SF/F vday column

Writing this was a class-A PitA, but I think I came out pretty well.

http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474976905662

gay in hollywood

http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/TV/02/08/out.actors.ap/index.html

I think the article is correct that female actors face less drama about this, but, unless you're very traditionally beautiful, if you're a gay woman you have to work twice as hard to convince people you're attractive, which is a big part of the game.

really real

I always stop at Babycakes on my way to fencing on Wednesdays. Today there was a new woman working the counter and after I placed my order (1 cinnamon crunchie and 5 brownies), she said, "Is that a fencing mask?"

"Yeah, my class is just up the street."

"I've never seen one in real life before!"

I was tickled, but the truth is the phrase "real life" annoys me. When it was just used to differeniate between film, TV and plays (that is, life witnessed) and our lives out here (that is, life experienced), it didn't drive me up the wall. But in the advent of the relationships we develop in this medium there is now this habit to say "real life" as if what happens here is somehow unreal. I prefer, strongly, "face to face" or "in person."

None of which is overwhelmingly relevant to the matter of this woman and my fencing mask, except it got me thinking, were I to use such phraseology (I don't), what in my world would constitute "real life" as opposed to, well, all the other stuff. And the answer is everything from my point of view and easily nothing from the POV of others. And I'm not trying to be all clever and say I don't make distinctions about these things -- obviously I'm at least aware of them, or this post wouldn't even be being made.

I love my so-called fictional life. Because it's very very real. And I wish more people felt that the decision of what is real or not resides with those living it, not those watching it.

even my setting is fictional

I saw a massive wild hawk hanging out on the ground in Madison Square Park today eating a squirrel.

(no subject)

Just came back from an excessively lovely barn dance experience with wordsofastory. Ran into someone from high school (more on that later), and a creepy dude in leather trying to evoke some sort of poetic fantasy but in lacking a poet's shirt was wearing just a crappy white work shirt with his trying too hard ensemble. I still would have felt kindly towards him had he not been inappropriately grabby with me and everyone.

But it was as always inspirational. Although next time we must not go for Mexican foos first. My hair smells like fajitas.

I'm all exhilirated-y and covered in plot bunnies.