fangirlisms et al.

brain in suspension

A return to fanfiction
Adrian ☞ Out my GQMF window
Fanfiction. Fanart. I miss you.

I somehow became a part of the "real world." I thought it would be a quick flirtation, something to make me attractive to real guys, and I'd be back with the next big movie release, piece of fiction, or TV show. But Sherlock, House, Thor, and the Avengers later, and nothing has caught my eye. I wonder what happened.

I mean, a boyfriend probably had something to do with it. He's a very realistic sort of guy. And I'm the type that doesn't believe that there's a need to force my will onto other people. And so, inevitably, over the last three years, I have bended to accommodate him.

And it's not to say that he doesn't give me my free space, or allow me my pursuits. But his realistic, practical view of the world has informed mine. The energy that I used to spend on struggling to reconcile two characters with one another was now spent on reconciling myself with him.

This is the first time in a year that he's gone on a business trip and I haven't tagged along. After my events tonight, I bought groceries, went home, turned on my favorite podcast, and began writing.

I was about 300 words into a new story about a frog that drives a rickshaw around San Francisco when I puttered out. My usual stamina for these things. Even when I was writing fanfiction, the most I could manage was 800 words before I puttered out, and that was if I was lucky. But it was interesting that *this* was the activity that I turned to the moment he was gone. Did I do it to assuage my loneliness—to immerse myself in the routine and memories that used to form some of my most treasured social interactions, or did I do it because I was finally "free" of my "normal life?"

Now, don't get me wrong. My boyfriend knows full well about my "sordid" past, as do all my ex-boyfriends. Writing fanfiction is never something I've hid from people—nor is it something I'm ashamed of. In fact, I wish I kept writing it if only to be able to proudly announce to people that I'm a part of some kind of alternative culture.

But I wonder where it went. I guess we only have so much energy in our lives to devote to these kinds of passions, and it's so hard for me to muster up the energy to create things when I'm busy—well, trying to make my relationship work. Just run it, come up with new ideas to stimulate it, turn my imagination in the direction of what neat and creative sexy things to do and what I need to wear to the next social event in order to make the best impression and help both our causes as people whose jobs depends on our reputation and network. And the rest of my energy goes toward work.

It's been such a long time since I updated. My life has gotten better, I think. I'm healthier: I pay attention to what I'm eating, and I walk everywhere. I call my parents more. I pay my bills on time and am a (mostly) responsible citizen. I'm a dutiful and loving and creative girlfriend, and a team player and gung-ho contributor at work. I pay for my mother's vacations and try to get my kid sister internship opportunities and help friends with side projects and side businesses. I wrote a short story for a friend's zine, and I was proud of it. But it was nowhere near the length of anything I used to write, or the depth.

My drawing skills have suffered without the nightly guidance of dr_oil and the watchmenpchat. My fanfiction portfolio has mostly suffered without daily readings of etherati and thyme and everyone else. I don't feel like I have a special, secret life anymore; my life these days is all in the public view, in what I do at work, where I go for dinner, which friends I hang out with. All recorded on Facebook for advertisers to track. Even Livejournal wants me to link my Twitter—no thanks. I miss my private life, but an investment in private life feels like cheating my real life and the people who need me or want me or are used to having me around.

I used to love these secret, make-believe men, and pour such energy into them. I made them come to life in strange poses and bad anatomy and florid prose. They were of my own making and they were bent to our will.

And then I found a real, unpredictable man, and he is lovely in all the ways that a real character is—at times hilariously obtuse, at other times disarmingly perceptive. Sometimes completely receptive to love, his mood as pliant as sheepskin. Sometimes acerbic, cutting me to the quick.

I have a real man now, and he doesn't read like any of these men from the past do. And maybe there's no difference, because I still impose my will on him, but sometimes he doesn't confirm, he still wants to do his own thing. I tried so hard to reconcile Cobb and Arthur, but they had their own minds, and never actually got together, convincingly, in my universes.

So I guess the difference here is that — my real man is the only one who can break my heart. And that's a risk that I live with every day. What surprises me is that I'm willing to live with it. There was such comfort in these make-believe men and my love for them and my control over them.

I guess that it's only when my boyfriend is traveling that this feeling comes out—that I miss them dearly, good old Rorschach and Dan and Cobb and Arthur, and what they meant for my creative capabilities. How they helped me become a confident writer and storyteller and erstwhile storyboarder, and how they reassured me that I was a capable, creative being who delivered product after product that people loved and enjoyed. I still go back to my reviews now and then, smiling loads. A colleague's accolade doesn't ring as true to me as a review on a fic I wrote.

Fanfiction, I miss you. But I think you'll always be here for me. Because, and here's the clincher—you *are* a part of me. That immutable part of my nerdy, silly, creative, imaginative self that loves the idea of two ideas reconciling despite the odds. And I haven't read you for so long, or written you for so long, but I think about you every day. And there might come a time where I'll need you, and I'll come back (probably in tears), and you won't judge me, and you won't hate me, and you'll let me love you in a way that other people won't, or can't.

Fanfiction, I am so glad you exist. I can't wait for the moment when my kids discover you.

(no subject)
My brain is furiously knitting
An afghan of muscle, wires. 
If a bloody blanket makes a Dream
Then my situation is quite dire. 


I think I need to do yoga or something

Hello Hollywood (Road) and London!
sally jupiter ☞ glee!
Dearest Internet friends! It's been the longest time since I updated this journal, blehhh. However, I am doing well and will be coming to London again in June. My work schedule is still getting settled, but I hope to meet up with you guys if you're available for some nerding and food/drinks on me, anactorialiodainscarlet_carsonskhilari  tuff_ghost and anybody else in the Londonish area! 

Also, I have a photoblog on tumblr, .  If you have a tumblr, follow me and I'll follow you.  

OH HAI FOLKS AND WELCOME TO MY JOURNAL. :D This is a personal journal but will be fannish about 97% of the time. All my stuff (fanfic, fanart, graphics, and other shenanigans that I'm proud to call my own) can be found at daikontime.

Currently fangirling for INCEPTION and WATCHMEN.


Radishes—good for the face!
Well, this article gives a whole new meaning to my screen name. Looks like it's been waiting for this day!

dan ☞ noooooaaaahhh

Two weeks in and countless attempts at reading House/Wilson fanfiction later, I'm dying to know—where is the good stuff?

How do I sort my way through the mountain of crap and get to the GOOD stuff? I'm talking about the cream of the crop, can't miss it, and life would not be complete without it sort of fanfiction. Am I missing something or just typing in the wrong Google search terms? How can such an awesome show have such an arsenal of mediocre fic? Every night I finish watching another three to six episodes, I'm invigorated again on my quest for House/Wilson, only to be disappointed 15 minutes later when I realize that I'm once again swimming through a cesspool uninventive plot devices and static characterization. House was one of the most popular shows in the last few years—don't tell me that there wasn't any good output during its heydey...! 

Someone please prescribe me some awesome House/Wilson because I have had it up to <i>here</i> with differential disappointment and am going to go into anaphylactic shock if I have to skim through one more adverb-ridden fic. X(

the daily lol



adrian ☞ is a turkey
ITTO: Teenagers Revive Dead Languages Through Texting
A funny thing happened to several languages on their way to extinction -- they were saved, pulled back from the brink by teenagers and the Internet, of all things.
Do languages really die... or do they just get absorbed into more current ones? Let's not forget that English is the original hodgepodge, melting-pot, alt-language.

The importance of text brevity vs. techtalk coolness in determining the real reasons behind "brb" and "lol" adoption goes back to function vs. form argument—chatspeak owes its adoption to both. But is the dead languages ressurection/maintenance an indication of a deeper nationalistic leaning or just another cliquish youth thing?

Back in the day...Collapse )

I'm just not sure how "cool" this text would be: 

u missed eric's hancock last nite! it was totes WCTD, BVH osm.


You missed Eric's (big signature move) last night! It was totally Washington-Crossing-the-Delaware, Burr-vs-Hamilton awesome.

I mean, I'd totally be down for "WCTD" to mean "EPIC." 

New York 3-Jun to 13-Jun
Leaving HK again, this time for the Big Apple. Any East-Coasty fandomers want to meet up? Please drop me a note! :)

London May 13 to May 22
I'm traveling to London on work again from May 13 to May 22! Is there anyone in town on my f-list who might like to meet up with a fellow fangirl and geek out over Watchmen or Thor? I'll be freer during the week, but will be visiting Brighton and Cambridge on the 19 and 20th. Drop me a line and we can make plans to meet up!


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