In my small apartment, an assortment of geeks and nerds, myself included, are seated in my… In my small apartment, an assortment of geeks and nerds, myself included, are seated in my living room. Three laptops and several third-edition Dungeons ‘ Dragons books are scattered throughout the room. Several people whip out their memory keys to compare size, and jokes ensue.

This is my Saturday night, spent with friends and pizza as I invent the world and the bad guys. It’s a far cry from my humble geek beginnings.

I guess I’ve always been awkward. A card made by my best friend hangs on my fridge as a testament to this. It bears the cartoon images of her and me in full middle school glory. Granted, everyone was pretty awkward in middle school, but our awkwardness was much more apparent to our peers and us.

I trace the roots of my nerdy destiny all the way back to elementary school. It was the ’80s, and big hair and neon clothes were all the rage. My hair was just a little too big for a second grader, and my outfits were just a little too fluorescent.

I remember one in particular: Neon leopard-print spandex pants with a matching black sweatshirt emblazoned with the neon image of a cat’s head and the words “Cool Cat.” Irony has never been so painful.

I stepped into middle school with buckteeth that probably stuck out further than my washboard chest. Then I added a bad perm to the mix. I often found myself desperately running to catch the bus. And my growth spurt ran even later than I did.

At last, puberty came and banished the baby fat. After one unfortunate run-in with the lawnmower, my retainer was replaced and did its work well. I stepped into high school with resolve. This was it: the year I would change myself.

The first order of business, of course, was to get myself a boyfriend. A boy seemed like a self-esteem necessity. Unfortunately, after several months of futile pursuits, it looked as though I was going to have to develop my own self-esteem.

My classmates were less than helpful with this endeavor.

Mostly I owe my survival of middle school and early high school to my best friend, the “X-Files” trivia goddess, Nathalie. We sat in her basement and pored over X-Files books in anticipation of the next one-hour high. Sunday nights when we were apart, we would call each other during the commercial breaks to discuss Mulder’s telling expression as he looked at Scully.

School was still a trial right up until 11th grade. The change probably had something to do with the introduction of a new friend in my life, a big, jolly new kid from Virginia. He seemed to feel no real need to fit in. We became fast friends.

Slowly, I began to follow his example. It became easier to walk down the halls. The people around me, in their shiny new Abercrombie clothing with their bright teeth and perfect hair, seemed a little less invincible. They became people just like me, awkward at times, seeking approval from each other.

Life is a hell of a lot less scary when you realize that everyone else is just as vulnerable as you are. It matters less what other people say when you take into consideration that they are prone to error, just as you are. This is a part of the human condition.

I came to college and I found a lot of people who have similar stories. Being a geek is more common here, because the biggest factor in college success isn’t necessarily intelligence; it’s passion.

And being a geek is all about being passionate: loving “The X-Files” so much that you can rattle off episode numbers and names; caring enough about computers that you take yours apart to study it; reading Shakespeare so many times that you know even the lines that aren’t necessarily quote-worthy.

It’s also about being open-minded, not fearing things that are a little out of the ordinary, not considering yourself too cool to participate in Magic tournaments or trivia contests.

Which brings me here, to this moment, when I can say that I don’t mind if I spend my Saturday nights in the company of geeks and gaming books. I don’t mind if everyone in the world knows my dirty little secret (I saw “The Lord of the Rings” five times in the theater, including a midnight showing). And I don’t care if someone looks at my “X-Files” DVD collection and thinks that I’m a geek.

I embrace my inner nerd.

Ginger McCall welcomes stories from fellow geeks. She can be reached at [email protected].