As a self-respecting Harry Potter fanatic, I should have been more pleased when I heard of J. K. Rowlings mysterious new project, Pottermore. But I was strangely blase. Even when I saw the announcement video, I just couldn't work out what was going on in her head. What was the point of this 'online reading experience'?
But now I've been beta testing for a week and I have really quite into it. It's heartwarming. I don't think it's complicated or particularly revolutionary. It just taps into the longing we all have to go to Hogwarts. The artwork is beautiful. You just get to relive the stories again. And all the new content is amazing.
Just two minutes ago, as I read about wand woods, I felt like I did when I used to play Hogwarts in the study with a dressing gown and chopstick. This magical, warm, safe kind of feeling. Burgeoning imagination or something. I recognized it as soon as I felt it. That's how playing Hogwarts used to feel.
Guess JKR's got something right here.
Also, the law student in me read the terms and conditions thoroughly. Studying contracts scares you into reading them every time.
I was sorted into Hufflepuff, which was a bit galling at first but now is a complete honour. I also think it does suit me extremely well. When registration opens fully in October, I may well create another account and take the test again, answering just as honestly and see if I get in Hufflepuff again.
I have to go; my forgetfulness potion should be brewed now...
Friday, August 26, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Out of my League
One thing I don't like about being 'all grown up': You're not supposed to cry.
You have to handle things maturely. You have to respond appropriately. And mostly I think this is a very good idea. But not today.
I was with some friends after a seminar, and I had expressed attraction for someone from the class.
I was promptly told by one of my friends that the person in question was 'major league' and that I would not have shot as I was a 'nerd'. The nerd, he told me, never gets the really attractive people. It just doesn't happen, he confidently asserted to my face.
In all honesty, I hadn't any intention to pursue the person in question. I was merely appreciating their good looks. But to be told that I had no chance because I was somehow inferior was a horrible blow.
As a mature adult with excellent perspective I was supposed to be confident in myself and to throw off that comment. And in appearance I think I did. I stood up for myself and for nerds everywhere and told him he was wrong. But when we parted company, the only thing I wanted to do was to run to my Best Friend and sob to her what he'd said, because I'll be honest, it'd really hurt.
But my Best Friend was a half-hour drive away at another university. And the friends I had with me were not people I'd feel right crying in front of. Because 'grown-ups' don't cry.
Today I was told I was barred from dating the upper echelon because I am an undateable, inferior nerd. What a shallow assessment. So I have pictures of my Harry Potter party on my Facebook page? So my idea of a good Saturday is the Antiques Fair followed by an evening making fun of Twilight? So what if there's a Hogwarts uniform on the back of my door and a dolls house workshop in my back room?
This is what makes me unique. This is what makes me interesting. Yes, there are people who I am incompatible with, who are not attracted to me, who do not have common interests with me, who I just plain shouldn't be with. But that doesn't make them out of my league.
Case in Point: Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Aladdin and Jasmine. Beauty and the Beast. Mary Donaldson and the freaking Crown Prince of Denmark!
In other news, I have been perusing my blog statistics. A scarily large number of pageviews come from people searching how to do polygamy on Sims. It gladdens my heart to know there are more people like me out there.
You have to handle things maturely. You have to respond appropriately. And mostly I think this is a very good idea. But not today.
I was with some friends after a seminar, and I had expressed attraction for someone from the class.
I was promptly told by one of my friends that the person in question was 'major league' and that I would not have shot as I was a 'nerd'. The nerd, he told me, never gets the really attractive people. It just doesn't happen, he confidently asserted to my face.
In all honesty, I hadn't any intention to pursue the person in question. I was merely appreciating their good looks. But to be told that I had no chance because I was somehow inferior was a horrible blow.
As a mature adult with excellent perspective I was supposed to be confident in myself and to throw off that comment. And in appearance I think I did. I stood up for myself and for nerds everywhere and told him he was wrong. But when we parted company, the only thing I wanted to do was to run to my Best Friend and sob to her what he'd said, because I'll be honest, it'd really hurt.
But my Best Friend was a half-hour drive away at another university. And the friends I had with me were not people I'd feel right crying in front of. Because 'grown-ups' don't cry.
Today I was told I was barred from dating the upper echelon because I am an undateable, inferior nerd. What a shallow assessment. So I have pictures of my Harry Potter party on my Facebook page? So my idea of a good Saturday is the Antiques Fair followed by an evening making fun of Twilight? So what if there's a Hogwarts uniform on the back of my door and a dolls house workshop in my back room?
This is what makes me unique. This is what makes me interesting. Yes, there are people who I am incompatible with, who are not attracted to me, who do not have common interests with me, who I just plain shouldn't be with. But that doesn't make them out of my league.
Case in Point: Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Aladdin and Jasmine. Beauty and the Beast. Mary Donaldson and the freaking Crown Prince of Denmark!
In other news, I have been perusing my blog statistics. A scarily large number of pageviews come from people searching how to do polygamy on Sims. It gladdens my heart to know there are more people like me out there.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Harry Potter: A Decade of Magic
On Tuesday evening I went to the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows: Part 2. It was a wonderful night, but it didn't feel like I expected it to. I thought it would feel like the book release four years ago; the best day of my life. That day I felt happy and safe, cloistered in another world and totally filled with joy. I thought since I coped with the last book well, the last film premiere would be fine. It was amazing to be at; hoardes of people lining up for hours, costumes, decorations and excitement. I had expected all this, but it was still awesome to behold.
What I had not anticipated was the immense pain that crept into my heart as we entered the cinema. I felt numb. I couldn't face the end, I kept thinking that I wasn't prepared. This felt more like the end than anything else, maybe because there are no more films or books now, maybe because life has already changed so much this year and this was just one more piece of my old life spiralling out of my grip.
I wasn't unhappy (not physically possible at a Harry Potter event) but I was in pain. All through Part 1 the feeling in my chest was akin to a broken heart. Actually it was exactly like a broken heart, an affliction I suffered three years ago and never wanted to repeat. Part 1 swept me away but if I ever dropped concentration for a second and registered where I was, the thudding pain in my heart was still there. I was keenly aware that a chapter of my life was closing, and (not to be too dramatic) that a part of me was switching off the lights and leaving forever.
Harry Potter has been there for the last decade of my life, comforting, sustaining, entertaining, enriching, educating and thrilling me.
It's been an absolute honour to grow up at this time, in this place, with Harry Potter. I wasn't with it right from the beginning (when it was published I was four), but I got into it early enough that I can call it my whole life. My life before Harry Potter was barbies and play-dates. Little nothings.
Ten years ago I read Philosophers Stone for the first time. It was the night before I saw the film; my parents had said I could only come to the movie if I'd read the book, otherwise I'd be too frightened. I wasn't about to let my brother see a movie that I couldn't, so I read the book on my Grandma's couch in one night. Eight years old and still in a pretty serious horse-phase, I remember dropping the book down for a second and thinking; "this is amazing" before reading furiously on.
I had quite a serious case of Hogwarts-envy for the next year or so. I would set up a classroom in the study and play Hogwarts for hours on end. I had a load of 'textbooks' and a dressing gown and a chopstick and that was all I needed. It was magic. Nowadays I have a beautiful handmade wand and a very expensive, very faithful Hogwarts uniform, and yet I can't ever quite recapture the magic of those first Hogwarts games.
I remember once bouncing on our trampoline with a broom between my legs and honestly believing that maybe I could fly and I didn't know it. Maybe if I just tried I'd shoot off into the air and ascend to the clouds.
Later I stopped playing a Hogwarts student myself and started recreating it with paper dolls that I made myself; one of the first things I did when we got a computer for the first time; a clunky old Windows 95. I made about a hundred dolls on Paint, with accessories; little owls and cauldrons. And I drew backdrops, elaborate pictures of all the rooms in Hogwarts. I drove my Mum mad with all bluetack I got stuck on her walls pinning Hogwarts up. But it was wonderful. I wish with all my heart that I could see it again. Time and hard play made them tatty and worn out, and they were thrown out.
If I had them now, I would take them to show my Best Friend and we would probably have played with them while we waited for the midnight release. We would undoudtedly be very silly, acting out our favourite canon scenes and fanfictions and making wierd ships get together. Dumbledagrid, anyone? Once we actually did play silly games with her Lego Hogwarts.
All of these memories and many more, sharp and detailed, span through my mind as I struggled to be ready to truly say goodbye to my Harry Potter childhood.
Nothing lasts forever. My time as a child growing up with Harry Potter is over now, and I must deal with that eventually although I am still not quite there yet. But here's the silver lining; now I get to see what it's like to be an adult who grew up with Harry Potter. And there is very little groundwork for that category of person, so I get to decide what that means and what that involves.
I have many dreams for my life as an adult of the Harry Potter generation. They involve my Best Friend and I commemorating July 21st as a celebration of Harry Potter long into the future. I also fully expect a Harry Potter theme to creep into my wedding. And I am absolutely certain that one day, when my children are Hogwarts age (ten or eleven), I will tuck them in one night and begin to read them a story called Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.
I credit the last beautiful thought of this homily entirely to my dearest Best Friend. After the release, we walked slowly out of the cinema; she and I and her sister.
"That was a fun decade," I said, half-serious, half-joking, "What do we do now?"
"We follow their example." She said.
And I will. I will always ask myself; 'What would Harry, Ron and Hermione do?' and I will encourage my children to do the same.
What I had not anticipated was the immense pain that crept into my heart as we entered the cinema. I felt numb. I couldn't face the end, I kept thinking that I wasn't prepared. This felt more like the end than anything else, maybe because there are no more films or books now, maybe because life has already changed so much this year and this was just one more piece of my old life spiralling out of my grip.
I wasn't unhappy (not physically possible at a Harry Potter event) but I was in pain. All through Part 1 the feeling in my chest was akin to a broken heart. Actually it was exactly like a broken heart, an affliction I suffered three years ago and never wanted to repeat. Part 1 swept me away but if I ever dropped concentration for a second and registered where I was, the thudding pain in my heart was still there. I was keenly aware that a chapter of my life was closing, and (not to be too dramatic) that a part of me was switching off the lights and leaving forever.
Harry Potter has been there for the last decade of my life, comforting, sustaining, entertaining, enriching, educating and thrilling me.
It's been an absolute honour to grow up at this time, in this place, with Harry Potter. I wasn't with it right from the beginning (when it was published I was four), but I got into it early enough that I can call it my whole life. My life before Harry Potter was barbies and play-dates. Little nothings.
Ten years ago I read Philosophers Stone for the first time. It was the night before I saw the film; my parents had said I could only come to the movie if I'd read the book, otherwise I'd be too frightened. I wasn't about to let my brother see a movie that I couldn't, so I read the book on my Grandma's couch in one night. Eight years old and still in a pretty serious horse-phase, I remember dropping the book down for a second and thinking; "this is amazing" before reading furiously on.
I had quite a serious case of Hogwarts-envy for the next year or so. I would set up a classroom in the study and play Hogwarts for hours on end. I had a load of 'textbooks' and a dressing gown and a chopstick and that was all I needed. It was magic. Nowadays I have a beautiful handmade wand and a very expensive, very faithful Hogwarts uniform, and yet I can't ever quite recapture the magic of those first Hogwarts games.
I remember once bouncing on our trampoline with a broom between my legs and honestly believing that maybe I could fly and I didn't know it. Maybe if I just tried I'd shoot off into the air and ascend to the clouds.
Later I stopped playing a Hogwarts student myself and started recreating it with paper dolls that I made myself; one of the first things I did when we got a computer for the first time; a clunky old Windows 95. I made about a hundred dolls on Paint, with accessories; little owls and cauldrons. And I drew backdrops, elaborate pictures of all the rooms in Hogwarts. I drove my Mum mad with all bluetack I got stuck on her walls pinning Hogwarts up. But it was wonderful. I wish with all my heart that I could see it again. Time and hard play made them tatty and worn out, and they were thrown out.
If I had them now, I would take them to show my Best Friend and we would probably have played with them while we waited for the midnight release. We would undoudtedly be very silly, acting out our favourite canon scenes and fanfictions and making wierd ships get together. Dumbledagrid, anyone? Once we actually did play silly games with her Lego Hogwarts.
All of these memories and many more, sharp and detailed, span through my mind as I struggled to be ready to truly say goodbye to my Harry Potter childhood.
Nothing lasts forever. My time as a child growing up with Harry Potter is over now, and I must deal with that eventually although I am still not quite there yet. But here's the silver lining; now I get to see what it's like to be an adult who grew up with Harry Potter. And there is very little groundwork for that category of person, so I get to decide what that means and what that involves.
I have many dreams for my life as an adult of the Harry Potter generation. They involve my Best Friend and I commemorating July 21st as a celebration of Harry Potter long into the future. I also fully expect a Harry Potter theme to creep into my wedding. And I am absolutely certain that one day, when my children are Hogwarts age (ten or eleven), I will tuck them in one night and begin to read them a story called Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.
I credit the last beautiful thought of this homily entirely to my dearest Best Friend. After the release, we walked slowly out of the cinema; she and I and her sister.
"That was a fun decade," I said, half-serious, half-joking, "What do we do now?"
"We follow their example." She said.
And I will. I will always ask myself; 'What would Harry, Ron and Hermione do?' and I will encourage my children to do the same.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Marathon Facebook Rant
I am seriously considereing deleting my Facbook account. I thought it would be great for Uni, people assured me it would but I'm not so convinved anymore. For starters, I use it 90% of the time to talk to my best friend. 1 person (but alot of times). I have two or three times chatted with a guy in my Contracts class. 2 people. Twice I organised a study session using the message function. 4 people. Two catch ups. 6 people, we're up to now. And then I've had various conversations with people over message and comments, maybe ten people, so that makes a grand total of 16 people that I have actually connected with over facebook, and not just liked their status or stalked them.
Actually there was that argument about gay rights I had that time. It was unpleasant but still connecting. So 18 people.
18 people in six months
Average of three per month
I have 112 facebook friends.
So 94 of my 'friends' are in fact just a number in my friend count. They are random stuff that shows up in my news feed. The news feed stuffs not even good! All statuses about what people are 'keen' for (anything from the weekend to eating cheesecake. Fascinating.) or ones that start 'That awkward moment when...' when the story isn't an awkward moment. Get an original thought, people.
I don't hate the news feed. I have several facebook friends who post absolute gold statuses every time; I will sometimes go back months on their wall reading their statuses (Is that stalking?). But you have to wade through so much crap in the news feed to find this stuff. I often think, as I log onto facebook for the fifth time in one day: "What am I doing? What does this accomplish? Why do I even care?"
On the flipside though, you remember my best friend from High School who got into a different University and we were cruelly wrench apart? Well Facebook does help our relationship ALOT. I didn't see her for 25 days straight, but we talked so much via text, email and facebook that I didn't register this until day 22. I don't know if I could get rid of facebook if it meant I'd lose that extra connection.
So only practical solution: delete my 94-odd deadbeat facebook friends. And that doesn't seem rude at all! In all honesty I don't think I'd unfriend that many but it might be time for a spring clean. I don't want to be just a number in someone's friend count, I want people who really care. I want friends who are there for me, on and off Facebook. And I've found plenty of these real friends throughout Primary, High and now Law School. The rest of the numbers in my friend count can shove off until they're actually prepared to invest something in our friendship other than accepting a friend request.
From now on I'm going to drastically change my facebook attitude. If you don't do the time off facebook, you don't get it on facebook. It might take me a while to get the courage to implement this, but I'm going to try.
In other news, my hair is red now. Let's just say I take dressing up as a Weasley very seriously. Red hair really suits me, I've found but I have to not wear red or pink until the colour's gone (it's semi-permanent, 28 washes). Red looked amazing on me when I was light brown-haired, but not so much now.
Actually there was that argument about gay rights I had that time. It was unpleasant but still connecting. So 18 people.
18 people in six months
Average of three per month
I have 112 facebook friends.
So 94 of my 'friends' are in fact just a number in my friend count. They are random stuff that shows up in my news feed. The news feed stuffs not even good! All statuses about what people are 'keen' for (anything from the weekend to eating cheesecake. Fascinating.) or ones that start 'That awkward moment when...' when the story isn't an awkward moment. Get an original thought, people.
I don't hate the news feed. I have several facebook friends who post absolute gold statuses every time; I will sometimes go back months on their wall reading their statuses (Is that stalking?). But you have to wade through so much crap in the news feed to find this stuff. I often think, as I log onto facebook for the fifth time in one day: "What am I doing? What does this accomplish? Why do I even care?"
On the flipside though, you remember my best friend from High School who got into a different University and we were cruelly wrench apart? Well Facebook does help our relationship ALOT. I didn't see her for 25 days straight, but we talked so much via text, email and facebook that I didn't register this until day 22. I don't know if I could get rid of facebook if it meant I'd lose that extra connection.
So only practical solution: delete my 94-odd deadbeat facebook friends. And that doesn't seem rude at all! In all honesty I don't think I'd unfriend that many but it might be time for a spring clean. I don't want to be just a number in someone's friend count, I want people who really care. I want friends who are there for me, on and off Facebook. And I've found plenty of these real friends throughout Primary, High and now Law School. The rest of the numbers in my friend count can shove off until they're actually prepared to invest something in our friendship other than accepting a friend request.
From now on I'm going to drastically change my facebook attitude. If you don't do the time off facebook, you don't get it on facebook. It might take me a while to get the courage to implement this, but I'm going to try.
In other news, my hair is red now. Let's just say I take dressing up as a Weasley very seriously. Red hair really suits me, I've found but I have to not wear red or pink until the colour's gone (it's semi-permanent, 28 washes). Red looked amazing on me when I was light brown-haired, but not so much now.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Ellen Page's Warning (My Parasocial Dream-Heartbreak)
Life gets a bit depressing when even my dreams stray into parasocial-relating territory. I'm not talking about dreaming of hanging out with Buffy. I love those dreams. I had a dream about a real person that was so realistic it could have been real, except it wasn't. Does that make sense?
It was a beautiful day, in my dream. I could feel the warm sun on my face, see the blue sky arching over me and the rather impressive buildings that surround my law school. Normally in my dreams places are altered so that even in the dream you kind of know that it's not real. Not this one. Just this once my mind recreated my everyday surroundings immaculately. I had finished my lecture and was whiling away some time in the mall. I ran into my current romantic interest, my THAT person from posts gone by. Lets call them Tayler for shorthand. So Tayler and I met in the mall and the unusual thing about this dream was it in no way went the route of wishful thinking. It was completely realistic to my real interactions with Tayler.
This meant that instead of remarkably quickly declaring undying love for each other, we chatted. We went to a cafe that actually exists in real life and we talked. I felt just like I do when I'm with Tayler in real life. In the end it did go into a little bit of wishful thinking. The conversation turned to relationships and the conversation got a bit flirty and involved some prolonged-eye-contact moments. But it was so believable.
In Inception, Cobb warns Ellen Page's character to never make dream worlds out of places you actually know, because you might not be able to tell what's real anymore. He was very, very right.
When I woke up, it didn't feel like: "That was a nice dream but yeah, right, like that's ever going to really happen." It wasn't even: "Wow, how realistic was that."
It was massive happiness for a short-but-definetely-awake period, that my dreams had come true. And then this odd feeling that something didn't feel right, that I hadn't even been in the city yesterday. 'When was that again?' I thought. 'It couldn't have been a dream. It wasn't...oh my god it was a dream.' It was like a kick in the stomach. I had to remember that Tayler is seeing someone and that it is highly improbable that my feelings will ever be returned.
So in the end it was just hyper-wish-fulfillment. I guess I want this so badly I couldn't even dream it in any way that would seem like it couldn't happen.
Or maybe I was being Incepted. Maybe Leonardo Dicaprio and Ellen Page put electrodes on my head and while my dream self was flirting over coffee with Tayler they implanted an idea so deep in my mind that right now it is growing, shaping my future, and I don't even know that I didn't think of it.
I prefer the second explanation. At least it involves Ellen Page. Who doesn't love Ellen Page?
It was a beautiful day, in my dream. I could feel the warm sun on my face, see the blue sky arching over me and the rather impressive buildings that surround my law school. Normally in my dreams places are altered so that even in the dream you kind of know that it's not real. Not this one. Just this once my mind recreated my everyday surroundings immaculately. I had finished my lecture and was whiling away some time in the mall. I ran into my current romantic interest, my THAT person from posts gone by. Lets call them Tayler for shorthand. So Tayler and I met in the mall and the unusual thing about this dream was it in no way went the route of wishful thinking. It was completely realistic to my real interactions with Tayler.
This meant that instead of remarkably quickly declaring undying love for each other, we chatted. We went to a cafe that actually exists in real life and we talked. I felt just like I do when I'm with Tayler in real life. In the end it did go into a little bit of wishful thinking. The conversation turned to relationships and the conversation got a bit flirty and involved some prolonged-eye-contact moments. But it was so believable.
In Inception, Cobb warns Ellen Page's character to never make dream worlds out of places you actually know, because you might not be able to tell what's real anymore. He was very, very right.
When I woke up, it didn't feel like: "That was a nice dream but yeah, right, like that's ever going to really happen." It wasn't even: "Wow, how realistic was that."
It was massive happiness for a short-but-definetely-awake period, that my dreams had come true. And then this odd feeling that something didn't feel right, that I hadn't even been in the city yesterday. 'When was that again?' I thought. 'It couldn't have been a dream. It wasn't...oh my god it was a dream.' It was like a kick in the stomach. I had to remember that Tayler is seeing someone and that it is highly improbable that my feelings will ever be returned.
So in the end it was just hyper-wish-fulfillment. I guess I want this so badly I couldn't even dream it in any way that would seem like it couldn't happen.
Or maybe I was being Incepted. Maybe Leonardo Dicaprio and Ellen Page put electrodes on my head and while my dream self was flirting over coffee with Tayler they implanted an idea so deep in my mind that right now it is growing, shaping my future, and I don't even know that I didn't think of it.
I prefer the second explanation. At least it involves Ellen Page. Who doesn't love Ellen Page?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Case Study: High School Crushes
Okay, here's the big question. I want to know why in all hell I fall for the people I do. What is the connection, what is the appeal? So here it is: a profile of the major people I've had romantic feelings for, organised by which Year level I was in. Let's case study and try to work out the whys of it.
Primary School (Year 4-7): Good at everything. Very popular. Self-assured and kind of mean. Truly delightful when not trying to impress friends. Brunette. Atheist. Undisputedly good-looking
Year 9: Total drop-kick. No ambition or concentration. Little intelligence. Not very good looking either. Looked a little like a toad. Very mildly bad-boy. Told very bad jokes and was in general a distracting person. Atheist. Sandy Brown hair.
Year 10: Christian. Particularly into marriage. Moody, serious. Not big on communication. Very good dresser. Glasses. Blonde. Very sweet, very gentlemanly but with potential for great tactlessness.
Year 11: Incredibly Smart. Nerdy. Glasses. Brunette. Heavy thinker. Not incredibly perceptive but really, really kind. Christian.
Year 12: Sandy Blonde. Funny, great sense of humour. Very committed Christian. Amazing singing voice, calming presence. Sweet but VERY stubborn. Glasses.
Currently: Atheist. Blonde. European descent (read: REALLY good-looking). Fearless, friendly, sexy. Juvenile and kind of a people-pleaser.
The only pattern so far is there were more blondes. Great. I have a blonde fetish. Not helpful because I already knew that. I'll have to think deeper.
I notice that, apart from year 9, they all have really big, bold personalities. And, this time excepting Year 12 all were very sure of themselves to cover up for deep insecurities. So maybe I have a 'saving-people thing' like Harry Potter. Of course deep insecurities covers pretty much anyone in High School so there's not much of an insight there. There is an even spread between Atheists and Christians, so apparently religion neither attracts nor repels me particularly.
There were three with glasses, but again this is no new insight for me. I know I have a bit of a thing for nerds and for glasses.
So, purely on the data at hand, it seems my ideal mate:
Romantic attraction is still a mystery, even after this highly scientific case study. Well that was a waste of time. Ah well. I finished exams today, it's not like I have anything else I need to do. A whole month totally free now! I celebrated by making wands.
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Primary School (Year 4-7): Good at everything. Very popular. Self-assured and kind of mean. Truly delightful when not trying to impress friends. Brunette. Atheist. Undisputedly good-looking
Year 9: Total drop-kick. No ambition or concentration. Little intelligence. Not very good looking either. Looked a little like a toad. Very mildly bad-boy. Told very bad jokes and was in general a distracting person. Atheist. Sandy Brown hair.
Year 10: Christian. Particularly into marriage. Moody, serious. Not big on communication. Very good dresser. Glasses. Blonde. Very sweet, very gentlemanly but with potential for great tactlessness.
Year 11: Incredibly Smart. Nerdy. Glasses. Brunette. Heavy thinker. Not incredibly perceptive but really, really kind. Christian.
Year 12: Sandy Blonde. Funny, great sense of humour. Very committed Christian. Amazing singing voice, calming presence. Sweet but VERY stubborn. Glasses.
Currently: Atheist. Blonde. European descent (read: REALLY good-looking). Fearless, friendly, sexy. Juvenile and kind of a people-pleaser.
The only pattern so far is there were more blondes. Great. I have a blonde fetish. Not helpful because I already knew that. I'll have to think deeper.
I notice that, apart from year 9, they all have really big, bold personalities. And, this time excepting Year 12 all were very sure of themselves to cover up for deep insecurities. So maybe I have a 'saving-people thing' like Harry Potter. Of course deep insecurities covers pretty much anyone in High School so there's not much of an insight there. There is an even spread between Atheists and Christians, so apparently religion neither attracts nor repels me particularly.
There were three with glasses, but again this is no new insight for me. I know I have a bit of a thing for nerds and for glasses.
So, purely on the data at hand, it seems my ideal mate:
- Is a blonde
- Is a bit nerdy
- Is Either Atheist or Christian.
- Is very open and has a bold personality
- Has some serious insecurities.
- Wears glasses
Romantic attraction is still a mystery, even after this highly scientific case study. Well that was a waste of time. Ah well. I finished exams today, it's not like I have anything else I need to do. A whole month totally free now! I celebrated by making wands.
My Polygamist sims family has four children now, all toddler or baby, with another one on the way. It has been helpful having three parents with that many children. I'll have to post about them soon, because quite frankly they are one of my best ever Sims families.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Parasocial relating v Real experiences: Round Two
Just a follow up from my last post: I got over it. It wasn't easy, but I did. So now I just feel normal again and I prefer it.
Thinking back to a post I posted in February (here), I think this is another point on the side of parasocial relating in the parasocial relating v real experiences debate. I would much rather have a hopeless crush on a make-believe character then a real person. I never expect to actually be with a make-believe person, so it doesn't hurt when I can't. You can also switch off feelings for characters much more easily. Less mess, less fuss, more ability to forget about it and do homework for an hour.
Three weeks until my first Law School Exams. Yay. Five weeks until the last Harry Potter movie. Yay!
Thinking back to a post I posted in February (here), I think this is another point on the side of parasocial relating in the parasocial relating v real experiences debate. I would much rather have a hopeless crush on a make-believe character then a real person. I never expect to actually be with a make-believe person, so it doesn't hurt when I can't. You can also switch off feelings for characters much more easily. Less mess, less fuss, more ability to forget about it and do homework for an hour.
Three weeks until my first Law School Exams. Yay. Five weeks until the last Harry Potter movie. Yay!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Willow Rosenberg's Plea
I want to expand on the issue mentioned at the end of my post about Facebook stalking. Because it is making me crazy.
In the Buffy episode 'The Body', Willow queries "Why can't I just dress like a grown-up? Can't I be a grown-up?" This resonates with me today. Not the dressing part, my wardrobe has few issues. But in terms of acting like a grown-up, I'm all at sea. Suddenly I'm supposed to be an adult and it occurred to me that it's not something that just comes naturally once you turn eighteen. Nobody mentioned that. I just thought that I'd be good at it once I was one, but this is not the case.
Today I feel like my fifteen year old self, all giddy and excited over a new THAT person. I haven't had a regular heartbeat all day. I feel breathless and excited and heady. I don't know why I'm so surprised I feel like this, but I really did think that it would be an exclusively High School feeling. In hindsight, this was a silly presumption. If one can be pathetic at seventeen, one can be pathetic at eighteen. And yet it's come as a surprise.
I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not a silly young girl anymore to stop myself sinking into silly teenage habits. Like Mr. Darcy in the BBC adaption I'm saying: "I shall conquer this! I shall!"
It's just that I can't will my heart to resume a regular beating pattern, that one just comes naturally. And I can't make my brain stop swimming in hormones. So how does one conquer this? It's just as irrepressible as when I was fifteen, except then everyone felt it and talked about it constantly, and now it's just me saying firmly "get over it right now, Belle!"
Can't I just be a grown-up?
In the Buffy episode 'The Body', Willow queries "Why can't I just dress like a grown-up? Can't I be a grown-up?" This resonates with me today. Not the dressing part, my wardrobe has few issues. But in terms of acting like a grown-up, I'm all at sea. Suddenly I'm supposed to be an adult and it occurred to me that it's not something that just comes naturally once you turn eighteen. Nobody mentioned that. I just thought that I'd be good at it once I was one, but this is not the case.
Today I feel like my fifteen year old self, all giddy and excited over a new THAT person. I haven't had a regular heartbeat all day. I feel breathless and excited and heady. I don't know why I'm so surprised I feel like this, but I really did think that it would be an exclusively High School feeling. In hindsight, this was a silly presumption. If one can be pathetic at seventeen, one can be pathetic at eighteen. And yet it's come as a surprise.
I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not a silly young girl anymore to stop myself sinking into silly teenage habits. Like Mr. Darcy in the BBC adaption I'm saying: "I shall conquer this! I shall!"
It's just that I can't will my heart to resume a regular beating pattern, that one just comes naturally. And I can't make my brain stop swimming in hormones. So how does one conquer this? It's just as irrepressible as when I was fifteen, except then everyone felt it and talked about it constantly, and now it's just me saying firmly "get over it right now, Belle!"
Can't I just be a grown-up?
The Ins and Outs of Facebook Stalking
I have been working on a post concerning how awesome Chloe Sullivan from Smallville is, but as I love her with a dedication that is disturbing to those unused to parasocial relating, I haven't been able to write something that both adequately conveys how important she is to me and doesn't sound like I'm a really, really disturbed person.
So while the perfect ode to Chloe eludes me, I can still say a word or two about Facebook stalking. Because I'm guilty of it. ALOT.
I've actually only had Facebook for a few months. But I've discovered that stalking people on Facebook is very close to parasocial relating. Just for clarity, my definition of Facebook stalking is checking their Wall regularly as opposed to intermittently and exploring their photo albums quite throughly.
People put their lives on their facebook pages. By looking at their pictures you can be dropped into the middle of a party, wedding or ordinary day of their life. I don't know about anyone else, but for me it's actually a little creepy when I pull back and think about it. I have access to the lives of people I would otherewise only see one side of. In the Social Network, the Sean Parker says "We lived on farms, then we lived in cities, and now we're going to live on the internet!" And by golly that was correct. I can find out quite a lot about someone without even asking. It's not a bad thing, but it is a jolt in one's way of life. No one needs to ask me what kind of music I like because they can just look on my Facebook page.
Whatever happened to talking? I sound like a Grandma, but that doesn't invalidate my point. I will meet someone in a lecture or the like, and we get along, so they look me up on Facebook. And I check their page once we're Facebook-friends. I can learn about them before I even see them again. I am, in affect, relating parasocially with the version of themselves they put on Facebook.
So that's what I've been thinking about lately. I'm not giving up Facebook though, it's far too useful. In other news I have gotten stuck in the can't-stop-thinking-about-them stage of liking someone and it's really annoying me. I let myself do this kind of thing in High School because it's the National Pastime of High School but now I am an adult and I should not have to deal with this!!! My patheticness knows no bounds but that's not news to me. If anyone ever comes up with a cure for hopeless romanticism they're going to be a BILLIONAIRE.
So while the perfect ode to Chloe eludes me, I can still say a word or two about Facebook stalking. Because I'm guilty of it. ALOT.
I've actually only had Facebook for a few months. But I've discovered that stalking people on Facebook is very close to parasocial relating. Just for clarity, my definition of Facebook stalking is checking their Wall regularly as opposed to intermittently and exploring their photo albums quite throughly.
People put their lives on their facebook pages. By looking at their pictures you can be dropped into the middle of a party, wedding or ordinary day of their life. I don't know about anyone else, but for me it's actually a little creepy when I pull back and think about it. I have access to the lives of people I would otherewise only see one side of. In the Social Network, the Sean Parker says "We lived on farms, then we lived in cities, and now we're going to live on the internet!" And by golly that was correct. I can find out quite a lot about someone without even asking. It's not a bad thing, but it is a jolt in one's way of life. No one needs to ask me what kind of music I like because they can just look on my Facebook page.
Whatever happened to talking? I sound like a Grandma, but that doesn't invalidate my point. I will meet someone in a lecture or the like, and we get along, so they look me up on Facebook. And I check their page once we're Facebook-friends. I can learn about them before I even see them again. I am, in affect, relating parasocially with the version of themselves they put on Facebook.
So that's what I've been thinking about lately. I'm not giving up Facebook though, it's far too useful. In other news I have gotten stuck in the can't-stop-thinking-about-them stage of liking someone and it's really annoying me. I let myself do this kind of thing in High School because it's the National Pastime of High School but now I am an adult and I should not have to deal with this!!! My patheticness knows no bounds but that's not news to me. If anyone ever comes up with a cure for hopeless romanticism they're going to be a BILLIONAIRE.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Polygamy: Sims Style!
I watch Sister Wives, that show about the Fundamentalist Mormon man with four wives and sixteen children. I absolutely love it, I think the women are smart, sassy and fun and the kids are adorable. I think anyone would be lucky to have just one of those women, and he's got all of them. Luckiest guy on the planet! Of course, at times I felt desperately sorry for them. Watching the ups and downs of the Sister Wives really made me think about:
a) Whether polygamy is really the moral and social evil that people think. I know it often has an ugly side but done right, as the Browns do it, it doesn't look so bad when everyone's consenting.
b) What would polygamy really be like/feel like/look like?
But, I've discovered, not as fun as polygamy. I'd like you to meet my little virtual people.
I could go on for days about my sims, and there will be more instalments about this family, but for now I'll jump straight to: What My Sims Taught Me About Polygamy (some of these are no-brainers but they were reinforced by my Sims)
a) Whether polygamy is really the moral and social evil that people think. I know it often has an ugly side but done right, as the Browns do it, it doesn't look so bad when everyone's consenting.
b) What would polygamy really be like/feel like/look like?
So what does someone like me do in this situation? Why play it out on the Sims 3, naturally, Watson! In my Legacy family (family in which you try to reach 10 generations) I have my very first Polygamist family. Just four generations after I had my first same-sex couple on Sims, which was heaps of fun.
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| This is Esther De Le Morte, Fourth Generation Heir |
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| This is her marrying Edgar Jawa |
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| And THIS is her marrying Tucker Granger at the Courthouse |
How did I get one sim woman to marry two sim men? Surely the game doesn't allow that? It doesn't, and I didn't. Tucker and Esther, that was a legal, bona fide sims wedding. Edgar and Esther just threw a party, held hands and kissed and then I put wedding rings with all their outfits. But if you think about it, that's exactly what polygamists do anyway. Only one wife is legally married to the guy and the rest consider themselves married on their terms. Certificate aside, for all intents and purposes, they are married. And such it is with Tucker, Edgar and Esther. They think they both married her, I think they both married her and none of us care much that the game thinks Edgar is merely a 'romantic interest.'
I bought each of them the 'no jealousy' lifetime reward so that one Hubby can walk in on Esther making out with the other and not bat an eyelid. Then I let the mayhem begin.
They live in a symmetrical house, built around a central courtyard/graveyard. Each husband has his own lounge, dining, bed and bathroom. At the front is Esther's personal space for painting, reading, dressing etc. She has no bed as she switches between her husbands' beds. At the back is a large shared kitchen. The top story has bedrooms for all of the eventual children.
1)That the discrimination must be really hurtful and frustrating. Rumours float around my sims town ad nauseum that "Esther De Le Morte has been found cheating!" She spends half her time at the courthouse suing for slander. It makes them all very unhappy, because she isn't cheating. It must be frustrating to have people labelling your relationship something it isn't.
2) That it can be difficult to tell which husbands' the father of your latest baby. This would only be a problem for polyandry (one woman, multiple men)
3)That your two husbands can be BFFs
4) That it's really nice to go out to dinner with one husband and know that the other is home taking care of your babies.
5)That it's not so nice when your wife forgets that she slept in the other husband's bed last night and she misses your night.
So there you have it. Non-traditional family model exploration is a hoot and a half. To sims players out there, I thoroughly recommend you try a polygamist family. Don't believe me? Look how chuffed they all look!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Princess Belle, Attorney-at-Law
I haven't even mentioned the Royal Wedding on my Blog yet. How lax! How sad!
Naturally I watched it. I watched it for nearly seven hours. I'm in general a republican (not in an American politics way, I just favour the Republic model over Monarchy) but in the case of weddings, and I'm guessing Coronations, I don't care. Those Royals can put on a show! I LOVE weddings. I'm barely old enough to get married and I already read wedding blogs religiously and have a folder full of wedding pictures on my desktop that I sometimes watch as montage while listening to the Glee version of 'Marry You.'
Anyway, this is what I thought about during the wedding: Would I really want to be a Princess? My initial reaction was "Well, yeah! Why the hell wouldn't you?"
But as I watched Kate Middleton's wedding, it struck me as kind of over-churchy. I'm all for traditional services if that's what the couple wants, but this one was just extra-impersonal. So out-of-touch with showing who the couple is and how their love grew. If I was Kate Middleton at that moment, I would be thinking: "Jeez! We've prayed three times now! Can't we mention me already?"
In a word: it was Royal. In a sense it did reflect the couple because they are a Royal couple and no matter what, that's really all they'll ever be defined as. I'm not feeling sorry for them, but I can see that being only 'Princess' and all the hoopla and public engagement that go with it isn't for everyone. I realised as I watched that I wouldn't want the 'me' me to melt away under public scrutiny and court protocol. I love the 'me' me. I can do whatever I want as a career and be who I want in the meantime. But if I was a Princess, to a certain extent, 'Princess' would be my job, my identity, my everything.
So maybe my childhood dreams of marrying a Prince really have gone. I remember the message of one of my favourite children's books, A Little Princess. Every girl is a Princess inside, you can be a Princess if you believe it and act like one, no matter how much money you have or if you have a crown or kingdom or anything. I'm not explaining this very well, just read the book, it's by Francis Hodgson Burnett.
So, bottom line. I don't want to be a Princess. I'm going to get a Law Degree, and get my licence to practice law, and I'm going to always believe that I AM a Princess inside, just like Sara in A Little Princess.
I'll be Princess Belle, Attorney-at-Law.
Which has a rather nice ring, don't you think?
Picture originally created by John Pannell, used with a Creative Commons license
Beautiful, wasn't it?
Naturally I watched it. I watched it for nearly seven hours. I'm in general a republican (not in an American politics way, I just favour the Republic model over Monarchy) but in the case of weddings, and I'm guessing Coronations, I don't care. Those Royals can put on a show! I LOVE weddings. I'm barely old enough to get married and I already read wedding blogs religiously and have a folder full of wedding pictures on my desktop that I sometimes watch as montage while listening to the Glee version of 'Marry You.'
Anyway, this is what I thought about during the wedding: Would I really want to be a Princess? My initial reaction was "Well, yeah! Why the hell wouldn't you?"
But as I watched Kate Middleton's wedding, it struck me as kind of over-churchy. I'm all for traditional services if that's what the couple wants, but this one was just extra-impersonal. So out-of-touch with showing who the couple is and how their love grew. If I was Kate Middleton at that moment, I would be thinking: "Jeez! We've prayed three times now! Can't we mention me already?"
In a word: it was Royal. In a sense it did reflect the couple because they are a Royal couple and no matter what, that's really all they'll ever be defined as. I'm not feeling sorry for them, but I can see that being only 'Princess' and all the hoopla and public engagement that go with it isn't for everyone. I realised as I watched that I wouldn't want the 'me' me to melt away under public scrutiny and court protocol. I love the 'me' me. I can do whatever I want as a career and be who I want in the meantime. But if I was a Princess, to a certain extent, 'Princess' would be my job, my identity, my everything.
So maybe my childhood dreams of marrying a Prince really have gone. I remember the message of one of my favourite children's books, A Little Princess. Every girl is a Princess inside, you can be a Princess if you believe it and act like one, no matter how much money you have or if you have a crown or kingdom or anything. I'm not explaining this very well, just read the book, it's by Francis Hodgson Burnett.
So, bottom line. I don't want to be a Princess. I'm going to get a Law Degree, and get my licence to practice law, and I'm going to always believe that I AM a Princess inside, just like Sara in A Little Princess.
I'll be Princess Belle, Attorney-at-Law.
Which has a rather nice ring, don't you think?
Picture originally created by John Pannell, used with a Creative Commons license
Friday, May 6, 2011
Hate, Exes and My Uni Bestie.
On Tuesday night me and my Uni Bestie (not to be confused with my Best Friend, they're two different people...I really must give all these people Blog names) went to the bus stop together and there under the glow of a streetlamp was my Ex-boyfriend.
My Uni Bestie knew me in High School, but not very well, so she'd never seen me interacting with him. Under the streetlamp, he and I bantered a bit while she looked on. I was kind of mean to him, calling him a nerd etc. etc. but he took it all in his stride as usual and teased me back. It was a typical conversation for us.
When he got on his bus, my Uni Bestie turned to me and said:
"Belle, don't get angry, but seriously; you guys will be back together in five years or so."
"What?! Why?" I said, genuinely perplexed since we'd just teased and insulted each other. I ran that thought by her.
"That's why you'll work," She said, "I reckon you have to be able to hate someone to properly love them."
Which was a very interesting thought. At first I wasn't sure what she was getting at and I didn't think that her me-getting-back-with-my-ex theory had alot to it. But the next day I thought about it in terms of power and control. Maybe not hate, but you have to be able to be angry at someone if you're going to have a functioning relationship.
I thought about another failed relationship I'd had where I simply couldn't admit the other parties guilt. EVER. I couldn't be mad at him, I always blamed myself. No power, no control, no self respect. You have to be able to feel angry at someone and to tell them, otherwise you're powerless in love. And that's not healthy. So maybe my Uni Bestie in her own special blunt way, came across this thought. It wasn't a new thought in the scheme of the world by a long chalk. But it was new for us, being young and having our heads in gossip magazines.
In other news, my Hogwarts Robe and Tie have arrived. They're perfectly wonderful! And I have recommenced watching Smallville after about seven months. So I'll probably be blogging about that too now, as Chloe Sullivan is one of my greatest and most dedicated parasocial relationships. She is the most awesome hacking-sneaking-Watchtowering blonde chick the DC-verse has ever seen and I have worshipped her since I first saw my very first episode of Smallville. Not to put in spoilers, but that thing she does at the end of the Season 10 premiere episode? I wept. No, seriously. Wept.
My Uni Bestie knew me in High School, but not very well, so she'd never seen me interacting with him. Under the streetlamp, he and I bantered a bit while she looked on. I was kind of mean to him, calling him a nerd etc. etc. but he took it all in his stride as usual and teased me back. It was a typical conversation for us.
When he got on his bus, my Uni Bestie turned to me and said:
"Belle, don't get angry, but seriously; you guys will be back together in five years or so."
"What?! Why?" I said, genuinely perplexed since we'd just teased and insulted each other. I ran that thought by her.
"That's why you'll work," She said, "I reckon you have to be able to hate someone to properly love them."
Which was a very interesting thought. At first I wasn't sure what she was getting at and I didn't think that her me-getting-back-with-my-ex theory had alot to it. But the next day I thought about it in terms of power and control. Maybe not hate, but you have to be able to be angry at someone if you're going to have a functioning relationship.
I thought about another failed relationship I'd had where I simply couldn't admit the other parties guilt. EVER. I couldn't be mad at him, I always blamed myself. No power, no control, no self respect. You have to be able to feel angry at someone and to tell them, otherwise you're powerless in love. And that's not healthy. So maybe my Uni Bestie in her own special blunt way, came across this thought. It wasn't a new thought in the scheme of the world by a long chalk. But it was new for us, being young and having our heads in gossip magazines.
In other news, my Hogwarts Robe and Tie have arrived. They're perfectly wonderful! And I have recommenced watching Smallville after about seven months. So I'll probably be blogging about that too now, as Chloe Sullivan is one of my greatest and most dedicated parasocial relationships. She is the most awesome hacking-sneaking-Watchtowering blonde chick the DC-verse has ever seen and I have worshipped her since I first saw my very first episode of Smallville. Not to put in spoilers, but that thing she does at the end of the Season 10 premiere episode? I wept. No, seriously. Wept.
Friday, April 22, 2011
To J. K Rowling, From Everyone.
I have had several arguments lately concerning whether or not Harry Potter can be seen as a gateway to Satanism. It REALLY annoys me when people say it is. Ooooh! Witchcraft in a book with childish fairytale elements like wands and broomsticks and making potions from slugs. That sure sounds mightily similar to some neopagan religions. There was even that bit in Harry Potter where they danced naked around a pentagram....oh wait. NO THERE WASN'T.
That, FYI, was sarcasm.
Also I think that it is a HUGE jump to go from Wiccan/Neopagan religions to outright satanism. These religions really don't have anything to do with the Christian idea of Satan. That's a whole other rant of mine. But my arguees thought that witchcraft and satanism were synonomous so that's why I'm discussing it in terms of those religions.
I put it to to whole world (or at least any bored surfers who stumble upon my blog): Harry Potter is fairytale style magic. Like Lord of the Rings, The Wizard of Oz, Narnia Series, Cinderella etc etc. You want magic that even closely resembles any real-life wiccan/neopagan religion, then read Witches of Eileanan or watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Ah...but it's the values behind the magic in Harry Potter that's so dangerous, the Haters say to me. It's the way they use magic.
Really? A young boy fighting a fight he didn't ask to be in, just because it's right. A brainy girl working not for her own glory but for the good of the people she loves. An adorable redhead kid who at the end of the day just wanted to use magic to get a yellow rat. Are these bad uses of magic? And throw in the messages of tolerance, inclusion, belonging, anti-slavery, bravery, sacrifice, kids with glasses being cool and LOVE as the greatest weapon and you've got a morality bomb. As it it will bomb the world with good, strong values. Actually a bomb really isn't the best metaphor here, but you get my meaning.
The people I argued with tried to tell me that I'd missed the point, that you can bring across all these values without presenting dangerous ideas of magic. And I argued back strongly with examples from the books (which they admitted they haven't read) and they just kept knocking me back and vice versa and I don't care at the end of the day. Well, I care enough to blog about it but I just like the sound of my own voice mostly.
I don't care because no one has written a non-magic contemporary book that has affected the world so deeply and has such good messages as Harry Potter. I'm don't disagree that they could, but my point is no one has. J.K Rowling has done that through her unique, wonderful, magical world. She took the world by storm and a lot of lives are better for it. I know mine is.
So the HP Haters can go on squawking from their pulpits about how it will lead children to Satanism while I go out and watch what's really happening: kids, teens and beyond coming together and connecting with each other over the last movie this July. Having imaginative fun without drugs or alcohol which I think we can all agree are more widespread health problems than satanism anyway. People will be dressing up, getting excited and just a for tiny moment, they might even believe in magic again, just like when we were kids and we were waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. I don't kow about you, but I think it's marvellous that Harry Potter can make one feel like that again. I think that's a remarkable gift to the world.
So Thankyou, J. K Rowling. You made my childhood really special. You helped me find my Best Friend. And your world can still make me believe in magic. Thankyou.
That, FYI, was sarcasm.
Also I think that it is a HUGE jump to go from Wiccan/Neopagan religions to outright satanism. These religions really don't have anything to do with the Christian idea of Satan. That's a whole other rant of mine. But my arguees thought that witchcraft and satanism were synonomous so that's why I'm discussing it in terms of those religions.
I put it to to whole world (or at least any bored surfers who stumble upon my blog): Harry Potter is fairytale style magic. Like Lord of the Rings, The Wizard of Oz, Narnia Series, Cinderella etc etc. You want magic that even closely resembles any real-life wiccan/neopagan religion, then read Witches of Eileanan or watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Ah...but it's the values behind the magic in Harry Potter that's so dangerous, the Haters say to me. It's the way they use magic.
Really? A young boy fighting a fight he didn't ask to be in, just because it's right. A brainy girl working not for her own glory but for the good of the people she loves. An adorable redhead kid who at the end of the day just wanted to use magic to get a yellow rat. Are these bad uses of magic? And throw in the messages of tolerance, inclusion, belonging, anti-slavery, bravery, sacrifice, kids with glasses being cool and LOVE as the greatest weapon and you've got a morality bomb. As it it will bomb the world with good, strong values. Actually a bomb really isn't the best metaphor here, but you get my meaning.
The people I argued with tried to tell me that I'd missed the point, that you can bring across all these values without presenting dangerous ideas of magic. And I argued back strongly with examples from the books (which they admitted they haven't read) and they just kept knocking me back and vice versa and I don't care at the end of the day. Well, I care enough to blog about it but I just like the sound of my own voice mostly.
I don't care because no one has written a non-magic contemporary book that has affected the world so deeply and has such good messages as Harry Potter. I'm don't disagree that they could, but my point is no one has. J.K Rowling has done that through her unique, wonderful, magical world. She took the world by storm and a lot of lives are better for it. I know mine is.
So the HP Haters can go on squawking from their pulpits about how it will lead children to Satanism while I go out and watch what's really happening: kids, teens and beyond coming together and connecting with each other over the last movie this July. Having imaginative fun without drugs or alcohol which I think we can all agree are more widespread health problems than satanism anyway. People will be dressing up, getting excited and just a for tiny moment, they might even believe in magic again, just like when we were kids and we were waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. I don't kow about you, but I think it's marvellous that Harry Potter can make one feel like that again. I think that's a remarkable gift to the world.
So Thankyou, J. K Rowling. You made my childhood really special. You helped me find my Best Friend. And your world can still make me believe in magic. Thankyou.
Monday, April 18, 2011
What is 'A Life' and how did I get one?
Finally, after years of searching. After grasping in the dark and coming out with nothing. After a long and nerdy High School I finally feel as though I may have acquired what I was once pleaded with to get.
Namely: A Life.
That's right folks, I've gotten a life. Might be temporary, I'm not sure. It's basically because of the unnatural amount of eighteenth birthday parties lately. But I have been out Friday night, Saturday night and now again tonight. And I've been invited to another party in a few weeks.
Tonight I am pondering the ramifications of having an actual life. The having of a life is fairly subjective, though, as I still spent Saturday ordering Harry Potter costumes and today cleaning my Dolls House. But in spite of my newfound socialiability I don't feel any different. It's just a subtle change beneath the surface, a new knowledge that I have a life rather than not. I do feel tireder. Especially after Saturday night which was the wildest party I've ever been to and anyone who was there would acknowledge that as an indicator of just how sheltered and life-less I've been in the past.
So I'm not sure why everyone was so keen for me to get a life all through High School. I'm still annoying and nerdy, they are just exposed to it more now. Heh. What a revelation. Getting a life really does benefit me first and foremost. Because although I can't pinpoint the difference exactly, I think I could really get to like this having a life thing.
Honestly though, if I had to choose between having a life and having the gorgeous Gryffindor robe that will shortly be coming my way, I'd take the robe every time. So I haven't changed that much.
Namely: A Life.
That's right folks, I've gotten a life. Might be temporary, I'm not sure. It's basically because of the unnatural amount of eighteenth birthday parties lately. But I have been out Friday night, Saturday night and now again tonight. And I've been invited to another party in a few weeks.
Tonight I am pondering the ramifications of having an actual life. The having of a life is fairly subjective, though, as I still spent Saturday ordering Harry Potter costumes and today cleaning my Dolls House. But in spite of my newfound socialiability I don't feel any different. It's just a subtle change beneath the surface, a new knowledge that I have a life rather than not. I do feel tireder. Especially after Saturday night which was the wildest party I've ever been to and anyone who was there would acknowledge that as an indicator of just how sheltered and life-less I've been in the past.
So I'm not sure why everyone was so keen for me to get a life all through High School. I'm still annoying and nerdy, they are just exposed to it more now. Heh. What a revelation. Getting a life really does benefit me first and foremost. Because although I can't pinpoint the difference exactly, I think I could really get to like this having a life thing.
Honestly though, if I had to choose between having a life and having the gorgeous Gryffindor robe that will shortly be coming my way, I'd take the robe every time. So I haven't changed that much.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Everyone has a THAT person
That is a dramatic title but bear with me. My bitch for tonight is highly relatable. It's about that person who is so sublimely attractive to you that it won't matter that:
a) You have not much in common
b) The relationship wouldn't work anyway
c) You haven't spoken in ages
d) They don't even like you like that and never will
You'll still turn to a total pile of quivering, non-breathing jelly at the sight of them.
There are people you like that make more sense.
There are people you like that you have a better shot with.
There are people who actually like you!
But nevertheless...THAT person has the greatest effect every time. What's that about?!
Shakespeare wrote that "Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind." I think this is complete bollocks. If I fell in love with the options my common sense suggests I'd be happily dating someone instead of blogging my singleness misery to the oblivion of the internet. My love (read: lust) really doesn't look with the mind. If it did it wouldn't consider the taken people, siblings of friends (BIG no-no), people of a really conflicting religion to mine, people of a non-corresponding sexual orientation....and yet all of these inconvenient roadblocks I have faced because my eyes are in the drivers seat of my affections.
Just FYI, as it's already pretty obvious, I had an encounter with my THAT person today. Lots of hugging, lots of 'miss you', lots of covert omigod-omigod-omigod on my part. And now I just feel restless from it. Doesn't matter that I've spent the two months without seeing them carefully packing my feelings away and moving on, ten minutes in their gorgeous presence and WHAM! totally in love again.
I really sicken myself. But good news: that little facebook crush I did manage to suppress. I knew it had to be boredom.
a) You have not much in common
b) The relationship wouldn't work anyway
c) You haven't spoken in ages
d) They don't even like you like that and never will
You'll still turn to a total pile of quivering, non-breathing jelly at the sight of them.
There are people you like that make more sense.
There are people you like that you have a better shot with.
There are people who actually like you!
But nevertheless...THAT person has the greatest effect every time. What's that about?!
Shakespeare wrote that "Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind." I think this is complete bollocks. If I fell in love with the options my common sense suggests I'd be happily dating someone instead of blogging my singleness misery to the oblivion of the internet. My love (read: lust) really doesn't look with the mind. If it did it wouldn't consider the taken people, siblings of friends (BIG no-no), people of a really conflicting religion to mine, people of a non-corresponding sexual orientation....and yet all of these inconvenient roadblocks I have faced because my eyes are in the drivers seat of my affections.
Just FYI, as it's already pretty obvious, I had an encounter with my THAT person today. Lots of hugging, lots of 'miss you', lots of covert omigod-omigod-omigod on my part. And now I just feel restless from it. Doesn't matter that I've spent the two months without seeing them carefully packing my feelings away and moving on, ten minutes in their gorgeous presence and WHAM! totally in love again.
I really sicken myself. But good news: that little facebook crush I did manage to suppress. I knew it had to be boredom.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Not Doing Homework
No topic. Just me trying not to do my Legal Writing Assignment. And succeeding!
I'm so sick of emotions, frankly. They rule my life and I can't rule them back. People say you can but I don't believe it. I'm sure if I really could turn off feelings I would've figured out how by now, out of desperation. But I can't. They just come out of nowhere and complicate my life. And yet they are life. They make up our lives. What's that about?
At the moment I am stunned by the kind of life I get to lead and who I get to be. I used to be a nerdy little plain thing in a private school uniform with two long plaits and a huge vocabulary. I kept the vocabulary (and it comes in handy at Law School) but otherwise I dress so differently, my hair is different, the type of people I spend my days with is completely different (people at Law School are in general a little pretentious). I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and think:
"What's with the jumped up little high school nerd who thinks she can be a hot law student all of a sudden. What's her problem?"
It's just this thought that niggles at me. "Is this really my life? Do I seriously get to be this person?" It sounds odd because I'm complaining that my life is too good, and that's absurd. I'm aware of this. But yet it just niggles at me.
Of course the old me would've said something like "But that's what you look like, not who you are." And she's right. I am absolutely no different from the be-plaited little nerd. The transplantedness I feel is from missing all the other trappings of High School; my friends, my classrooms, the theatre and trees and teachers. There is zero similarity between last year and this year. No continuity whatsoever and I've never dealt with that before. That's why I feel like a totally different person, trying to fit a life that's not mine.
Wow. How come whenever I have an issue I can mull it for weeks but as soon as I blog it it just becomes clear? Remind me to blog about my Uni Bestie and my complicated and hopeless feelings for misc. person or persons I can't have and don't really want when it comes right down to it.
But mostly I am very happy. I love what I'm learning, the law is awesomely cool. I have made some great friends, most of whom are not single, but that's a whole other post.
And on an ironic note, I have just this very hour developed a little crush on someone. Normal? Hardly. I developed a little crush on someone over facebook! I mean WTF? How does that even happen? I got facebook a week ago and it's already become another outlet for my pathetic romanticness. I sicken myself by how fluttery and excited I feel right now about someone I wouldn't have spared a thought for before they friended me on bloody facebook. I'm sure it'll go away...it doesn't feel serious. And anyways they're taken. Love triumphs over me once again.
I'm so sick of emotions, frankly. They rule my life and I can't rule them back. People say you can but I don't believe it. I'm sure if I really could turn off feelings I would've figured out how by now, out of desperation. But I can't. They just come out of nowhere and complicate my life. And yet they are life. They make up our lives. What's that about?
At the moment I am stunned by the kind of life I get to lead and who I get to be. I used to be a nerdy little plain thing in a private school uniform with two long plaits and a huge vocabulary. I kept the vocabulary (and it comes in handy at Law School) but otherwise I dress so differently, my hair is different, the type of people I spend my days with is completely different (people at Law School are in general a little pretentious). I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and think:
"What's with the jumped up little high school nerd who thinks she can be a hot law student all of a sudden. What's her problem?"
It's just this thought that niggles at me. "Is this really my life? Do I seriously get to be this person?" It sounds odd because I'm complaining that my life is too good, and that's absurd. I'm aware of this. But yet it just niggles at me.
Of course the old me would've said something like "But that's what you look like, not who you are." And she's right. I am absolutely no different from the be-plaited little nerd. The transplantedness I feel is from missing all the other trappings of High School; my friends, my classrooms, the theatre and trees and teachers. There is zero similarity between last year and this year. No continuity whatsoever and I've never dealt with that before. That's why I feel like a totally different person, trying to fit a life that's not mine.
Wow. How come whenever I have an issue I can mull it for weeks but as soon as I blog it it just becomes clear? Remind me to blog about my Uni Bestie and my complicated and hopeless feelings for misc. person or persons I can't have and don't really want when it comes right down to it.
But mostly I am very happy. I love what I'm learning, the law is awesomely cool. I have made some great friends, most of whom are not single, but that's a whole other post.
And on an ironic note, I have just this very hour developed a little crush on someone. Normal? Hardly. I developed a little crush on someone over facebook! I mean WTF? How does that even happen? I got facebook a week ago and it's already become another outlet for my pathetic romanticness. I sicken myself by how fluttery and excited I feel right now about someone I wouldn't have spared a thought for before they friended me on bloody facebook. I'm sure it'll go away...it doesn't feel serious. And anyways they're taken. Love triumphs over me once again.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Love
So I have a question. Why can TV make you believe in love more than love does?
TV love makes my heart warm, my limbs relax and buzz and just generally makes me happy. The hope you get from TV love is real, dammit, no matter how misguided it may be. I just saw the Glee episode with THAT kiss...you know which one I'm talking about. Who'da thought two guys kissing could be so hot and sweet at the same time. It was a perfect moment and guess what? My heart warmed. My limbs buzzed. Etc. Etc.
Contrast this to the feelings that personal romantic disasters bring me. Cringiness, regret, guilt, frustration. And you'd think romantic possibility would feel great, right? Not even close. That comes with awkwardness and helplessness and the feeling of: Why am I even bothering when this will all end in tears?
And then TV love makes you believe in love again. So you try real love again. And it ends in tears. It's a vicious cycle. Do you reckon we'd even bother to try again after our first major break-up if it wasn't for TV? I'm not an expert in romance, I've only ridden that crazy-fast, sickening merry-go-round twice (just FYI, both times ended in....ding ding ding! That's right, folks, it's tears!)
So after that ridiculously convoluted preamble I'm actually going to try and answer one of my questions for once.
I think TV love makes me believe in love more than real life because it's serialized. It's compartmentalized. If you're favourite couple breaks up, you can always watch a previous episode in which they were happy. And just for the time between the opening and closing credits, it's all ok again. It's segregated from the rest of the mess.
Life doesn't work like that at all. You can't separate the messy bits so much. In my mind, the love gets all lumped in with the lies. There's no memory compartment marked "good stuff." As soon a a relationship breaks, it has to have always been broken. If you dwell too much on the good bits then you fall into 'wanting them back.' That works for fictional couples, you can pine all you want and it won't change what the writers did. But you'll always feel that maybe you could have/should have saved the real relationships and that's worse.
So what's the bright side of this? What's the bit that we can learn from TV love and apply to reality to make it a little brighter? Right now, I don't know. I've got nothing. Can't quite find a reason to stay in real life and not just jump into the TV. TV couples don't have to risk anything for love, because it's formulaic. They will get together if they're risking something, because that means that the producers are playing with you for a while before giving you what you want.
So what's so great about real life on this one? Don't know. I'll get to the warm-fuzzy stage of a relationship with some poor idiot and then I'll let you know.
TV love makes my heart warm, my limbs relax and buzz and just generally makes me happy. The hope you get from TV love is real, dammit, no matter how misguided it may be. I just saw the Glee episode with THAT kiss...you know which one I'm talking about. Who'da thought two guys kissing could be so hot and sweet at the same time. It was a perfect moment and guess what? My heart warmed. My limbs buzzed. Etc. Etc.
Contrast this to the feelings that personal romantic disasters bring me. Cringiness, regret, guilt, frustration. And you'd think romantic possibility would feel great, right? Not even close. That comes with awkwardness and helplessness and the feeling of: Why am I even bothering when this will all end in tears?
And then TV love makes you believe in love again. So you try real love again. And it ends in tears. It's a vicious cycle. Do you reckon we'd even bother to try again after our first major break-up if it wasn't for TV? I'm not an expert in romance, I've only ridden that crazy-fast, sickening merry-go-round twice (just FYI, both times ended in....ding ding ding! That's right, folks, it's tears!)
So after that ridiculously convoluted preamble I'm actually going to try and answer one of my questions for once.
I think TV love makes me believe in love more than real life because it's serialized. It's compartmentalized. If you're favourite couple breaks up, you can always watch a previous episode in which they were happy. And just for the time between the opening and closing credits, it's all ok again. It's segregated from the rest of the mess.
Life doesn't work like that at all. You can't separate the messy bits so much. In my mind, the love gets all lumped in with the lies. There's no memory compartment marked "good stuff." As soon a a relationship breaks, it has to have always been broken. If you dwell too much on the good bits then you fall into 'wanting them back.' That works for fictional couples, you can pine all you want and it won't change what the writers did. But you'll always feel that maybe you could have/should have saved the real relationships and that's worse.
So what's the bright side of this? What's the bit that we can learn from TV love and apply to reality to make it a little brighter? Right now, I don't know. I've got nothing. Can't quite find a reason to stay in real life and not just jump into the TV. TV couples don't have to risk anything for love, because it's formulaic. They will get together if they're risking something, because that means that the producers are playing with you for a while before giving you what you want.
So what's so great about real life on this one? Don't know. I'll get to the warm-fuzzy stage of a relationship with some poor idiot and then I'll let you know.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Brittana shook my Glee world
I was left pretty thrown after Glee the other day. Brittany and Santana was NOT a couple I'd seen coming. I knew people shipped them but I thought it was kinda like shipping Hermione/Ginny; fun to think about as a hypothetical but NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.
Brittany and Santana had had sexual encounters that I had no idea about thanks to Australian television networks censoring same-sex kissing. That scene in 'Duets' where they make out and Brittany ends up feeling rejected and it sets her on the course of going out with Artie? Well the Ten Network decided I was too delicate to see that and as a result the whole Brittany/Artie thing never made alot of sense. Thank you very much Ten. I would like to point out that they kept in the scene of Brittany preparing to *word that rhymes with duck* Artie later and practically showed Finn fondling Rachael in 'Grilled Cheesus'. Censorship committees are so homophobic.
But even if I'd known about that incident, I reckon this still would have seemed left field. I read up on it and saw a long list of clues that people had noticed and it yet it still wasn't sitting right with me. Santana went from a very bitchy kind of bully one week, who tried to break up Finn and Rachael, and then suddenly she was the one we should all feel sorry for because she had confusing feelings for Brittany.
So I was like: "Wait, what? Really? Those Brittana shippers weren't crazy?"
And then they talked to Holly Holliday and sang that song together and the answer came that Brittana shippers were actually kind of brilliant. THEY were the Ron/Hermione shippers of the Glee world and I was the Harry/Hermione shipper who missed the Big Damn Anvil.
And yes, that song they sang made me cry. How could it not? Did you see Santana's face, it would've broken your heart. Especially the lines:
Well, I've been afraid of changing
cos I've built my life around you.
So in the end I thought 'meh', and I let that scene convert me. Any couple that can make me cry just by singing and looking at each other deserves my shipping energy. And I never got Artie/Brittany anyways.
On a finale note, that song the Warblers did in Glee was the most ridiculous and over-the-top numbers ever on Glee. I mean, spraying bubbles in a warehouse and dancing around? Seems porn-esque! Where'd they get a huge bubble hose? Where'd they get a warehouse?
Brittany and Santana had had sexual encounters that I had no idea about thanks to Australian television networks censoring same-sex kissing. That scene in 'Duets' where they make out and Brittany ends up feeling rejected and it sets her on the course of going out with Artie? Well the Ten Network decided I was too delicate to see that and as a result the whole Brittany/Artie thing never made alot of sense. Thank you very much Ten. I would like to point out that they kept in the scene of Brittany preparing to *word that rhymes with duck* Artie later and practically showed Finn fondling Rachael in 'Grilled Cheesus'. Censorship committees are so homophobic.
But even if I'd known about that incident, I reckon this still would have seemed left field. I read up on it and saw a long list of clues that people had noticed and it yet it still wasn't sitting right with me. Santana went from a very bitchy kind of bully one week, who tried to break up Finn and Rachael, and then suddenly she was the one we should all feel sorry for because she had confusing feelings for Brittany.
So I was like: "Wait, what? Really? Those Brittana shippers weren't crazy?"
And then they talked to Holly Holliday and sang that song together and the answer came that Brittana shippers were actually kind of brilliant. THEY were the Ron/Hermione shippers of the Glee world and I was the Harry/Hermione shipper who missed the Big Damn Anvil.
And yes, that song they sang made me cry. How could it not? Did you see Santana's face, it would've broken your heart. Especially the lines:
Well, I've been afraid of changing
cos I've built my life around you.
So in the end I thought 'meh', and I let that scene convert me. Any couple that can make me cry just by singing and looking at each other deserves my shipping energy. And I never got Artie/Brittany anyways.
On a finale note, that song the Warblers did in Glee was the most ridiculous and over-the-top numbers ever on Glee. I mean, spraying bubbles in a warehouse and dancing around? Seems porn-esque! Where'd they get a huge bubble hose? Where'd they get a warehouse?
Monday, February 28, 2011
My Ex-Boyfriend
I had a dream last night and woke up feeling horrible about myself. So, I'll blog the feeling away.
I've been at Law School now for a week-ish and I've only seen my Ex once. So I really didn't expect to dream about him. Why the hell would I? We've been exes for much longer than we dated and he has a new girlfriend now.
Last night, my dream self hatched a plan, purely to be a total...well, you know. Whats the google policy on bad language?
I was with my Ex and his new girlfriend in a lecture (and we're not doing the same course in real life) and I decided I'd manipulate him into cheating on her with me. So I began crying and made him believe I wanted him back. He came over that night and I continued the charade until he confessed that he wanted to get back together too. At which point he kissed me and then I told him I'd changed my mind and he should just go home to his girlfriend. Then my dream self kicked him out the door knowing that I'd either ended his relationship or he'd know for the rest of it that he'd cheated on her.
Then my best friend was in a car accident and then I woke up. Not sure if she lived. This is also alarming.
Now, I'm no Mother Theresa. I'm not selfless and I'm not always particularly kind. But I'm NOT cruel and so I woke up feeling simply horrible that I'd ever consider such a thing, even in my subconcious. So I'm going to play the Sims 3 now and get the sims of my ex and his girlfriend to get married. That is the most fitting way I can give them my blessing and hopefully rid my subconscious of whatever is going on in there about them.
This dream description, by the way, was a short paraphrase of what I can remember. I am able to remember alot more of my dreams than other people seem to be able too. It is a blessing if the dream is funny but when it is like this dream it can be very creepy to remember every sentence, movement and touch. Eugh.
I think I should try to find someone of my own at Law School. The last week I have started many, many conversations with "Hi, I'm Belle, What's your name?" And I've met some really great people who I think I'm going to be friends with, but no obvious romantic prospects. Ah well. Generally, I like being single.
I've been at Law School now for a week-ish and I've only seen my Ex once. So I really didn't expect to dream about him. Why the hell would I? We've been exes for much longer than we dated and he has a new girlfriend now.
Last night, my dream self hatched a plan, purely to be a total...well, you know. Whats the google policy on bad language?
I was with my Ex and his new girlfriend in a lecture (and we're not doing the same course in real life) and I decided I'd manipulate him into cheating on her with me. So I began crying and made him believe I wanted him back. He came over that night and I continued the charade until he confessed that he wanted to get back together too. At which point he kissed me and then I told him I'd changed my mind and he should just go home to his girlfriend. Then my dream self kicked him out the door knowing that I'd either ended his relationship or he'd know for the rest of it that he'd cheated on her.
Then my best friend was in a car accident and then I woke up. Not sure if she lived. This is also alarming.
Now, I'm no Mother Theresa. I'm not selfless and I'm not always particularly kind. But I'm NOT cruel and so I woke up feeling simply horrible that I'd ever consider such a thing, even in my subconcious. So I'm going to play the Sims 3 now and get the sims of my ex and his girlfriend to get married. That is the most fitting way I can give them my blessing and hopefully rid my subconscious of whatever is going on in there about them.
This dream description, by the way, was a short paraphrase of what I can remember. I am able to remember alot more of my dreams than other people seem to be able too. It is a blessing if the dream is funny but when it is like this dream it can be very creepy to remember every sentence, movement and touch. Eugh.
I think I should try to find someone of my own at Law School. The last week I have started many, many conversations with "Hi, I'm Belle, What's your name?" And I've met some really great people who I think I'm going to be friends with, but no obvious romantic prospects. Ah well. Generally, I like being single.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Murder on the Orient Express
I have just had one of the most profound television experiences of my life. Watching David Suchet play Poirot in the probing mystery 'Murder on the Orient Express' has literally left me gasping for air in the brilliance of his performance and the harsh questions the story puts forward about justice.
David Suchet's performance was one of the best displays of acting I have ever seen. Ever. And I watch alot of television and movies. The story is so much more than other murder mysteries as after it has revealed 'who done it', it goes onto explore their culpability. Brilliantly. I can hardly describe how I felt watching this all play out on screen. Everyone should watch this.
Tonight has been a shining moment in my parasocial life.
David Suchet's performance was one of the best displays of acting I have ever seen. Ever. And I watch alot of television and movies. The story is so much more than other murder mysteries as after it has revealed 'who done it', it goes onto explore their culpability. Brilliantly. I can hardly describe how I felt watching this all play out on screen. Everyone should watch this.
Tonight has been a shining moment in my parasocial life.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Downward Spiral
Today I continue my descent into no-lifedom. I have only done what the truly lovelorn, lost souls do.
I played World of Warcraft.
I have previously played a bit with my brother however now I have my own character, a level 7 Draenai, and I have truly hit the bottom. However the crazy thing is that WoW is so much fun! I played for two hours this morning and it went by in a heartbeat. I felt kind of guilty about killing those Blood Elves though. That's low even for a big blue horned warrior with a massive sword that I looted from, get this... a crab.
But on the reality side, my best friend called and I caught up on her news. However her life is quite similar to mine and so we ended up giving in to our innate nerdiness and discussed plans for a huge Harry Potter movie marathon to coincide with the final film's release. Beats nightclubbing, in my opinion. But after this call I feel more like a person with a vague social life, so kudos to me!
In two weeks I begin Law School and my life will become more footed in reality. I'm not sure how I'll deal with it. It does not help my outlook that my aforementioned best friend is attending medical school on a totally different campus and I'm stuck on my campus with....my ex-boyfriend. Let joy be unconfined.
I played World of Warcraft.
I have previously played a bit with my brother however now I have my own character, a level 7 Draenai, and I have truly hit the bottom. However the crazy thing is that WoW is so much fun! I played for two hours this morning and it went by in a heartbeat. I felt kind of guilty about killing those Blood Elves though. That's low even for a big blue horned warrior with a massive sword that I looted from, get this... a crab.
But on the reality side, my best friend called and I caught up on her news. However her life is quite similar to mine and so we ended up giving in to our innate nerdiness and discussed plans for a huge Harry Potter movie marathon to coincide with the final film's release. Beats nightclubbing, in my opinion. But after this call I feel more like a person with a vague social life, so kudos to me!
In two weeks I begin Law School and my life will become more footed in reality. I'm not sure how I'll deal with it. It does not help my outlook that my aforementioned best friend is attending medical school on a totally different campus and I'm stuck on my campus with....my ex-boyfriend. Let joy be unconfined.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Heightened experience
Well, I got my answer re: peace or heady feelings conundrum. Well, actually just more evidence. I still haven't decided which is better and probably never will.
Today I saw a bunch of my old school friends and it was amazing! One guy and I were so happy to see one another we had one of those movie-style run and lift hugs. Epic moment of pure, flooding happiness. I've spent so much time in the company of the otherwise-existant that I'd forgotton what a proper hug feels like. So one point for heady experiences and real people. But on the other side, once I'd stopped feeling dancey I started worrying what other people though about our reunion, did I look stupid running, will people think we're an item etc. etc. So that's one for the private parasocial relating.
But onto the Buffy thing. Buffy has always been a bit different to my other non-existant friends. I'm not alone among the Joss Whedon fans in feeling that my love and loyalty to the Slayer and her friends just goes beyond what is normal, even for parasocial relationships. I saw a picspam of Buffy smiling the other week and I had tears in my eyes.
I account this to the fact that Buffy got me through some tough times and I know that other people have used the show for strength and solace also. Buffy is a character of tremendous strength and she is helped to have a flawless cast, writing and direction to support her. Buffy can be your strength when you can't find your own. And this is what seems to set her apart particularly to people.
So I can feel emotion about Buffy (particularly at the end of 'The Gift') to rival any real relationship. But at the end of the day I can never run and be held in her arms like I did with my dear friend today. Maybe it's sensation, not emotion, that makes real life worth the messiness.
Today I saw a bunch of my old school friends and it was amazing! One guy and I were so happy to see one another we had one of those movie-style run and lift hugs. Epic moment of pure, flooding happiness. I've spent so much time in the company of the otherwise-existant that I'd forgotton what a proper hug feels like. So one point for heady experiences and real people. But on the other side, once I'd stopped feeling dancey I started worrying what other people though about our reunion, did I look stupid running, will people think we're an item etc. etc. So that's one for the private parasocial relating.
But onto the Buffy thing. Buffy has always been a bit different to my other non-existant friends. I'm not alone among the Joss Whedon fans in feeling that my love and loyalty to the Slayer and her friends just goes beyond what is normal, even for parasocial relationships. I saw a picspam of Buffy smiling the other week and I had tears in my eyes.
I account this to the fact that Buffy got me through some tough times and I know that other people have used the show for strength and solace also. Buffy is a character of tremendous strength and she is helped to have a flawless cast, writing and direction to support her. Buffy can be your strength when you can't find your own. And this is what seems to set her apart particularly to people.
So I can feel emotion about Buffy (particularly at the end of 'The Gift') to rival any real relationship. But at the end of the day I can never run and be held in her arms like I did with my dear friend today. Maybe it's sensation, not emotion, that makes real life worth the messiness.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Friends
I think I should really call one of my friends and you know...talk to them. But every time I honestly think about it, I get scared. I don't know why. I suspect it is a subconcious fear that one day they just won't want to talk to me anymore.
I haven't deliberately seen or talked to anyone who is not related to me in at least two weeks. This strikes me as bad because I've not been busy. I spend all day decorating my dolls house (I'm a miniaturist. This is a craft, not a religion) and watch TV in the evenings. Scrubs, mostly. I wish the Scrubs characters (JD, Turk, Elliot and Carla) were my best friends. I would totally fit in with them. But I could never be a doctor, unfortunately. I have this faint-at-the-thought-of-blood problem.
So as much as I think I should talk to someone real, I am quite content spending all day with JD and co. What is wrong with me? Why do I break out in a cold sweat at the thought of calling someone. Grrr. This always happens to me.
I also find that a completely parasocial existence (as mine has almost entirely been lately) is a good deal more peaceful that a proper social life HOWEVER by god it's not nearly as heady and exhilerating. Which would you rather? Peace and no problems bigger than wondering in which room to put the georgian skirting, or a boatload more drama but the possibility of heightened experiences. This is, in essence, the crux of the parasocial relationship. The experiences are never as intense.
Except sometimes with Buffy. I'll get onto that next time.
I haven't deliberately seen or talked to anyone who is not related to me in at least two weeks. This strikes me as bad because I've not been busy. I spend all day decorating my dolls house (I'm a miniaturist. This is a craft, not a religion) and watch TV in the evenings. Scrubs, mostly. I wish the Scrubs characters (JD, Turk, Elliot and Carla) were my best friends. I would totally fit in with them. But I could never be a doctor, unfortunately. I have this faint-at-the-thought-of-blood problem.
So as much as I think I should talk to someone real, I am quite content spending all day with JD and co. What is wrong with me? Why do I break out in a cold sweat at the thought of calling someone. Grrr. This always happens to me.
I also find that a completely parasocial existence (as mine has almost entirely been lately) is a good deal more peaceful that a proper social life HOWEVER by god it's not nearly as heady and exhilerating. Which would you rather? Peace and no problems bigger than wondering in which room to put the georgian skirting, or a boatload more drama but the possibility of heightened experiences. This is, in essence, the crux of the parasocial relationship. The experiences are never as intense.
Except sometimes with Buffy. I'll get onto that next time.
Monday, February 7, 2011
My New Blog
So you know when you really like a TV, book or movie character? Or when you are startled to remember that you've never actually met those YouTube vloggers? When your last five significent emotional reactions were because of things that never really happened, to people that don't really exist.
Psychologists call this phenomenon 'parasocial relating'. My family calls it "what Belle does."
I'm about to take my first steps into real life. Moving out of home, starting Law School. So this blog's about me, trying to handle the mess of reality while I'd rather be fighting alongside Buffy in Sunnydale, learning spells in Hogwarts or even dating one of those genuinely attractive vloggers who live about fifteen time zones away. My quick gripe today is about them.
It is SO EASY to forget that they are not your friends, that they are not chatting directly to you, and that you've never been in their living rooms. Their personal style is a nightmare for people who struggle with the blurring of fantasy and reality. And yet every day I'm on youtube, checking what mad thing charlieissocoollike has done now.
A few weeks ago I was lying on a double matress on the floor, watching italktosnakes deliver her review of Deathly Hallows-Part 1 on youtube. She had made her video in bed. While watching it slowly dawned on me that it felt exactly like we were chatting while sleeping over together instead of parasocially relating. I shut the video in horror, freaked out by how vivid the feeling was, and then I called someone real and talked to them until I felt like I had a life again.
I am drowning in the goo of the Glee Christmas episode at present. Even for a dedicated fan, this is too much. Except for Kurt/Blaine singing together. I ship them madly. Incidentally I ship passionately and often and in everything that has more than one character, which is basically everything but Castaway.
Psychologists call this phenomenon 'parasocial relating'. My family calls it "what Belle does."
I'm about to take my first steps into real life. Moving out of home, starting Law School. So this blog's about me, trying to handle the mess of reality while I'd rather be fighting alongside Buffy in Sunnydale, learning spells in Hogwarts or even dating one of those genuinely attractive vloggers who live about fifteen time zones away. My quick gripe today is about them.
It is SO EASY to forget that they are not your friends, that they are not chatting directly to you, and that you've never been in their living rooms. Their personal style is a nightmare for people who struggle with the blurring of fantasy and reality. And yet every day I'm on youtube, checking what mad thing charlieissocoollike has done now.
A few weeks ago I was lying on a double matress on the floor, watching italktosnakes deliver her review of Deathly Hallows-Part 1 on youtube. She had made her video in bed. While watching it slowly dawned on me that it felt exactly like we were chatting while sleeping over together instead of parasocially relating. I shut the video in horror, freaked out by how vivid the feeling was, and then I called someone real and talked to them until I felt like I had a life again.
I am drowning in the goo of the Glee Christmas episode at present. Even for a dedicated fan, this is too much. Except for Kurt/Blaine singing together. I ship them madly. Incidentally I ship passionately and often and in everything that has more than one character, which is basically everything but Castaway.
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