You Know You Are A Geek When
You look at a movie trailer and think, "I have that typeface."
You set up an automatic rerouting of your e-mail to your pager.
You get sudden attacks of bittersweet nostalgic feelings when thinking about your long-lost old Commodore 64, Sinclair ZX-81, TRS-80 (or whatever hardware you were raised on), and use large amounts of money/time trying to track one down.
You are wearing ten year old spectacles, made of steel.
You realize you _never_ cook, eating only take-away pizza.
You check your web access_page more than once a day.
You seriously consider devoting a web page to your computer. (Not the brand, mind you, but the actual computer itself)
You have more e-mail addresses than you do pairs of shoes.
You get depressed when you get less than 10 e-mail msgs a day.
You already know what you want to write both Master's papers and your dissertation about, and you just graduated from College.
You can discuss the philosophical and physical differences among the tangos.
Although vaguely insulted by pocket-protector jokes, you still find them funny.
You plan to get two Masters degrees.
You start getting paranoid you aren't getting all your e-mail.(If you have sent me e-mail, and there seems to be no life from me, try again.)
Someone asks you what languages you know, and you reply Upper Slavic, French, Esperanto and C.
You spend more than 10 minutes contemplating how traffic lights work.
You can talk for hours about how, in 25 years, the whole country won't have E-Mail addresses.
You design detailed floorplans before moving all of your furniture around.
You've created a new variety of rose.
If anyone has said to you: "You are Jhayden?!?! I see you on the Vax all the time!" (Insert the appropirate substitutions, as appropriate.)
You set up your own newsgroup.
If you know the correct pronunciation of Tex, Linux, and TCL.
If you paid $6000 for your computer and $500 for your car.
There's a newsgroup dedicated to you because of your netly activities.
Someone mentions the Q Continuum, and you know what that means.
You seriously consider scanning in a picture of a squirrel, just to bug Maryam. (Got the nice picture; am using it for blackmail.)
You get really excited that your mixer has a dough hook.
Everyone in the neighborhood brings you (to) their computers to figure out what is wrong.
You can hold detailed technical conversations in a second language.
You are on the Obscure Software and Computer Crap Junk Mailing Lists
You can explain how AppleTalk Networks work.
Sleep and nightime are no longer irrevocably linked
You arrange to get e-mail access no matter where you go.
WAIS is your life.
You walk past a Con and people know who you are.
You have a definite philosphy of stacking wood for fires.
You hear the word "Scuzzy" and the first thing you think of is not an adjective.
You went to a high school where the only team with a winning record was the Chess team.
You rig up elaborate mechanisms to do really basic tasks.
You know about USENET cultures in groups you don't even read.
You put your pathfinder on the web
You get REALLY excited when people from countries with limited access to the 'net are frequent visitors to your pages.
You don't hand in final papers unless they've been formatted on a desktop publishing program.
You write web pages about your web pages.
Your favorite part of Geometry was proving theorems.
You've ever contemplated collecting graters.
You can remember your web address faster than your phone number.
You'll spend a long time customizing a computer you'll use for one day to the absolute pinacle of comfort, but you won't bother to spend two hours sewing up a skirt, and wear the damn thing sarong style.
You do your best work after 11 p.m.
You work in a building where you need a badge to move between floors.
You calculate the odds of getting one of the primo parking spaces in relation to your apartment, factoring in time, weather, season, etc, and are accurate over 80% of the time.
You can count the number of moderately good hacker/computer dude type films on one hand. (I promised not to froth at the mouth when I went to go see The Net -- I failed miserably. )
You've bought one of those license plate holders on which you can have your URL or E-Mail address embossed.
You head straight past People and the always entertaining Weekly World News for this month's Computer Shopper
You can track the geek gene through your family tree.
You froth at the mouth when someone talks about the "Information Superhighway."
You are a member of the USENET elite, invoked in posts in threads to which you have not posted.
You can sing Tom Lehrer's element song.
Not only is your computer in the center of your room, it's set up so as allow 'netting from your couch, as well as your desk chair.
You arrange your jobs so you can telecommute.
You organize your CDs, so the tops all face upward, alphabetically, or by record label (If you do more than one of these, you are an Anal-Retentive Geek).
You spend a lot of time figuring out which of 100 adult goldfish are the most fertile, have the strongest genes, and combined to produce tiny little goldfish.
You carry an 88 mb removable cartridge to and from work.
You can sing any song from Grease 2. If you do the hand movements while singing, you should get out more.
You plot to get your grandmother on E-mail.
You've ever contemplated devoting a web page to World News Now, Kevin, Thalia, Bill, Shielah, Nissan, Okido, Asha, Dick Schapp, Willis, or, natch, Barry.