I am a nerd. I am also married to a nerd. And by nerd, I mean that we are database programming, web page writing, network administrating, table-top and live action gaming, science fiction/fantasy reading, Matrixwatching nerds. We own Palm Pilots and numerous accessories, including foldable keyboards and devices to charging them through the cigarette lighters in our cars. Our rewards for accomplishing things tend to be new electronics (like new video games, or a web server, or some fancy new gadget for the computer). We have been known to sit in the same room and instant message each other back and forth, just because we can.

The problem, however, is that while I freely admit being a nerd (and I'm not even as much of a nerd as he is!) my husband refuses to claim the title himself. He is too cool, he says, to be a nerd. Luckily both his family and mine recognize true nerdishness when they see it, and while he can protest all he wants, he has no choice. He's a nerd.

These two particular nerds are sitting in our hotel room, each with our laptops on our laps, and both online at the same time. This is because Richard brought our wireless modem with him and hooked it up to the hotel's free high-speed internet port. Even nerdier, two of our coworkers also have network cards and we're all going to try to get rooms right next to each other next week so they can try to access the wireless as well.

This amuses me greatly. It's not as if we're stealing anything, because after all, the high speed access is free with the room. It's just the concept – that the wireless modem has suddenly become something that travels with us when we go on the road.

This has been an entry written in the spirit of AlphaBytes.