July 29th, 2003


What I Did on My Summer Vacation

I worked! Lots! Because I am a Big, Dumb Grown-Up.

When I went to catch the bus tonight, the first one was sitting there with its doors closed, so I banged very loudly with my palm--loud enough to be heard--on the back door. The driver ignored me, as drivers do, and as it began pulling away, I kicked the door hard with my nice black shoe, and I shattered the entire lower pane of glass.

I feel really bad about it. Really. It'll keep me up nights. I may never sleep again.

On the way home, I saw:

* A man walking a bulldog on a leash, while on the back of the dog perched a tiny kitten with its claws dug in, and its mouth opened wide, squeaking.
* An almost perfect spiral nebula of ants, munching on something sticky.

It is hot, hot, freaking hot here.

I got my Kane CD and will listen to it tomorrow.

"Loser" is a really, really good movie despite its packaging, and it almost reverses my belief that Jason Biggs must have signed a pact with Satan to advance his acting career.

Also, the "Cruel Intentions" soundtrack kicks ass, and Sarah Michelle Gellar was born in 1977. That really surprises me. I honestly thought she was the same age as her character.

This is all so random, I know.

Must remember to watch "Nip/Tuck" tonight. It's so easy to forget to tune in when you're new to a show.

Current books I'm reading: Elizabeth George's latest, "A Traitor to Memory," and my first Connie Willis book, "To Say Nothing of the Dog."

I feel amazingly competent at work lately. I should be making more money. I wish I could figure out how to convey to my manager the full extent of work I perform. Maybe I should cc her on every piece of e-mail I send for an entire week. Kidding. But really, no one ever gets a truly substantial raise at my company, and I am starting to want one. I like where I work, and the job market is lousy--I am not leaving any time soon. The last three people I personally know who left the company (voluntarily, thinking they were making the right move) are all looking for work. I am just coming up on a year as editor (a title that conveys only the tiniest part of what I do). I would like to keep this job for at least another year. It feels pretty safe, as jobs go.

I appreciate, by the way, everyone's comments these last few days. If I could focus my chicken-fried brain, I'd answer some. I am soooooooooo totally work-whacked, it's not even funny.

I want monsters and madmen and severed heads. Why haven't my MST3K tapes come, damn it? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy? Sigh.


shades of grey

I want to be Merry when I grow up. Not for the first time. I wish I were possessed of the powers of reason that would let me argue something so intelligently, and with such composure. Way classy.

Despite my flippant remarks the other day, I actually don't have simple opinions on RPF. In fact, as with a lot of other subjects, I'm not sure that I have opinions, as much as I do thoughts and questions. Either I'm a big wuss, or a waffle, or I just don't care enough--I'm only on the fringes of RPF fandom, after all. An occasional consumer. Actually, for a while now, I haven't given much thought to RPF as a genre, beyond individual stories. I've moved past my initial disquieted challenging phase, to an acceptance phase. I know that along the way there were several discussions on lists and such that influenced and directed my thoughts. But I think the four things that mostly made it palatable were:

  • Reading stories. Really, really good stories. Intelligent, sweet, charming stories.
  • Realizing that most of the sparkly people I knew (RPF fans) were examples of fandom at its best--that they were some of the giddiest, friendliest, sanest, smartest people in my vicinity.
  • Thinking of celebrities as being, in some ways, personas, many of whose facets are created--in many cases fictionalized--by publicists.
  • Hearing more than one person describe how they used to write stories about rock stars in their notebooks as teenagers, which made me see RPF as a not-so-crazy extension of that.

    I know the last two points can't just be taken at face value. Personas still cover real people, and the medium is at least as important as the message--meaning, things written in notebooks don't always equate to things posted online. (Which reminds me of some of the points raised in that speech I posted a link to the other day, A Group Is Its Own Worst Enemy.)

    Anyway, I guess the problem with the consent argument is, I don't really agree, at least not for fandoms with fictional characters. I mean, it's great that Joss Whedon says "Go forth and write fan-fiction!" But the fact is, I was reading and writing it years ago, when it had a much stronger whiff of legal transgression, and I am not sure I'd stop if some of my favorite fandoms started getting mobilized, organized, and aggressive about pursuing what they see as copyright infringement. I think it'd be highly misguided if they did, because fandom is a collaborative and creative force, and if you slam your fans, you risk your money-maker. I guess...if I were in a fandom where the suits were trying to suck away all my joy, I might not feel *compelled* to stop writing or reading, but I might end up gravitating away from that particular religion, which didn't respect its worshippers. It might sour a fandom for me. That'd be sad.

    But regarding consent when it comes to RPF, that does make sense to me. And, even though I read RPF, I'm not really *in* any RPF fandoms, and lack insight into their tenets, so maybe I should ask people who are: has consent "historically" been considered an important point or hot topic in those fandoms--in N'Sync fandom, for example? I kind of question whether the majority of people really would stop writing if band members voiced unhappiness. But I raise that question from a very uninformed position, outside of fandom, and don't mean to be offensive. As an example of weirdness to me, though, is that people write stories about Eminem, which--because of his views on homosexuality, as far as I'm familiar with them--seems more subversive than usual. As if to say, "In just seven pages, I can make you a man. A gay man!" Like, it's hard for me to imagine he'd welcome stories like that about him.

    But what do I know? Really. I don't follow celebrity profiles that closely. Definitely not his.

    You know, James Marsters's wigs weren't *that* bad in LMPTM. I am actually feeling more forgiving as I rewatch those early Victorian scenes, now, with the sound off.

    Am I the only one who will probably watch "Freddy Vs Jason"?

    Just wondering.

  • elijah

    last gasp

    Like anaxila, I also want to link to thebratqueen's post on porn. Like Merry, the Queen of Brats is a smart thing saying smart things. It's really fascinating to me how our assumptions and attitudes (women's, I mean) about porn have changed over time. Mine have definitely mutated over the years, as cultural definitions of porn have widened in variety. If that makes sense.

    Yesterday, I lamented the LJ, today I celebrate it.

    Mood swings! Mood swings! Everyone loves mood swings!