Anyone who gets the titles gets a point.....

Life, Don't Talk To Me About Life


Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Me and Couldn't Care Less About

With apologies to Elf, whose title I just pilfered up there.... Sorta.

I was born the third of February, 1978, at 12:56 am in the Boston Lying-In in the Fenway region of Boston (not the ballpark). My parents, after deciding not to saddle me with the initials resulting from being Heather Elizabeth, named me Heather Anne Nicoll.

How's that for a start?

Anyway, at the ripe old age of six months, my family and I moved to Hyattsville, Maryland, which nobody has ever heard of- it's just east of Washington, DC.
At dinnertime on March 12, 1982, my brother James Craig William was born. I love my brother dearly, even though I may have to throttle him. He's a cute kid, who, according to my mother, claims he's doing much better in school since I'm in college- I'm not around for him to bug anymore.
Since the subject seems to have come up naturally, I shall mention my parents- My father Jeff is a physicist who thinks for the Defense Department (they need all the help they can get) and my mother Michaele is an artist who does really nifty paintings.

Back on track- We lived in Hyattsville until I more or less got through elementary school at the enterprisingly named Hyattsville Elementary School. Then we moved to VPD.... Very Presigious Darnestown. Which is about as obscure as it sounds. (The VPD is one of my father's jokes.)

I live on the right edge of nowhere.
Poolesville is the middle of nowhere.

Anyway, I suffered through junior high and as a result tried to put myself out of my misery using the International Baccalaureate Program (at Richard Montgo mery HS in the ever-exciting Rockville). This is one of the more amusing ways I have found to commit mental suicide and I highly recommend it.

By popular demand, I am now inflicting a vagely comprehensible picture of myself upon the Web.
This dates from spring break, and was taken by Joel, who was visiting and inflicted a camera on me 'cause he said he'd forget what I look like otherwise.

The IB not being successful at murdering my brain cell, I caught a bad case of college applications and landed with a THUMP here at Wellesley C ollege in Wellesley, Massachusetts, a town known on-campus as the vil. Boston is town. I don't think this was a mistake. Though the physics/astronomy double major might be. We'll see how my classes wind up working out....

I have, in fact, survived the first semester-- sorta. I spent it writing up my web page here on the Wilbur server, as it is maintained in its somewhat dubious status by the Wellesley Web Weavers. For this task, I owe great thanks to my beloved roommate, Anne, and Leanne, who gets to reboot Wilbur every single gods-be time it crashes, because she is the one blessed with the key to the room in which it is kept. We hope Wilbur will stop making clunka-clunka noises for a while now that he's fixed....

I tell a lie. *sigh* I gave up on Wilbur and moved to Fledge, to an account that I got in what I must insist is the truly strangest way to get an account on a computer, which amuses me enough that I must relate it:
I am on a MUD. I hesitate to admit it, but I must, and we're all geeks here; after all we're all on the web. I'm sure someone will understand.
This is no ordinary MUD. This is Spock. (See the games page for details.) Spock is run out of this selfsame computer, Fledge, and the reason I'm on is my roommate's fault and I take minimal responsibility for it. *grin* Anyway, the siteadmin here, Robert, who I have met once, is also one of the Wizards of Spock, and the one who's around the most. I had commented that he was idling, which he does, we have had some remarkably disjointed conversations in fact. The rest of the conversation went like this:

Robert: Idle time equals status.
Me: Is that so?
Robert: Yup.
Me: (something inane, morally equivalent to: *nod* *smile*)
Robert: Would you like an account on Fledge so you can accumulate idle time too?
Me: Oh sure, why not?
And thus it happened.

Life moving on, as life often does, I found myself surviving a vast number of complicated things, and have dropped out of college, currently living in beautiful Quincy, Massachusetts, with two SCAdians and a stray actually normal person.

Greater complexities in life are, well, greater and more complex. However, they are not particularly relevant. One could mention the number of conversations I have had dealing with the meaning of jobs, for example, or Victorian houses, and many other things. However, they are not of deep interest to the biographer.

Well, having brought myself up to the present, I will bump you over to My People, if you want to see a list of names and the occasional link. There are also other things to stare blankly at, and also things to think about. Or you could go back to the beginning.