Ummm, yeah

So I hate coming up with titles for these things because most of my posts are so lacking direction or focus. I'm thinking of visiting some random name generator to do it in the future.

I finished this major thing at work yesterday and I think I'm broken. Because I should feel better. Lighter. At least less sleep-deprived. But instead I went home yesterday and the only thing that kept me from crying all night was the chance to finally see Monday's Chuck and Heroes episodes. No, I'm not going to talk about how Heroes has sucked me into its strange cult of fuck!me! right now. There are things happening in my brain that I'm certain psychotropic medications may fix, but for now, I'm enjoying the ride.

I couldn't sleep last night (hence the sleep deprivation), and for some reason, my hands kept itching. Not in some prophetic "money!" way, but in a "Did I eat something weird?" way. But even that wasn't it. I sometimes itch when I'm stressed out. I broke out into hives on the day I was supposed to be competing in the Missouri State Junior Olympics. The night two of our cafe staff and my only other closing lead had to leave the store early, my manager almost sent me home because I was scratching my arms to bleeding. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's spectacular.

But I shouldn't have been feeling that at all yesterday. I should have felt light, grateful, pleased, even.

I am afraid I have become that thing I can't stand - an apathetic human. I know apathy is a normal reaction sometimes. That it protects us from internal and external stresses. My problem is with those who use it as an excuse to not care about anything going on around them, not engage with the world, and keep from even trying to make a difference. I see apathetic people as the close cousins of cynical people. And really, I don't hate such people. I love quite a few cynics, actually.

My apathy, though, is the result of something else. I've spoken before about how I do not know how to ask for help. Trust me when I say: I would rather chew off my own hand sometimes than ask for help. Not because I think I do everything best, but because I don't trust others will come through for me. I have been working very hard to let that go, to trust that the people in my life are willing to step in, hold me up, keep me sane, when I ask for it. But the asking is still hard as shit.

If my life were a movie, it would go something like this:
No, scratch that, not nearly important enough for a movie, maybe TV movie? Nope, nothing melodramatic enough happening. Little indie feature starring Catherine Keener (can she play me? because I lurvs her) that has no actual plot, but little character observations? ...no, then I'd have to have sex with an obviously mentally disturbed Jake Gyllenhaal character.

Hmmm.

Okay, if my life were an episode of Murder, She Wrote, I would be the character incorrectly accused of murder because I couldn't reach out to others and just when my faith in humanity is almost gone, sitting in my lonely jail cell, being harassed by the ignorant local cops, Jessica Fletcher would come riding in on her brilliant blaze of glory and show me what trust in others means, because she trusted I was innocent even though she didn't know me. She just had a feeling about me. Because she's made of all the awesome in the world. There is no more air for awesome when Jessica Fletcher is around. And don't get all "But everywhere she goes, people die!" Yeah? People die everywhere, bub. But with Jessica Fletcher around, you can guarantee the right person will go to jail for it.

My life, alas, is not an episode of Murder, She Wrote. Pity, that. I think Jessica Fletcher would be an awesome friend.

Because when I do ask for help? Really and truly break through that wall and say, "Hey! I'm drowning here! Please help me with this one specific thing, huh?" And whoever I ask says, "No problem!" And I feel better for a little while. Until it occurs to me nothing has been done. So when I do it again, because by this point, I really really need the help. And someone else says, "No problem!" I start feeling a little less better, because by this time I'm thinking...yep, right. No help there either. The laughable part comes when someone asks if they can help me and I say - all excited - Yes! Please! Can you do this? And they look at me and make some assenting noises and...right. Just tell me no, next time, 'k?

So instead of being the plucky girl wrongly accused of murder who learns that help is there if you ask for it, I am now the whiny bag of itchy sleep-deprived apathy who learns she can't count on those who are supposed to be there for her.

So I finished a long-overdue project yesterday. And I should feel lighter. Instead all I feel is the continuing pressure of everything else. And the sinking feeling I'm in this alone.

So...Heroes...

Can I say I hated it? No, I shouldn't. I didn't hate it. I was unimpressed. I was kind of bored. I think the character arcs are (deliberately?) predictable. Gee, is Nathan going to be tested...AGAIN? Oh looky...

Okay, you know what? I'm not gonna do it. Because right now, mine is one of millions of blogs spouting their opinions, defenses, eviscerations, and the like, of last night's episodes. And I hate being sheep. But last night, the Husband's BFF brought over Deuce the Wonder Puppy (no longer a puppy), and instead of being annoyed by all the attention she wanted, I was grateful to have a distraction from the blandness occurring onscreen.

I made a promise to the Husband that I would commit to this season (totally walked away last season before everyone else started complaining - I watch too much TV, something has to be completely fascinating to me to keep me watching), and commit I will. Most likely with several bitchy comments.

I actually had problems with Heroes from the beginning, but I liked the concept. And that's where the problems start. The idea of "concept shows" leave me a little cold. The "we're trapped on a island and weird things are happening and we can't get off and OMG and Holy Shit! is the island moving?!?" Yes, I am unafraid to be the lone geek on the planet who hates Lost.

Here's the thing with me and TV: I love it, but I don't need to be challenged by it. We live in a big complicated messy world populated by citizens who are contradictory in their equal parts frustrating and lovable ways. I live in a world that acknowledges the gray aspects of humanity daily. So I don't celebrate it on TV as some do. I know there are those who love that. Who love the open-endedness of complicated story arcs, and the way good guys aren't always heroes or heroes aren't always good guys. And I can see the appeal. These are intelligent shows that cater to adults and reflect life in subtle ways even if they take place on an imaginary island that travels through or exists outside of time.

Me? I like completeness. I like turning on a television show and knowing the main story to which I am introduced will be resolved. I like having heroes on my TV that are unrealistically good, because I don't think it's too unrealistic. For example, Eureka is about as fantasy as TV gets, but Jack Carter's Everyman is a lone True Good Guy in a sea of geniuses (genii? genium?) who have relied too much on their intellect to swim through life. Jack, who cannot think his way out of every situation, has to therefore be the one unafraid to take action. And he does so, even with reservation, because it is the right thing to do. I love Jack Carter because he represents to me why I watch TV: not to see characters acting hyper-realistic in a fantastic setting, but people acting heroically, no matter the setting.

I started watching Heroes because I wanted to see a group of people struggle and come to terms with their gifts. And I knew some of those people would be "bad guys." So for every Sylar, shouldn't there be someone- Anyone?- who is willing to be the hero? Evil characters are more interesting if they actually have a foil. Oh sure, we have Hiro ("Hiro from Heroes is the only true hero."), but he isn't Sylar's equal, and right now he's annoying the piss out of me for not realizing that events we witness in a hypothetical future aren't certain to occur because simply becoming aware of those hypothetical future events automatically changes them. Someone who teleports through time and space should know that by now. So Sylar? boring and whiny to me. Peter? So needs to pull that stick out of his ass (did the season one finale never happen?). Nathan? Okay, you can keep doing what you're doing (because you do it so well), but DO SOMETHING, for fuck's sake. Actually that last bit? Goes for all of you.

ETA 3 things: 1. Parkman thinking the turtle was talking to him? Priceless. 2. Why always the city blowing up (or whatever)? 3. Sorry I did the thing I said I wasn't going to do in para 2.

To make up for the whining, I include my pic of the day:

Deuce the Wonder Puppy (no longer a puppy)

Random in the key of D (flat)

FAIL.

Yes, that's me. And I welcome all derision. Because I have not watched the most recent Goren episode of LOCI yet. It is dutifully sitting in my DVR waiting for me to press play. As a result, I have not visited any of the VDO and LOCI-related sites I normally visit. I miss you guys, but I hate being spoiled.

Of course there is a reason. There is always a reason.

You see, when you live in the South and your air conditioner breaks and your city has just broken some record for most days in a row with 100+ degree temps, you kind of don't feel like sitting at home watching TV. Or reading. Or doing much of anything that involves more than breathing and letting your heart beat.

Oh, it's fixed now. And you know what I wanted to do first? Well, sleep, actually, but I also wanted to read. Read. Read! I missed books more than Bobby Goren. Yes I did. [for those interested: John Burdett's latest Bangkok book, William Gibson's Spook Country, and - thanks to Leila from Bookshelves of Doom - I am addicted to the E. Lockhart Boys series (also, when you visit Leila, be sure to check out her awesome T-shirts, I am the proud owner of one proclaiming Heathcliff to be a prat - so very true)]

But I have a question: did anyone else read a series of books when they were kids featuring triplets named Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka? I think they were picture books in the vein of Dick and Jane, but I'm having trouble placing them. Not that I think they were high literature for kids, it's just when I ran the kids department of mega bookstore chain, I had too much fun connecting with favorites from my childhood (specifically Harriet the Spy, The Westing Game, and Trixie Belden), but couldn't find anything about those oddly named triplets.

So I wrap this exercise in absolute pointlessness (and waste of your time) by introducing you to why I love The Guardian's online books section: The Digested Read. Funny!

Oh and one more thing: Knowing is half the battle. Truth.



Because you can never have just one:



Have a nice day.

I am immersed in layer upon layer of frustration

As part of my volunteer training, my instructors stress the importance of self-care. The kind of work I'm getting into will cause burnout in a matter of months if I don't find some way to create pockets of nurturing for my own spirit and soul. I'm not very good at that. In fact, I think it's safe to say I failed at least once before, causing my total flare-out while at mega bookstore chain (interestingly, I look back on that job with great affection, but shudder at the thought of returning specifically because I had no boundaries between Work and Life).

I do try though. After an especially intense training session on Saturday, I promised myself a Sunday of delights, starting with finishing a fabulous book and ending with the return of my not-so-secret obsession after a six month absence.

Book finished and wow, what the total wrong choice to make. I mean, it was fabulous--brilliant, even. But so so sad. Not depressing sad, but angsty, muted, as if the writing were drawn out in bleached watery color (or should I say colour, being that the novel is set in England). And given my lack of self-care abilities, I think I should have picked something a tad more chipper.

Then my show comes on and I was...unimpressed. Not that I was expecting to be blown away. Nothing this season has managed that so far. I have mentioned clearly before (see link above) that I do not like the way Leight has handled his showrunning. So I won't go into that again. It was all Bobby all the time, so I didn't leave too disappointed. I just. Wanted more.

I come to work unexpectedly upbeat, thinking this is the week I'm going to get something accomplished. So what happens? What always happens. Random time-eating monkey wrench meet the working cogs of my day.

So I stop and do what I do when I need an absolutely mindless break that is in no way connected to reality: I look for random slash.

Now don't get all grossed out on me. Hot guys having sex is scorchy. And there's a weird positive emotional component there, something having to do with seeing fictional characters who typify strong male stereotypes crawling over barriers of intimacy and trust. There have been articles written about it--academic ones, even. So I won't get into the whole shebang here.

I used to write slash in the Star Wars and Buffy fandoms. I used to read it in several others, including dueSouth, Star Trek (Kirk/Spock 4 eva!), The X-Files, and Angel. I am an OTPer, which means I lock onto a pairing as if my life depended on it and don't even tell me another pairing is better, or makes more sense thematically (really? haven't we thrown canon out the window by now?), or this gifted writer writes this pairing. I don't care. All I care about are three important things: 1) are the characters acting and talking like they do in the tv show/movie?; 2) are any major changes (ie, a girlfriend's defection to make way for the man-on-man love) well explained and believable?; and 3) is the writing good? (oh, and my unspoken 4th rule? no het sex. Period.)

Slash writers who are truly immersed in their writing and love of their shows put out stories that read like episodes of the shows themselves...with sex. Their stories are funny, raunchy, touching, action-packed, angsty, and do not shy away from emotion. Some people read romance novels, or thrillers, or repetitive SFF novels set in the same damn fantasy universe for their reality break. I read slash.

Looking for new fandoms is a challenge. Oh, they're out there. And easy to find. But that doesn't mean what you'll find is any good. There's a whole buncha crap on the internet and slash writing is no different. Writers one knows already may have a recs page, if one is lucky. Or one can go to fanfiction.net and randomly click (though it helps if you have a fandom in mind). Or you can just take your chances--as I did when I found this gem that made my whole day. It is a short and funny (and totally PG rated) post-Serenity Mal/Jayne. I think I just found my new OTP.

For anyone who may be interested here is one of my stories. It is from BtVS and is Spike/Xander. It is rated NC-17. If you'd like to know something about it, here is what Mad Poetess said when she recommended it:

Goddess D's Just Say Something: Rated NC-17. Deeply poetic fisting. No, seriously.

As Mad Poetess was one of the tops in the fandom at the time, I was pretty flattered. I don't read my stuff anymore, took my site down, am actually lucky I found that link among some relic archive sites, but there you go.

I don't write slash or fanfiction anymore because I just don't have the time. I put a lot of effort into my stories that I would rather use for real life stuff.

But I sure do like reading it still. I'm kind of on an Adam Baldwin kick lately and came across this amusing Chuck/Casey that also made me laugh and appreciate, well...anyway. It too, is NC-17. Don't say I didn't warn you. It may not be real, but it's real addictive.

Sometimes

...when I look at the world, our leaders, what guides people, and why people make the decisions they do, I become so very disheartened. I see our self-righteous, self-involved greed and feel sick; and I wonder if we're ever going to find a way to see clearly. Was it always like this? Have we always let the greater good languish while we worried more about our individual well-being?

I need good, positive, happy stories. I need to remember that individuals do fight for others to keep my hope from flagging. I think we all need to see the others care. We are connected. I believe we are all connected.

I'm just not feeling it right now.

Any thoughts?

Because, really, who wants to hear me whine anymore?

Dear Diary,

Sorry I've been such a whiny-butt lately. I must admit this was partly due to missing my family something awful. This past Sunday was Greek Easter (Eastern Orthodox Easter always falls on the first Sunday after Passover - as the last supper was a passover meal) and in my family (as in many Greek families), Easter is the end all-be all of holidays. There is always a ton of food, including a whole lamb being roasted over an outdoor spit. If I can remember, I'll get some pics to post - the nicest touch is the intact head with tongue sticking out! I guess that's actually pretty gross to think about, but if you recall this post, it's not like I was raised in some lily white sense of animal purity. Anyway, the family was all together over at my aunt's house yesterday and I was, well, at home. Since we've moved from New Orleans to Austin, I've spent every Greek Easter pretty low. The husband tried to cheer me up by grilling some lamb fillets, and for that I am grateful.

I was also reading this book at the time. I don't know why I'm suddenly reading such things. It's not really up my alley, but something about it spoke to me. But that's for another post.

And I'm not very happy at my job, which has never been much of a secret. No, I'm not a teacher. Perhaps if I were I would be happier. Perhaps, as music wench suggested, that's what I should be doing. It's what I wanted to do when I started college. Unfortunately, I found the course of study unchallenging (wow. that's not a real word?) and my classmates vapid future suburban soccer mom wannabes. At the time, I couldn't see past that. Now, I believe I could. My current job is as an operations manager for a funding organization. We assist some very cool grassroots groups in Central America. But I feel too disconnected from the work being done to feel I'm of any use. I'm more someone who wants to be the one interacting with the people involved, not worrying about how much donations have dropped in the past 3 months because I have so much stuff to do, I can't get any actual work done.

I suppose this is pretty weak, considering I now spent most of my apology for whining while whining. Just wanted to explain. Thanks for listening.

Love, D.