I’ve never announced this in such a public forum. I, Amelia, am a Trekkie. When I was 12, I wrote a book (200 pages, single-spaced). A Star Trek book. There was Trekkie friendship and Trekkie romance, and writing it was my outlet at a time when I was very shy and very acne-d. I have gone to not one but two “Star Trek” conventions—although, in my defense, it was my dad’s idea. My first celebrity crush was on Wil Wheaton, who played Wesley on “The Next Generation,” and I wrote him two fan letters. “Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan” is the best of the movies, but I hate “Star Trek: IV,” otherwise known as “the one with the whales.” I still watch “Star Trek” sometimes, when I catch an episode on TV, and no one is around to make fun of me. I have seen every episode of the first series and the “Next Generation” series multiples times, and I think the other series pale in comparison.
For 20 years, “Star Trek” has been my secret shame, my guilty pleasure. Being a “Star Trek” fan has never, ever, ever been cool. “Star Wars” and “Battlestar Gallactica” have always been for the cool nerds. “Star Trek” was for the friendless losers. But seeing Heidi Klum flashing the “Live Long and Prosper” gang sign at the L.A. premiere of the “Star Trek” prequel movie made me realize something. My secret shame is suddenly cool. And I am annoyed.