sundries

[rm]

Hey all, sorry for the absence yesterday. I had rehearsal, which also was filming for the D&J fundraiser video, which then turned into me being obsessive about editing the fundraiser video, and that was my whoooooooooooole day. Erica actually had to remind me that we've only been at this 8 days, because I'm apparently impatient even at this rate of progress -- also it's felt like three weeks. Make of that, and my issues, as you will.

Dressed like a girl for the fund raising video (in a shirt of Patty's! -- Patty, who is awesome and sent me video of the creepy chickens that live in the yard at the house where she's staying), because I felt that would be more effective in securing donations from strangers. Still feel sort of weird about that, even as I think it was the right choice for the project. Mmmmm, yeah.

Missed NYCC. Almost feel guilty. Certainly there were some friends and acquaintances I'd like to have seen. But most of my main projects aren't in that domain right now (although things! soon!), and as such it was hard to carve out the time.

That said, who here is going to WFC? I won't be there, but I may want to put you in touch with some people for everyone's mutual benefit. Long story. But let me know, though.

My class reunion was a completely acceptable, yet oddly boring, occurrence wherein I thought most people were trying to prove they were aggressively normal (at the 10-year it was about being aggressively fabulous). I mean, it was all fine, but it's rare for me to be in a room where I feel obligated to really talk about my desk job. It was great to see chite and David a few other people, but I can't say I know if I'd go to another one. Whatever point it ever had for me is fading.

I remain taken aback however, by David saying how cool he thought I was. When I look back to my group of friends in high school, I always thought they thought I was wild and crazy and not in the good way. I was trying SO HARD to seem cool and sophisticated and like I had this whole other life outside of school shit (which I did to a given extent). It blows my mind that it worked, even a little.

The New York GOP candidate for governor attacked gays and lesbians in a speech over the weekend. New Yorkers and New York media are, it seems, outraged, and thank goodness for that. Because what an asshole move right before National Coming Out Day and on the heals of an anti-gay assault in which one of the victims was asked when he wanted to be beaten with a bat or a pipe.

We can never rest. I didn't even know this was an issue until today: but there's apparently a threat of a constitutional convention in Iowa in order to rescind marriage equality in that state.

For the moment the Battle Butler has been retired as the desktop image of my mac. I'm not over Torchwood; I'm just breathing. My relationship with the fandom and the narrative has been as exhausting as I expected things to be with Harry Potter in the end, yet didn't (thankfully, I can now say) actually experience.

Not that I know when I could possibly get to the movies, but in addition to seeing The Social Network I am interested in Never Let Me Go despite Patty's intense hatred of the book, which I've not read. However, I have question: how's the medical torture level? I know it's narratively necessary, but I'm keenly aware of how V for Vendetta and episode 2.1 of Being Human sat with me, and I need to know going into it, especially if it's eroticized on any level, because I can do movies like this, but I need to really brace myself for them.

The lost world: the rent was always paid on time, but the flat's been uninhabited since WWII. What it held was only discovered when the woman on the lease passed away at 91.

Fannish-esque: You know what's super fun? Luring your friends into your obsessions.

I have random thinky thoughts today about desire, text, "bad touch," and respect. But, eh. It's FotT stuff, and for another time.

Comments

[missysedai.livejournal.com]

My class reunion was a completely acceptable, yet oddly boring, occurrence wherein I thought most people were trying to prove they were aggressively normal (at the 10-year it was about being aggressively fabulous).

Except for my Senior year (which I spent abroad), I was MISERABLE in high school. So it should be no surprise that I declined to attend our class reunions (5, 10, 20) And yet, I'm told that at our 20th, a number of the people who had really made my high school days a special kind of hell were asking after me. I don't even

know

what to think about that.

[heavenscalyx.livejournal.com]

And yet, I'm told that at our 20th, a number of the people who had really made my high school days a special kind of hell were asking after me.

They have completely and totally blocked the fact that they made your life a living hell, and only recall that they thought you were cooler and better and smarter than they were and are curious about what you've been doing.

Back around my 20th, I was in contact with a classmate I vaguely knew at my first high school. In the course of chatting, I mentioned remembering one particular person as being my source of awful. Apparently, at the reunion, the person I told this to TOLD the person I mentioned. I then got email that was one long fauxpology, claiming she didn't remember doing anything of the sort, but that she's always tried to teach her kids to be kind, and blah blah blah blah blah.

I handwaved the response. She wasn't worth engaging.

[missysedai.livejournal.com]

I sometimes run into people from high school that tortured me, and they fall all over themselves to say Hi, blah blah look-at-me-I'm-awesome. They blither on for a minute about their job in this factory or that grocery store[1]. Then they ask me "SO! What are you doing these days?"

I will admit to a certain malicious glee at what follows. "Oh, you know, the usual. Coming up on my 20th wedding anniversary. I was a SAHM, the boys are 18 and 14 now. I take dance instruction and sometimes perform with Mesmeric's student troupe. Oh, and I work a lot. Mostly for [Big Software Company's Search Engine]. I spent five years with [Other Big Search Engine], but they changed contractor policies when they took the company public, and implemented term limits. Oh well."

It's satisfying to watch them blanch and stammer.

[1]I realize this makes me look like a classist asshole. I'm not. I come from a UAW family, and my husband is a retail district manager. But I happen to know that these are not the jobs these people intended to have when they graduated from college. These are the jobs that were beneath them, and now they

have to

do them to survive. Comeuppance is delicious.