Meyer came up with some pretty cool ideas and she she wrote four books, edited them, and got them published them. I don’t actually know anyone who can say that. I have written one, got half way through editing it, and started a second. One has likeable characters that I love, and the other has good ideas and potential for likeable characters.
I also think it is funny that Eddie is SUCH a sub. (Submissive, sexually. I think Stephenie Meyer missed her calling as a fem-dom erotica writer.)
Maybe I should stop talking now.
(I keep getting these really twisted yet funny images in my head of Kristen Stewert with that one look that she has and a whip. I REALLY should stop talking now.)
(NOOOOO, Krissy, not my beautiful faaaace! Robert you have misbehaved, and you know what happens when you misbehave.)
I think after my last post, it should be no surprised to you guys that I have strange things clunking around up in my head. Thank you for still being my friends. I am going back to the romantic tale of Eddie and the DB. I might sleep too. I really should stay away from human contact though.
I was raised by two women in my life; my mother and Tina.
My mother taught me to be a good person and to value you my heart over my brain. I am realizing more and more my brain might be special, but I have always known it is my heart that will make me happy. My mom taught me to care and to love. She also taught me that we are all flawed and we all mess up, but we are all wonderful in other ways.
When I met Tina, I was a terrified eighteen year-old. I was screwed up beyond belief and I was paddling as hard as I could to survive. My first semester of college I had fought depression hard. I ended up spending the night in a crisis center because things were that bleak. It scared the living shit out of me.
After I got out, I stopped self-harming, took my Prozac, and attempted to go to the university’s school counselor. After a few sessions, I realized the woman meant well but wasn’t meant for me. During those days, I handled my fear and pain by pretending to be tough, and I sensed that I could intimidate the woman, and I did. You can’t get help from someone who won’t push you back.
This isn’t what I meant to write about but sometimes these things happen. (I can picture my well-meaning mother and sister covering their faces with their palms and wondering why I would ever share something this personal with the internet and potentially let it haunt me for the rest of my life. You would be surprised at how many people have went through the exact same things, but are too ashamed and too afraid to talk about it. I am done being ashamed and afraid.)
Anyway, I was this red hot mess when I found the deck. The deck is more of force than a place. Our college had a deck outside of the student union and there were a group of us that would come and go through out the day. We would smoke cigarettes and talk and sometimes play cards. Some when to classes more than others and did better in school than others. We were all different from each other but we still all sat and circled through each other’s lives.
I learned more about life sitting there listening to those people than any class I went. I learned a lot more about myself. I also learned that it was okay not to be perfect and that everyone else was fucked up too. Tina introduced me to Ani and Tori and to the fact that the world won’t crumble if I don’t do things the way I should. She also taught me that I look good in “crack whore” eye make-up. I still didn’t know who I wanted to be, but that was okay.
There is something very freeing about knowing everyone else is fucked up too. Some days I need that on my post-it note.
We lived in this glorious feeling that anything could happen and we could be or do anything.
The deck changed, like things do, and I moved on. Later, Tina circled back into my life, and I think she is still raising me in ways. I think she will always be raising me.
Anyway, this video
I listened to it I wrote that massive rant.
I want to be this. I think I am this.
If you listen, she sings that her chances are one in a million, but she only needs that one. She also sings that people can call her crazy if she fails, or they can call her brilliant if she succeeds.
I have spent so much time in my life being tied up in knots being afraid of what would happen if I failed. I have worried so much about being wrong or looking foolish for believing or going for something.
That fear has been slowly wearing down. I remember after I booked my trip to Florida, I was talking to my friend Sara about the decision. I booked the trip knowing full well it could turn out very badly. I knew that I could end up coming home rejected and with a broken-heart. I was sick of clinging on to that fear and waiting for him to make the move to make me happy. She told me I was brave.
I didn’t feel brave, it just felt like the only thing I could do.
Turns out the worst did happen and I did get my heart broken. I looked like a fool for not seeing every sign that everyone else saw. You know what, it didn’t kill me, and the world didn’t crumble.
I love this song because I know the feeling of just wanting to get my feet wet until I drown. I have spent so much of my life trying to do what was smart and what was expected of me. It never worked. I know I write about this over and over and over. I am running an experiment with myself. I am writing me even if I don’t feel it will be interesting and even if I have written it before. I am writing me even if it might offend someone.
Tina told me one time to pour all of my creativity into my books, she told me to pour all of my energy into getting healthier, and she told me to pour all of my soul into this blog. She told me I would be exhausted, but I would also be happy.
I keep trying to be brave. It takes so much bravery to rush forward without a plan. My first semester of college I was in a psychology course (ironic, right? And yes, I know that isn’t strictly the proper use of the word ironic. Back off.) and I researched cutting and shoved as much information about what I was doing to myself into my brain. I made a plan about stopping. It was all very controlled and civilized.
It worked, and I can’t be anything but thankful. I handled everything like that though. Sitting and planning and hording information like a dragon with gold. I had always been so afraid of taking a misstep that I almost never moved.
Ani knows something that I needed to learn; failing miserably can be fantastic.
I know that the chances are that I will never sell a book. I know that it is far more likely that I will get hit by a bus than making anything special of this blog. I understand that the chances are good that in a few years, I will pull my head out of the clouds, and have to face facts. I might be wasting my time and hurting my chances of later success.
I just need that one chance.
So, I am going to pour everything I am into everything I am doing. I might end up failing miserably again, but so far it has been a hell of a ride.
At least I will be able to shake my fist and say, “At least I tried!”
This is also by Ani and it is my favorite love song ever:
So, here is the deal, Cats and Kittens, I am flipping exhausted. Last night I started writing the first draft of my next book (even though I haven’t finished the second draft of the first one), and I have upped my exercise. I have been pouring myself into everything I do, well, not housework. Tonight, I am tired.
I am also exhausted because of so many things I see going on right now. I see so much going on that I wish we would change.
We have developed this sneering attitude towards idealism. We cling to our pragmatic natures because it is so much easier to do things the way they have always been done than to do them right. Any time anyone points to something that isn’t right and tries to fix it, we scoff at them because only a fool believes they can fix thing.
Here is a simple truth: We are broken.
Our values are broken, our faith is broken, our politics are broken, our medical system is broken, and we are too afraid of what it would mean to admit our brokenness and actually to try to fix it.
Our young women are getting dumber and less ambitious than previous generations. It is our fault. We have thrown our hands up and let them believe it is more important to be pleasing to men than to be full people. We are breaking our girls. We need to fix it. Teach them that it is more important to be smart, funny, respected than to be pretty, men pleasing girls. We also need to teach them that their values extend beyond their reproductive organs and their surgically enhanced breasts.
We are breaking our men. We teach them that Don Draper is the ultimate man. That it is more important to screw lots of women and bully others to get a head in the world, than to be a good person. We need to start holding up men who fight hard for their families and what is right, instead of this bullshit ideal that few men can reach, and, quite frankly, I don’t think we should want them to achieve. This is OUR FAULT.
We made a society were it is more important to have than to be. Some how we now believe that it is more important to look a certain way and own the right things than to be a good person or try to make things better. We are so trained to buy and spend that we don’t know value anymore. I love technology as much as the next person, and if I could afford a smartphone I would have one, but buying a new smartphone does not somehow make you a better person than you were before.
We have accepted that if someone is ruthless enough to screw over, hurt, or steal to get something it is okay. If we see someone take a television, we consider the action theft and, therefore, wrong. If a powerful business man finds away to exploit unethically the system for money, no matter who it hurts, we believe that they are just savvy business men and envy their suits.
Am I the only one who feels it is wrong to value ruthlessness in a person over the desire to make people’s lives better? Am I just that crazy? Why don’t we value being a good person anymore?
Okay, our political system is just a big bag of screwed the fuck up. What is wrong with us when we consider a politician who is openly bought is the lesser of two evils? What happened to trying to fight greed and corruption? Why have we just rolled over and accepted that this is the way the world is, and we best make due?
Our faith. Oh, lord, our faith is hurting so bad right now. Even our religious culture is eaten through with our maligned values. We are so afraid,alienated from the world, and desperate to be right that we allow our beliefs to be destroyed by corruption and used like a dirty needle in politics. Stop letting people use your faith to lead you around. We should be stronger in our faith than to let it be used to lead us.
I know all of this seems so insurmountable, but it really isn’t. All we need to do is stop. It is simple as that. We need to stop pushing so hard for this image we are told to strive for. We are told if we are all of these things we will be happy, but we won’t. We believe that what we are is so singularly wrong that we have to push to be something else, and in the end, we are unhappy, stressed, fake shadows of ourselves.
Stop it. Just stop. Step away from all of the fake values and images we have forced upon ourselves and strive to be happy. Stop striving to fit in and strive to be kind. Instead of clawing your way towards a better car, more money, bigger tits, a better suit, try to make things better. Smile at strangers and compliment them. Let someone in front of you in traffic.
If we accepted ourselves and stopped pushing ourselves to fit some fucked up ideal, our world would be better. We would be less insecure and less angry. If we accepted that we are only so much and that we can only do our best, we would feel more compassion towards others and be more willing to accept others faults.
If we found ourselves and righted our values, we would stop letting jack asses in government lie, cheat and steal, while we blindly accept it as business as usual. If we told our politicians that we value honesty and hard work over image and greed, and voted out any politician that didn’t meet our values, our country would be in a much better place. If we looked at our government honestly and realized that the government is here to work for us, not the other way around, then we would have a much healthier country.
We can fix this. I believe we want to fix this. We just need to stop accepting it, and start fixing it.
Last night, I started a massive rant than my computer freaked out and I gave it up. I think it was for the best because it is a rant I need to put a bit more thought into. Today, I am in far too good of a mood to rant. It might be the post work out happy chemicals, but whatever.
So, we have a couple of orders of business to get through.
First, next we are having an Oklahoma White Trash Mardi Gras Parade. One car with a trailer hitch has been offered for use. We now need cheap party beads, lots of booze, trash cans to put the booze in, a flat bed trailer, and lawn chairs to put on the flat bed trailer so people can ride in to fling the beads angrily. I have none of this, and I am broke, so I have appointed myself the official OWTMGP organizer. If you would like to donate any supplies please contact me at selina@templeofthegeekgoddess.com.
(Really, though, if you are in a place that you can donate, donate to these people. My sister is friends with a little girl who would benefit. Here is the news story. Okay, done preaching/begging. Oh, but I don’t suggest donating booze.)
Second order of business: Next week I am going to register for the Redbud Classic 5k. Lynsie has said she would do it with me, so if there any of my Oklahoma people who want to do it with me, I think we should make t-shirts. Just saying, it would be awesome. It is 25 dollars to register but it is FOR THE CHILDREN. If it is just me, I am making a shirt with big bold letters that say “Fat Girl Jogging.”
Third and final order of business: I have decided that I am going to create The Bloggess’s Shiv Wielding Dark Army: Oklahoma Division. Our first order of business will be to get an Oklahoma City stop on The Blogess’s book tour. If we manage that, the second order of business will be to get Lynsie to taxidermy a mouse in a standing position so we can put little curlers in her hair and make a tiny blow dryer and red dress for her. It will be our offering to The Bloggess. I have appointed myself the leader for one term. If you guys are displeased with my leadership you can elect a new leader in six months time but no sooner. Anyone interested in joining should e-mail me at selina@templeofthegeekgoddess.com. If I get any interest I will be making a Facebook page to coordinate our efforts.
Okay, I am off to eat some pineapple and plot some more.
So over a month ago I decided to get healthier. I signed up for a website called sparkpeople.com and I started exercising. I alternate between taking my dog for a walk at the park and doing Pilates when the weather is good and doing Leslie Sansome’s Walk Away the Pounds “5 Really Big Miles” (of which I do two) when the weather is bad. Last Wednesday (Wednesday is weigh day) I was down 10 pounds.
Last week I got the idea in my head to do the Red Bud Classic 5k in April. I know I won’t run it and I would probably be the last one across the finish line, but I can’t imagine how cool it would be for me to get across the finish line. I have been having dreams of running lately, not the “AAAHHH machete murder is chasing me” running dream but dreams where I go for runs.
It is glorious outside today, so I clipped the leash on my dog and we went to the part. We walked a half a mile and then we jogged. We didn’t jog far, but we jogged. We walked some more, and then we jogged some more. We alternated walking and jogging for another mile. I walked far more than I jogged, but I fucking jogged.
I can’t remember ever jogging as an adult. I know I looked seriously goofy. I am a big, big girl with a fuzzy wienie dog jogging in these tiny little 1/8th mile bursts. My form sucks, I am awkward with the leash, and my hair was sticking straight up in places, but I jogged, and it was glorious.
Endurance and form will come with time. I will look less goofy. And, I will get less big, I hope.
Part of me feels really silly for being so happy right now, and I know logically part of my happiness is the happy chemicals exercise releases into the brain, but I don’t care, just like I don’t care about how ridiculous I must have looked. One day soon I will run.
I am going to go print off the registration forms for the Redbud Classic 5k.
Good afternoon, morning, night, whatever. I have entered another strange period in my life where time has no meaning, and if it weren’t for blog days and sparkpeople.com telling me what day it was, I would have no clue what day of the week, much less what date. I am pretty sure I have lost track of what month I was in before. It happens when you are me.
Thursday, after I finished that blog I decided to shelve my romance novel for a little while to work on a fantasy novel that I have been kicking around for awhile. The past several days have been a blur of me wandering around thinking about my new book. It is a fantastic feeling, if a bit disconcerting.
I will finish the first one. I have to keep telling myself that so I don’t feel like a failure, but that book and I were torturing each other.
My writing loves are blogging and fantasy. My blog is, and will always be, my first love. I believe in what I do here. I believe in fighting to bridge this strange disconnect that our society has built between our true selves and the image we are supposed to portray. I think we have lost so much beauty and joy because we are so focused on image and what others think of us. There are much worse things in life than being viewed as uncool, weird, or different, and we have forgotten that as a people. We have trapped ourselves with these ridiculous ideals of what we should be. We have also tried so hard to insulate ourselves from vulnerability that we have completely lost our ability to put ourselves out there and isolated ourselves from people. Being rejected sucks, being ridiculed hurts, but it won’t kill you, and the joys of loving yourself for who you are and being loved for your being your flawed self far out weigh any of that pain.
My other love is fantasy. Almost every story I have ever kicked around in my head has been a fantasy novel. I just love the genre so much for so many reasons. I have started so many fantasy stories but I always stop because I always felt intimidated by the magnitude of writing one. I decided to write a romance novel because I could write a crappy book and it be okay. I was aiming for cheesy crap. I think what I have is better than that and I still love many elements of the story, but I need to spend sometime on this project for a bit. I can only do things because I am supposed to do for awhile until I do what I am.
I will finish the first book. (I keep assuring myself of this.) I am not giving up because it is hard. (Another self assurance) This project switch is not a sign of failure; I did not fail. I am just diverting for a bit. (This is the shit I have to tell myself to not feel guilty. Don’t you love how neurotic I am?)
Also, switching projects means I get to buy another accordion file and I might use it to buy binder clips. I fucking LOVE office supplies. I will take any excuse I can find to buy them. I am so strange.
Oh, my Oklahoma friends, you can sign a petition here to tell the state government we are against the personhood bill. I am not going to preach any more about it, but I do think it is important that we know it is happening. If you know other people in the state who would be against it, pass it on. Social media works and can change the world.
I now run my glorious writer’s hours. I wake at 1:30pm and go to sleep at 5:30am, ish. It is great for me, because I am more awake with more energy and a better mood. I am more productive and happier. It blows because so few of my hours intersect with normal people hours. I try to crunch more stuff in the few normal people hours I have. Most days it works out. Today, on the other hand, I am rushing to get a blog in before midnight. OH FRACK 45 MINUTES. I know it doesn’t actually matter, but it matters to me. It is the principle of the thing.
So, I have a slight issue. The idea I wrote about in my last blog still hasn’t formed yet. I still have the thought bits bouncing around but I can’t quite get them stuck together in an effective way. It is like having a box of puzzles pieces, and every time you pick one piece up the connector shapes all change. I know these pieces go together, but every time I think about one aspect the path to connecting it to the other pieces blur. To make things worse, I am pretty sure I shake the damn box every time I pick it up. I am going to be super pissed if when everything clicks, it is something dumb.
The point is I have things whirling. I always have things whirling in my head, but generally I only have one thing eating up most of my brain RAM so the rest of my brain can spin on other things. Right now, I have my book I am writing, the book I want to write next, this blasted puzzle, and my lifestyle food exercise crap all spinning around using up my RAM. My focus is worse than normal. When it comes to blogging all I can think of is the things the free part of my brain rants about.
Normally I would fight it, but not tonight. I have 30 minutes to get this bitch posted so you cats are taking what you can get.
A cute picture
OMG WOMEN THE STATE GOVERNMENTS WANT TO RULE YOUR REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS. My tootie is none of the state of Oklahoma’s gawddamn business. There is a personhood bill trying to go through our state congress. This would give the State of Oklahoma unprecedented rights to control what you do with your reproductive organs. I respect being pro-life (unless you are pro-death penalty then you are not really pro-life, you are anti-choice and believe that after a baby is born it is on its own, fuckers.) This isn’t an issue of pro-life/pro-choice. This willfully giving the government the right to regulate your body parts. Things like birth control can become illegal. Some states have went as far as to introduce bills that criminalize miscarriages. We are staring down the face of allowing ourselves to be oppressed again. I am not down with my only value being my reproductive organs and turning over legal rights if I decide to use them. It is all feeling far too close to TheHandmaid’sTale by Margaret Atwood. Educate yourself.
Okay odd clarification. People are getting their panties in a wad because of Obama’s birth control stuff. The way things were originally written every employer would be required to provide birth control to their employees, even if employer is a church that is against birth control. This upset religious groups, so they are trying to fix it where the religious groups don’t have to provide the birth control but the employees can get it from the government.
I am all about birth control and women’s freedom to chose what happens with her body. I think the easier and more abundant birth control is, the better, but I am a staunch defender of separation of church and state. I have a hard time with the government asking a church to go against a basic tenement on something like this. The women will have access to birth control still, but the lines of separation of church and state still stays clear. (I wish someone explain to some of these more rabid fundies that the separation protects religion as much as it protects the state.)
In that same vein, when gay marriage becomes universal in our country (except probably backward ass Oklahoma), I don’t believe that churches should be pressured to perform gay marriages if it is against their beliefs. I firmly believe every consenting adult should have the right to be legally married to any consenting adult that will have them. I believe that every state in our union should legally allow it. I think it is an intrusion on separation of church and state to move it any further than that. I also don’t think anyone will ever try. I am just trying to show that I can be sensible. It is a game I play.
Geeks a Geeking