My mother was either telepathic or she had secret cameras in my apartment, and I hoped for the latter.

So you do know!" I shouted. My phone lay there like a genie's bottle, inanimate and yet containing the ability to grant me wishes and knowledge. "Girl, spill before I come over and dye your hair a natural color.

Hey, Doc, we better back up. We don’t have enough road to get up to eighty-eight,” I quoted as I slid into the passenger seat.“‘Roads?’” he replied in an excellent impression of Christopher Lloyd’s eccentric scientist. “‘Where we’re going, we don’t need roads!’” The call-and-response rituals of geeks were a thing of beauty, and allowed said geeks to identify each other across time and space.

Ducking autocorrect!