I've always been a little strange. Before I ever had a boyfriend, I used to write about love. I wrote about my crushes and about how I imagined it would feel to care about somebody so much. Once i was in a relationship though, soon after the start, my focus changed. I started to write about losing love. Now, keep in mind this was years before I actually broke up with the person I was with.
I think that even when things are going well, there's a part of me that ruminates on the other side. Regards it with almost a morbid curiosity. It's just something I was thinking about today. I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm still getting a lot of stuff about myself figured out. and I'm kinda slow at it. Some people would say, at twenty six, I should have it all figured out by now. But I don't. Problem is, the guy I've been hanging out with these days definitely does. And the more attached and infatuated he acts towards me, the bigger the sense of dread in my stomach grows.
Part of it is just the leftover of being in a relationship that got really obsessive at the end. It makes me flighty, which is a horrible thing to be. But the other part of it is my inability to turn the rational part of my brain off. My brain KNOWS this isn't going to work out in the long run for..god, so many reasons. And as long as I concentrate on the right now, I can keep that part of my mind from interfering. (Mostly.) Any hint of going beyond the moment though and it suddenly kicks in, like an early warning system to some great forest fire.
This won't turn out well. Our lives are not in the least compatible. And I'll be the bitch that breaks his heart. Again. And maybe I should just take that risk but I've got FRIENDS now. It has been a long time since I met people that I felt like I connected with and could open up to. I'm not so stupid as to not know which way it would go if something crappy happened. and I wouldn't really want to get in the way anyway. So I tell myself I should end this before it gets REALLY bad. But then I never do.
Monday, 30 January 2012
Friday, 20 January 2012
the opposite of sibling rivalry
My brother and I have always got along pretty well. Part of this is because I'm eight years older than him. We've never been in the same school at the same time. Our interests, while often being similar, have diverged enough that we were never fighting over the same material resources, other than one or two huge exceptions. So, instead of having a competitive relationship with my little brother, it has been something more protective.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I'm the person who best knows my brother in all the world. When he was young, I spent lots and lots of time with him, somehow never getting bored with his childish company. I delighted in his mental growth, especially when he grew in ways that were congruent to my own interests. As he grew, I introduced him to my favourite book series, I encouraged him to write recreationally, I shared with him my favourite tv shows. And for the most part, we've grown together really well.
There's only one minor problem. he's better than I am. At almost everything. it's hard enough to have a perfect older brother when you are not yourself perfect. When you are disappointed and dissatisfied with your own life. It is harder still when the brother is younger than you. You can't tell yourself his perfection is something you could grow into because you're older than him. And yes, I know he's not perfect. Put away your platitudes. Sometimes, though, he does feel a little too much so. My brother is the type of person who, it seems, things always come easy to. I was never very good in school. While I loved learning, I never got the grades that would keep my parents happy. From the moment my little brother started school, he excelled. He excelled through elementary and high school and I have no doubt he will excel in university as well. And he's always been better at fitting in socially than I could ever be. I spent most of my childhood and teen years alone and devoid of friends. somehow, even though at heart he is so much like me, my little brother has never had trouble making friends.
I love my little brother. I love that he can play the keyboard (the one which was supposed to be mine but they gave to him instead since he was so much better at it than I) and the guitar and that he taught himself how to play them by ear. I used to make him listen to a song and then figure out how to play it, it was so much fun watching him unravel it. I love giving him books to read or games to play. I encourage him to be the best he can be at everything and, when he does well, his accomplishments warm me as if I had done them myself.
I love him incredibly. I only hate him a little. Mostly I hate myself. because it isn't his fault I'm a mess, just because he's not. It's not his fault that I'm directionless and alone and slightly pathetic. So I don't hate him for it. But it hurts because I wish he could look up to me but i don't feel as if it's something he would ever do.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I'm the person who best knows my brother in all the world. When he was young, I spent lots and lots of time with him, somehow never getting bored with his childish company. I delighted in his mental growth, especially when he grew in ways that were congruent to my own interests. As he grew, I introduced him to my favourite book series, I encouraged him to write recreationally, I shared with him my favourite tv shows. And for the most part, we've grown together really well.
There's only one minor problem. he's better than I am. At almost everything. it's hard enough to have a perfect older brother when you are not yourself perfect. When you are disappointed and dissatisfied with your own life. It is harder still when the brother is younger than you. You can't tell yourself his perfection is something you could grow into because you're older than him. And yes, I know he's not perfect. Put away your platitudes. Sometimes, though, he does feel a little too much so. My brother is the type of person who, it seems, things always come easy to. I was never very good in school. While I loved learning, I never got the grades that would keep my parents happy. From the moment my little brother started school, he excelled. He excelled through elementary and high school and I have no doubt he will excel in university as well. And he's always been better at fitting in socially than I could ever be. I spent most of my childhood and teen years alone and devoid of friends. somehow, even though at heart he is so much like me, my little brother has never had trouble making friends.
I love my little brother. I love that he can play the keyboard (the one which was supposed to be mine but they gave to him instead since he was so much better at it than I) and the guitar and that he taught himself how to play them by ear. I used to make him listen to a song and then figure out how to play it, it was so much fun watching him unravel it. I love giving him books to read or games to play. I encourage him to be the best he can be at everything and, when he does well, his accomplishments warm me as if I had done them myself.
I love him incredibly. I only hate him a little. Mostly I hate myself. because it isn't his fault I'm a mess, just because he's not. It's not his fault that I'm directionless and alone and slightly pathetic. So I don't hate him for it. But it hurts because I wish he could look up to me but i don't feel as if it's something he would ever do.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Another fanfic post...Billy
After the last post of mine, which got into some strange waters, I've had a hard time getting back to writing in here. I thought, however, that perhaps I should update a bit more about my fanfic. Especially the one I'm currently editing.
One of the things you learn as a writer is that you never know your characters quite as well as you think...or perhaps you know them too much. Sometimes you write and they end up being somehow different than the people you'd thought them to be. That's the case with Billy. Billy's really only half my character. He's from the Power Rangers so his personality and traits are largely out of my region to change, they're already set. Yet every PR writer has their own version of Billy, each slightly different from the other. As I have mine.
Mine seems to be much more more sorrowful that I had originally pictured him, someone who has been treated harshly by life in some ways and has not always had the resilience of personality to ride out the waves caused in his life. He has been abandoned and abandoned again, by love, friendship, life. And the strange thing is, I knew it. for the most part, my stories take place entirely within the events of canon, with only one or two that concern him taking place after an event I myself contrived. But it is interesting that, despite knowing his history, I did not understand his sorrow until I started writing him. Maybe not even until now, when I'm editing one of his stories. When I write, I'm so caught up in the characters and what they think and feel, there's often no room for what I feel. So, despite writing the sad story back in november, it's only now when I go back to read and edit it that I find myself with tears in my eyes and sorrow in my heart for this quiet blue ranger who turned out to be in much more pain than I had known before.
This discovery, it's something that maybe only another writer can understand but i hope I'm explaining it somewhat well for the non writers.
One of the things you learn as a writer is that you never know your characters quite as well as you think...or perhaps you know them too much. Sometimes you write and they end up being somehow different than the people you'd thought them to be. That's the case with Billy. Billy's really only half my character. He's from the Power Rangers so his personality and traits are largely out of my region to change, they're already set. Yet every PR writer has their own version of Billy, each slightly different from the other. As I have mine.
Mine seems to be much more more sorrowful that I had originally pictured him, someone who has been treated harshly by life in some ways and has not always had the resilience of personality to ride out the waves caused in his life. He has been abandoned and abandoned again, by love, friendship, life. And the strange thing is, I knew it. for the most part, my stories take place entirely within the events of canon, with only one or two that concern him taking place after an event I myself contrived. But it is interesting that, despite knowing his history, I did not understand his sorrow until I started writing him. Maybe not even until now, when I'm editing one of his stories. When I write, I'm so caught up in the characters and what they think and feel, there's often no room for what I feel. So, despite writing the sad story back in november, it's only now when I go back to read and edit it that I find myself with tears in my eyes and sorrow in my heart for this quiet blue ranger who turned out to be in much more pain than I had known before.
This discovery, it's something that maybe only another writer can understand but i hope I'm explaining it somewhat well for the non writers.
Thursday, 12 January 2012
...strange voices... (NSFW)
My mind wandered down a strange avenue today. It happened, I think, partly because of a fanfic I was reading but partly because it's been tumbling about in the back of my mind for a while. In the story I was reading, the main character is dealing with going through a period in his life where he's trying to figure out if he likes guys or girls or how he feels about his sexuality in general.One of the characters he meets considers herself asexual and that sent my mind going down a strange path.
Life tends to surprise us, whenever we try to figure it out. It seems to lead one way and then ends up somewhere completely different. Two of my best female friends are engaged to each other, a fact I handled learning fairly well considering all the past relationships, all with boys, they had confided to me before. I felt a little betrayed, I think, at the time that such a huge event had happened in their life and neither of them had seen fit to inform me of any of tit. But that's my lot in life I suppose. i'm quiet and undemanding and people tend to forget about me and keeping me in their lives unless I make a huge effort. I try, sometimes, but making that effort day in and day out tires me so I let it fall by the wayside more and more.
One of my friends called me frigid, once. He was trying to be cruel, he's the type that feels like he needs to be cruel and I think I'm his friend because i understand that about him, but strangely enough I sort've liked the appellation. In a weird way, it fits me. Don't get me wrong, I'm a very tactile person. I love hugs and cuddles and stuff but...I have to admit, I'm not the hugest fan of sex. And this is hard for people to understand. I usually blame it on a thyroid thing, people understand medical reasons, but the truth is that it's just not my favourite thing. I'm not incredibly averse to it but it's more something I partake of for my partner's enjoyment rather than my own.
It's hard, sometimes, to reconcile the different parts of myself. in a way, I NEED people around. I need and crave that physical contact one can't always get in simple friendship. Well, maybe in mine. A lot of my friendships are a bit more tactile than "normal" as my way of compensating. At the same time, I'm scared of relationships because they always want more of me than I can really give. At least right now.
Life tends to surprise us, whenever we try to figure it out. It seems to lead one way and then ends up somewhere completely different. Two of my best female friends are engaged to each other, a fact I handled learning fairly well considering all the past relationships, all with boys, they had confided to me before. I felt a little betrayed, I think, at the time that such a huge event had happened in their life and neither of them had seen fit to inform me of any of tit. But that's my lot in life I suppose. i'm quiet and undemanding and people tend to forget about me and keeping me in their lives unless I make a huge effort. I try, sometimes, but making that effort day in and day out tires me so I let it fall by the wayside more and more.
One of my friends called me frigid, once. He was trying to be cruel, he's the type that feels like he needs to be cruel and I think I'm his friend because i understand that about him, but strangely enough I sort've liked the appellation. In a weird way, it fits me. Don't get me wrong, I'm a very tactile person. I love hugs and cuddles and stuff but...I have to admit, I'm not the hugest fan of sex. And this is hard for people to understand. I usually blame it on a thyroid thing, people understand medical reasons, but the truth is that it's just not my favourite thing. I'm not incredibly averse to it but it's more something I partake of for my partner's enjoyment rather than my own.
It's hard, sometimes, to reconcile the different parts of myself. in a way, I NEED people around. I need and crave that physical contact one can't always get in simple friendship. Well, maybe in mine. A lot of my friendships are a bit more tactile than "normal" as my way of compensating. At the same time, I'm scared of relationships because they always want more of me than I can really give. At least right now.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
not so good at this...
Although I highly doubt anyone has been keeping track, I'm not doing so well so far at this blogging everyday thing. I suppose, in a way, it's just hard to figure out what to say.
Tonight though, it is time to speak of fanfic.
In particular, i wrote a whole bunch of Power Rangers fanfic for my nanowrimo (national novel writing month) challenge. and now I am finally getting around to editing it and putting it up. I have about fifty or so to put up so it'll probably take a while.
In addition, I've decided to do this weird random pairing thing where i put the names of all the rangers into a box and draw out two of them and write a story about those two characters. The main reason I'm doing this is because i haven't really written SINCE nano and I want to start writing again. Like the devil's panties, i would like to try to write a bit every day, even if it's not something especially important. I picked out my first pairing to try and write. Trip and cam. I'm not sure what i'll do with them as yet but hopefully I'll wake up with a good idea. Right now I'm thinking of setting it around the time cam has to go into the past to get the samurai medallion. Trip has a job to make sure the timeline isn't messed with too much and appears at ninja ops.
I have a couple of weird ideas for more involved prfics going through my head. I think they'll involve a bit more thinking before I start putting them to paper.
One of them is sort of the story of what happened ten thousand years ago with rita and xordon and the rest. How did rita become evil and who was she before that? how did zordon get stuck as an interdimensional being? It involves zordon and rita being rangers, as well as goldar , zexdd and scorpina. a few others that I need to figure out.
another follows Billy to Aquitar and witnesses how he ends up staying instead of going back home to earth, how he ends up becoming the phantom ranger and how, when he returns to earth to help the rangers, he becomes infatuated with Cassie. it goes on to cover what happens next and how it eventually all comes together and Cassie finds out who the phantom ranger really is.
One that drifted through my mind today has to do with RPM and how it doesn't fit in with the rest. It concerns the idea that events of rpm were never supposed to happen but did because of the timeline getting messed up by the events of the time force season and the fallout. Now Jen has to come back and reunite with some of the rangers in order to figure out what exact events led to it and try to go back and fix them so history can be put back on track. Usually I go with the idea that RPM happened after spd but for this fic, I'm leaving it in the timeline where it is and wiping out two or so seasons before it. I'll have cameos from a few previous rangers who ended up in corinth but it'll mostly be a jen/wes fic.
Anyway, these are the things going through my head tonight. hopefully I'll be able to have something interesting to tell you tomorrow.
Tonight though, it is time to speak of fanfic.
In particular, i wrote a whole bunch of Power Rangers fanfic for my nanowrimo (national novel writing month) challenge. and now I am finally getting around to editing it and putting it up. I have about fifty or so to put up so it'll probably take a while.
In addition, I've decided to do this weird random pairing thing where i put the names of all the rangers into a box and draw out two of them and write a story about those two characters. The main reason I'm doing this is because i haven't really written SINCE nano and I want to start writing again. Like the devil's panties, i would like to try to write a bit every day, even if it's not something especially important. I picked out my first pairing to try and write. Trip and cam. I'm not sure what i'll do with them as yet but hopefully I'll wake up with a good idea. Right now I'm thinking of setting it around the time cam has to go into the past to get the samurai medallion. Trip has a job to make sure the timeline isn't messed with too much and appears at ninja ops.
I have a couple of weird ideas for more involved prfics going through my head. I think they'll involve a bit more thinking before I start putting them to paper.
One of them is sort of the story of what happened ten thousand years ago with rita and xordon and the rest. How did rita become evil and who was she before that? how did zordon get stuck as an interdimensional being? It involves zordon and rita being rangers, as well as goldar , zexdd and scorpina. a few others that I need to figure out.
another follows Billy to Aquitar and witnesses how he ends up staying instead of going back home to earth, how he ends up becoming the phantom ranger and how, when he returns to earth to help the rangers, he becomes infatuated with Cassie. it goes on to cover what happens next and how it eventually all comes together and Cassie finds out who the phantom ranger really is.
One that drifted through my mind today has to do with RPM and how it doesn't fit in with the rest. It concerns the idea that events of rpm were never supposed to happen but did because of the timeline getting messed up by the events of the time force season and the fallout. Now Jen has to come back and reunite with some of the rangers in order to figure out what exact events led to it and try to go back and fix them so history can be put back on track. Usually I go with the idea that RPM happened after spd but for this fic, I'm leaving it in the timeline where it is and wiping out two or so seasons before it. I'll have cameos from a few previous rangers who ended up in corinth but it'll mostly be a jen/wes fic.
Anyway, these are the things going through my head tonight. hopefully I'll be able to have something interesting to tell you tomorrow.
Thursday, 5 January 2012
Is there a girl?
I caught this little bit of interest on TV earlier today. A group of Ontarians have created Canada's answer to the G. I. Joe. Three Canadian Forces action figures, army, navy, and airforce. And I don't mean to be discouraging, really I don't, but my first reaction to hearing this was "Is there a girl?"
Yes, I know people are going to roll their eyes and label me some sort of feminazi. I'm really not. My question doesn't come out of some righteous need to shove females into everything under the sun or to prove a point. It comes from...being me, I suppose. it comes from being a girl whose female role models growing up were the Power Rangers. It comes from being a girl who caught ants and spiders in the backyard. it comes from being able to shoot a bow and arrow fairly well.
Yes, i love princesses. I love barbies. I love dressing up. And I love a lot of things that traditionally thought of as guy things too. This is not some rant about principles. Let's move on.
This is just...me being really sad. i understand why there isn't a girl figure. Most of the people in the Canadian Forces are still men. I just hate feeling left out. I hate that there isn't someone for me to sympathize with, to imagine myself in the shoes of. I know other girls are going to feel this way too. I know it won't just be girls, it'll be minorities of all sorts since all three of the figures are very typical white males.
Hopefully, as the Canadian Heroes line expands, we'll start to get more variety and i'll get the girls I want. Till then, I'll probably ignore this line as much as possible because it makes me just a little too sad, sitting in my room.
Anyway, enough about me. How does it make you feel? Especially those female friends of mine in the armed forces but everyone else too. What do you think?
Yes, I know people are going to roll their eyes and label me some sort of feminazi. I'm really not. My question doesn't come out of some righteous need to shove females into everything under the sun or to prove a point. It comes from...being me, I suppose. it comes from being a girl whose female role models growing up were the Power Rangers. It comes from being a girl who caught ants and spiders in the backyard. it comes from being able to shoot a bow and arrow fairly well.
Yes, i love princesses. I love barbies. I love dressing up. And I love a lot of things that traditionally thought of as guy things too. This is not some rant about principles. Let's move on.
This is just...me being really sad. i understand why there isn't a girl figure. Most of the people in the Canadian Forces are still men. I just hate feeling left out. I hate that there isn't someone for me to sympathize with, to imagine myself in the shoes of. I know other girls are going to feel this way too. I know it won't just be girls, it'll be minorities of all sorts since all three of the figures are very typical white males.
Hopefully, as the Canadian Heroes line expands, we'll start to get more variety and i'll get the girls I want. Till then, I'll probably ignore this line as much as possible because it makes me just a little too sad, sitting in my room.
Anyway, enough about me. How does it make you feel? Especially those female friends of mine in the armed forces but everyone else too. What do you think?
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
If it is well, it is well done.
I found Sarah Mclachlan's "Full of Grace" wandering through my head earlier today. Grace is an interesting thing, hard to pin down. Over the years, however, I have found it to be one of the few things I have a solid belief in. More than any moral code, it is something I try to live by.
It's a bit difficult to say what I mean by that. Elegance, good will, kindness, dignity, humility, nothing seems to really encompass it. Describing it is like describing a series of moments, flashes of photography unorganized otherwise but for this undefinable thread that runs though them all.
Even now, as I try to hold onto it, it slips through my fingers like fine sand, like spun silk, like water.
Maybe, in a way, it is easier to explain what grace is not.
It is not the reluctant and pained bowing to inevitability, to some tiresome chore that must be endured and accomplished with a heavy heart and tired hands. A common cry of women is "I don't want you to do this for me reluctantly, i want you to WANT to do it." And yes, it's a lot to ask but...it's a tacit understanding that the spirit behind the act is as important as the act itself.
It is not variable, ebbing and flowing like the tides of a double moon system. It's not something you can choose to have one moment and not the next. It requires a sort of internal consistency, a resolution that whatever you choose, you stand by it and accept it for both its good and bad aspects. A saying goes, "Take what you want and pay for it."
It...it occurs to me I'm doing a very bad job of organizing my thoughts. I'm not used to blogging and hopefully my delivery will improve as time goes on. For tonight, I shall leave you here, with my vague meanderings.
Farewell, until the morrow.
It's a bit difficult to say what I mean by that. Elegance, good will, kindness, dignity, humility, nothing seems to really encompass it. Describing it is like describing a series of moments, flashes of photography unorganized otherwise but for this undefinable thread that runs though them all.
Even now, as I try to hold onto it, it slips through my fingers like fine sand, like spun silk, like water.
Maybe, in a way, it is easier to explain what grace is not.
It is not the reluctant and pained bowing to inevitability, to some tiresome chore that must be endured and accomplished with a heavy heart and tired hands. A common cry of women is "I don't want you to do this for me reluctantly, i want you to WANT to do it." And yes, it's a lot to ask but...it's a tacit understanding that the spirit behind the act is as important as the act itself.
It is not variable, ebbing and flowing like the tides of a double moon system. It's not something you can choose to have one moment and not the next. It requires a sort of internal consistency, a resolution that whatever you choose, you stand by it and accept it for both its good and bad aspects. A saying goes, "Take what you want and pay for it."
It...it occurs to me I'm doing a very bad job of organizing my thoughts. I'm not used to blogging and hopefully my delivery will improve as time goes on. For tonight, I shall leave you here, with my vague meanderings.
Farewell, until the morrow.
Monday, 2 January 2012
New Year Resolution
Once upon a time, I had a blog. It was for a very short time actually. I wasn't very good at it and dropped it by the wayside. Ever since then, the idea of a blog has flitted though my mind and I javer tamped it down, protesting that I wouldn't be able to keep it up. I'm a writer and it always astounds people that I don't have a blog.
So maybe now it's time. Time for me to be brave.
So this blog is my new years resolution. I plan to post to it every day if I can, even when I have nothing to say. I don't really have a specific topic in mind, nor do I count myself an expert in very many things. I am simply an uninformed member of this online world, trying to participate.
I am not an expert opinion but I hope, every once in a while, I'll come up with something worthwhile to say.
So maybe now it's time. Time for me to be brave.
So this blog is my new years resolution. I plan to post to it every day if I can, even when I have nothing to say. I don't really have a specific topic in mind, nor do I count myself an expert in very many things. I am simply an uninformed member of this online world, trying to participate.
I am not an expert opinion but I hope, every once in a while, I'll come up with something worthwhile to say.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)