bironic

Last Wednesday: 85 and humid. This Wednesday: frost warning and wind advisory overnight.

The sudden cold makes for uncomfortable dreams.

This morning I dreamt that I was Luke Skywalker caught by baddies on a choppy sea. They locked me in a big black storage cube; I held on to the ceiling while they flushed out the contents into vacuum. Back on my feet afterwards, I beamed the Jedi mind-trick message "You don't see me, you don't see me," when they came to make sure they'd gotten rid of me, holding my breath and edging around the two inspectors, one of whom may have been Darth Vader. But then they sprayed some kind of chemical intended to reveal anyone hiding. The spray caught me in a few places as I tried to dodge it without making a sound of pain, going visible, or bumping into the inspectors. It took everything I had not to give myself away while the agonizing paralysis spread.

(Warning: gore.) Separate from a dream earlier in the night where I went back to the site of a gruesome incident that had killed me so I could collect the remaining chunks of flesh and bone for criminal evidence.

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That's twice now that The Good Place has resonated with my own struggles with atheistic mortality. Who would have expected it from a candy-colored mainstream sitcom?

A recent article said one of the show's philosophy consultants is Todd May, author of Death: The Art of Living, and that showrunner Mike Schur sought him out after reading that book many years back. This very volume has been sitting on my bookshelf for a while, alongside similars such as Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death. I've been both desperate and afraid to read it, in case it does or does not offer avenues for relief from this lifelong baseline anxiety about the end of consciousness and how not to exit this only life regretful. Maybe the pop culture connection will nudge it up the to-read list.

*

On a lighter note: It wasn't until this year that I started using the browser bookmark function on my phone. Each time I open it to check the forecast, I laugh that the only two bookmarks in there so far are the National Weather Service page for my zip code and somebody's list of Longmire episodes in which Mathias appears.

Still need to write some Longmire posts before festivids signups start. Too much to do in not enough time.

Reading

I finally tried Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, and I loved it. First, it fit the need for a novel and an easy read during this week of post-snow hell commutes. Second, it was more relatable and moving than anticipated. Plowed through the whole thing in two days.

Should I read Carry On next? I didn't have feelings about Simon and Baz like I had about Cath, but then, before starting Fangirl I didn't think I would have feelings about Cath, either.

Plenty of--maybe too many--other contenders for To Read Next, although none of them seem quite right at the moment. I combed my bookshelves this weekend and compiled a list of things I own and haven't read. It shouldn't have been long, not after I did a major cull a couple of years back when I decided to switch from "collector" to "curator" mode, leaving only books I (a) have read and liked or (b) truly want to / intend to read. Yet the list somehow topped 85? It's weird, it doesn't look like there are that many unread books on the shelves. And only 20 of them are SF/F.

Watching

Kubo and the Two Strings: engrossing story, good score, beauuuuuutiful animation, but super bizarre to discover that it was indeed an American production and not dubbed in English over the original Japanese, because how else on Earth can you justify the casting? White American, English and South African actors as the five main Japanese characters? Why am I hearing Ralph Fiennes while looking at this face? I mean, Charlize Theron stole the movie as the monkey, but those were some seriously questionable choices. Did enjoy the George Takei cameo.

Star Trek: Discovery: I still have no idea what this show is; it seems to change every two or three episodes. Since the pilot, which I loved, it has been alternately entertaining, infuriating and tedious. I don't identify with, adore or find myself fascinated by any of the characters so far, which is probably the main reason I keep taking breaks in the middle of episodes. I did enjoy the latest one and the time loop one, because time loops, and I gasped aloud during a certain moment this week, so some stuff is clearly working. Just not sure I'd still be watching if it weren't Star Trek. It's nice to see so many friends passionate about it on Twitter, though. I would read their Burnham/Lorca d/s fic.

Vidding

Puttering away at the Festivid(s) and auction vid. In more important news, someone asked me to beta one of their Festivids, and it is AMAZING. [Extensive flailing redacted.] If it's not in my top five recs for this round, then we will have experienced a true bounty of excellent vids.

Doing

Battling the messy streets and sidewalks. We've barely had a thaw after clawing our way out of the city's third-longest recorded stretch of days below freezing. It's taking around 90 minutes to get to and from work, which is, by the way, four miles from my house, which saps energy and mood. Something weird was going on as well earlier this week where I kept falling asleep an hour or more early at night, having odd dreams and still waking up tired.

But: a couple of those dreams were good, such as the one where I was about to have sex with Jeff Goldblum. (TMI? Something about how, while we were both lounging in bed, he announced he had overcome his ennui and impotence for the first time in a while, I magically produced a condom, and then circumstances kept intervening.) And it was announced today that some things I wrote at work last year won awards in a national competition. That felt good for a while, until it started to also feel sad that I rely on that kind of external validation to gauge the quality of my work. But there it is.

How are you all faring?

U.S. politics has (have?) washed over my head again, as it does periodically, rising from the baseline fear and disappointment that mounted during election season and spiked in November.

I don't talk about it much here. This blog, and bironicwastaken, are my dedicated fannish spaces online. It looks like we all understand that media consumption, fannishness and other creative pursuits are permissible hobbies, community building in an environment of divisiveness, necessary breaks and even artistic acts of resistance as we struggle with current events. Still, I sometimes (1) worry that fannish-oriented posts strike the wrong tone in wider context, such as yesterday's, and (2) feel a defensive urge to point out that I'm doing things "in real life" to fight what's happening, even if they may not be enough and even though no one has said anything.

When I get down on myself about not doing enough, I focus on things like these, in addition to thinking through how I can have a greater impact:
- Since November, every feature article I’ve written at work has made an explicit or strong implicit political statement
- This auction vid not only raised money for a good cause but is also about celebrating many characters of color in current genre sources, and that's not for nothing these days
- Every month, I donate to activist, investigative journalism and/or minority-support organizations
- I talk to people, including family and friends who voted in ways I am trying to understand
- etc.

That is all. It's a[nother] tough day. ETA: Not least: ( Event & dream involving anti-semitism )

I don't even know what to say. You all see what's happening too.

How I've coped this week:

Reading, Watching, Sharing, Doing
I've been taking in as much news as I can handle, which varies by the evening. Since it's all too easy for me to think about things and stop there, I've also made efforts to transform that intake and mental processing into actions. Things like setting up monthly rather than annual charity donations, signing the subset of petitions that have a shot at going anywhere, and building a spreadsheet of local, state and federal representative contact information plus specific issues to thank them for supporting or urge them to oppose. I haven't psyched myself up yet to, uh, actually make the phone calls, but I'm working on it. Still unsure which outreach efforts are most effective when I live in a Democratic state with kickass reps who are already writing joint statements and introducing bills to prevent or reverse the most atrocious developments.

Working
Nobody at our office got anything done the day after the election, but by the next day I was ready to bury myself in work. My monthly productivity is now on track to be one and a half to two times normal.

Vidding
thedeadparrot, stultiloquentia and disgruntledowl came over at various times last weekend for communal laptopping and to talk or not-talk about our government-to-be. I made a festivids treat draft in 24 hours and picked at a few others. Current plan: four Festivids and one Christmas vid. Ha. Ha ha ha.

Cooking
Vidding only worked as a distraction through Saturday. Sunday I tried to sit in the computer desk chair but kept drifting into the kitchen to start some other cooking or baking project. By the end of the day, there was curried pumpkin-apple soup, pumpkin bread, an onion and feta frittata, baked sweet potatoes, roasted vegetable lasagna and lemon-basil haddock with spaghetti squash. It's kept me in leftovers for the entire week, plus extras in the freezer, and one loaf of the pumpkin bread fed my coworkers.

Reading
Not much fiction. Finished the Young Miles compendium -- enjoyed the Dendarii parts, gradually lost patience with the rest -- and am wrapping up Vampire Romance 2. Starting to do proper research into the paranormal erotica short story market. I did go to book club last Thursday despite only having read a few chapters of the book months ago (The Goblin Emperor), and was glad to have done so, for the company.

Writing
Picked up a high school- into college-era (!) orig fic last night and added 1,200 words in 60 or 90 minutes, which, if you've been keeping track, is a lot for me these last few years. Want to try some more tonight and over the weekend. There is a sequence of scenes I daydreamed about back in the day that for some reason resurfaced, matured with time, a couple of nights ago, and I'm trying to get them down on the page. A sort of recovery story, years after the hurt I put the hero and heroine through: probably another form of self-comfort this month to go with the blankets and hoodies and warm drinks and toast.

Watching
Not much besides current events. thedeadparrot and I did go to see Arrival last Friday and it was great; haven't enjoyed a new SF movie that much since Interstellar. Oh, and Westworld. I'm still ambivalent about it but there's more to enjoy than it seemed at the beginning. This week's episode had one particularly delightful scenario and one great twist. Still, laughably Dark and frustratingly male-POV even when it's focusing on Strong Female Characters.

Dreaming
Starting last Tuesday, I went from having never dreamt about politics or politicians in my life to dreaming about them almost every night. Am ready for this phase to pass.

And so another week comes to a close. How are you all holding up?

(It is raining.)

Doing: Just returned from a five-day trip to my grandparents' in Florida, with my dad. Some ups, some downs, as happens when one's family is dealing with age-related health issues and dwindling ability to remain independent. Or codependent, as the case may be. In any event, it was good to see them, they appreciated the visit, and my dad and I did make it to the beach one beautiful morning. Two hours of swimming and of resting in the shade of an umbrella: divine.

Watching: A collection of Turner Classic Movies with the grandparents: Bringing Up Baby, With Six You Get Eggroll, Anna and the King of Siam (with Rex Harrison, not Yul Brynner), and 15 minutes of The Man Who Would Be King before I quit in distaste. Oh, and we caught the last 20 minutes or so of Transcendence, because apparently Paul Bettany movies now follow me wherever I go.

On my own, beginning of season three of Gilmore Girls, with the occasional ep thrown in of season three of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. Haven't yet started the new series of Doctor Who.

Have also been getting together once every couple of weeks with thedeadparrot to alternately heckle and admire Project Runway, which is great fun.

Reading: Re-read of Ancillary Justice complete; Ancillary Sword half complete. Still wonderful. The series works for me on every level: concept behind the main character, basic plot, worldbuilding, personally and societally relevant themes (schisms in identity, class conflict, racism, suppression/absorption of minorities, social justice, police brutality, white male privilege, love and grief and revenge), favorite sci fi tropes (artificial intelligences, alien contact, awakening after centuries in cryo freeze), subtle and indirect emotions that sneak up on you, use of "she" as gender-neutral pronoun so that the universe feels filled with women. Not least, I relate to and envy the main character in numerous ways. Today's delight: remembering how Translator Dlique sounded a touch like Luna Lovegood as well as Delirium of the Endless. Can't wait for Ancillary Mercy next week.

Ummmm also I mentioned this on Twitter but I discovered last week that Ann Leckie recced Starships! in August and I retweeted her and then she replied to me and I may have died a little.

Before that, read Saga vol 5--excellent--then finished The Book of Three and barely started The Black Cauldron by Lloyd Alexander, in the Chronicles of Prydain series, for book club. Eh. So far it is template fantasy; I found myself playing Spot the Comparison to things like Lord of the Rings, The Once & Future King, Earthsea and the Fionavar Tapestry. Young Eilonwy is a hoot and the prince whose name I've forgotten is written to be nice and sexy in a kids' book sort of way--in fact, young male protagonist Taran reads as though he's in love with him without really realizing it--but the books have not grabbed me so far. Gwydion. Will try a little more and see how it goes. Favorite line so far: "She is the only oracular pig in Prydain."

Vidding: Submitted my most favorite source ideas to festivids (who will make me a book trailer for Ancillary Justice???) and am trying to think of whether there are any more. Glanced really quickly through the list of nominations and spotted something that soon after generated an idea, woo.

Also we will see if a vid gets generated for Halloween, my most successful vidding holiday to date. Have a bunch of source already ripped for one potential project. Unfortunately, have a bunch of RL stuff in October, too.

Writing: Not a lot outside of work. Adding some words here and there to that Marius/Mary Sue story. Speaking of posts that met with crickets.

Meeting: Got to hang for a couple of hours with such_heights and happydork last weekend when they stopped by Boston Fannish Brunch on their way across the country for their honeymoon; that was a treat.

Eating: Culinary highlights of September included a lobster roll from James Hook & Co., which lived up to its reputation of understanding that mayo and bun should take a backseat to the lobster meat, and a scoop of Noodle Kugel ice cream from JP Licks, which was cinnamon-spiked vanilla ice cream studded with cooked-then-frozen egg noodles. Because how can you pass up a specialty Rosh Hashanah ice cream flavor?

ETA: Wait, I forgot the other two excellent foods. First, following some nutrition advice, I tried broiled mackerel from the local Japanese restaurant and it was fantastic. Savory and salty and firm with a crisp skin. Will attempt to make something like it at home one of these days and see if the resulting oily-fish smell is worth the meals it produces. Second, I discovered the cayenne-mango flavored almonds from Q's Nuts in Somerville and cannot get over the perfect blend of spicy and sweet. Nom nom afternoon snacks.

Dreaming: of autumn. It's still 80+ degrees out, and nearly October. Come on.

Also I had a dream the first night in Florida that Chief O'Brien showed up to try to save me at the end of a godawful tennis match and I was disappointed (but also relieved) that Bashir wasn't there. And then that I had to explain to Tony Stark how I was feeling after a traumatic event, so I phrased it in relation to his life: "imagine if the Iron Man suits were all destroyed, and Pepper was hurt, and Rhodey'd been killed..."

Whew. Okay, let's return after this to normal-sized, focused posts.

I dreamt a terrible dream about Voldemort ripping the side off a trailer where Harry, Hermione and Ron were hiding in a storm, and taunting Harry to come out into the driving rain and face him.

Then I fell back asleep and dreamt about sitting in John Hannah's lap while he kissed my neck.

And talking to Michael Dorn about the shows we'd acted in together, while Avery Brooks and the rest of the DS9 cast played Frisbee in a carnival field.

*shrug*



Last night at the Coolidge Corner Theater I got to see the filmed version of the play Skylight, written by David Hare and starring Carey Mulligan and Bill Nighy. I'd tried to get a last-minute ticket while we were in London this summer, but no dice. They filmed it a few nights later.

It was just as fabulous as anticipated. Stellar writing and acting. Compelling characters whose backgrounds and motivations and flaws and strengths complicate with each turn of the conversation. Who also symbolize without being reduced to symbols. Good quality recording, other than a few microphone blips like when Mulligan would tuck her hair behind her ear or how loud a pot of sautéing vegetables sounded depending on her angle to the stove.

I'd known it was about a young woman re-encountering an older man she'd had an affair with years earlier. I hadn't known it was more broadly about classism and sexism and terminal illness and cultural tensions between people who pursue business (Nighy's character) and people who pursue careers like teaching and social work (Mulligan's), and whether there can be reconciliation between them (embodied by Nighy's character's son, Edward, played by Matthew Beard). As Hare said in an interview onscreen during the intermission, it was relevant in the 90s when he wrote it on the heels of the Thatcher era, and it's relevant now after (or during?) a similar governmental attitude, there and here.

Turns out the play is coming to NYC in the spring with the same cast. Very much recommended if you're local. If I hadn't seen it last night, I'd go. While the film version of course lacked the vibrancy of attending a live performance, the irony was I was able to see the actors' faces and the details of the set more clearly than would be possible in an affordable theater seat.

Dreamed last night that ZacharyQuinto!Spock and KarlUrban!McCoy started kissing after a surge of sexual tension. I think I was the latter for some of it; I remember what Quinto's mouth felt like.

I don't even know. I blame rubynye for linking last night to the Porn Battle XV index, which listed many Reboot fills.

If we are on the topic of Trek + sexy, this shot of Spock in a gray t-shirt from "Bread and Circuses" (the latest episode ignazwisdom has recapped on her still-NSFW Tumblr) just about defines the level of handsomeness and borderline innocent skin-baring that I enjoy in TOS.

Also Spock and McCoy.

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elipie's Festivid, Applause, inspired me to try the show Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23 last week. With only 25 or 30 episodes of 20 minutes each, and, of critical importance, no laugh track, it went quickly and enjoyably. Krysten Ritter is freaking gorgeous, and her character was entertaining, in a Chaotic Evil shading toward Chaotic Neutral sort of way. Despite never having watched Dawson's Creek, James van der Beek's self-parody amused as well. I guess he's following in the footsteps of people like Wil Wheaton, William Shatner and Neil Patrick Harris to acknowledge and take ownership of his image.

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Lately I've felt like writing some fic, but am at a loss for what. I don't know what sort of stories I want to hear or tell anymore, and today's popular fandoms leave me cold. (Relatedly: I look forward to the day when the AO3 has a more robust search capability.) Too bad Remix isn't for another month or two; this would be a perfect time.

I read a 100K Inception fic on Friday. It'd been months since I'd read any fic other than sporadic updates of snookiescookies' Pretty Woman AU Paper Things and toomuchplor's Steinway!verse, both also Inception, but for whatever reason, the desire struck me and there was this student/teacher high school AU I hadn't read among the fics ranked by most kudos on the AO3.

It was - well, on a sentence level it needed work (to paraphrase the opening of one section: 'He groaned, jaw dropping, the blood rushing both from and into his face as his brain tried to decide whether to blush or go pale in mortification'), all adverbs and redundant descriptions and a weird mix of italics and all-caps for emphasis, and there were some "that would never happen" moments as well as idiosyncrasies born of a British author depicting an American school year, etc., but it was paced well and the cresting and ebbing emotions resonated, and I was glad to have read it by the time I went to bed.

All that by way of mentioning two things:

One

I know fandom loves its tropes, but I'm tired of the conceit where the [ETA: neurotypical] character with the desperate crush refuses to see the signs that the object of said crush returns the attraction. I like the tension when it's uncertain whether the feelings are reciprocated, and the pining when it seems there aren't and won't be any indications of same (even if there ends up being a happy ending), and the shift from pining to joy when the one with the crush begins to hope or to understand that it might be mutual. But this thing where character A likes character B, and character B indicates in numerous ways that they like A as well, but A explains it all away, and then characters C and D tell A that A is being ridiculous and obtuse, but A also rationalizes their comments away, followed by a string of deliberate misunderstandings and a near blowup before the climactic epiphany and celebratory sex... not a favorite.

I mean, I get that someone liking a person can be more obvious to outsiders than to the person themselves, but so many stories take it too far (for me) and I wish writers would respect their characters and their readers enough to spend less time on the misunderstandings phase and more on the "can this really be true," "how do we make this work" parts OR drop fewer obvious hints and let the pining feel as acute to the reader as it does to the character instead of leaving us to facepalm because we see the signs of affection as clearly as their frustrated friends do. Well, no, it's maybe not a lack of respect so much as a love for the structure that you see so often in romantic comedies. A love that I share less with each passing year.

Maybe I'm just reading the wrong stories.

Two

Must have been the influx of ficciness after a drought, but I had this dream Friday night involving three men with (on reflection) Eames' body type as described in the story, hard bodies, heavily muscled, tattooed, naked, exuding sex and power in a way that defied what I'm usually attracted to. Have been trying to pin down what the main one looked like, slick black hair and olive skin; can only come up with something like Sukar from the TV show Defiance, except that's not quite it.

In the dream the three of them were recovering from some kind of energy blast like being hit with a phaser and one had taken it really hard, was groaning and shaking as though he were having a seizure, wrapped around a radiator to try to ease the aftershocks, only when the other two pried him away from it he had these huge gouges in his flesh that had been burned away from the heat, down to muscle and bone.

So.

Domestic day today, methinks, after a busy one yesterday at the Head of the Charles and out on a bike ride. There's a vid to poke at and pumpkin bread to be made.

Ugh, today. My building's fire alarm went off at 2:15 a.m.—the universe has been against me getting a good night's sleep since last Wednesday—and then my pants button randomly popped off a few minutes after I staggered into the office, ha. This after dreaming that deelaundry got upset about something some other fans said in person.

Hasn't been a total wash, though; I also had a dream where you could go to this aquatic arena, get fitted with SCUBA gear, and get sucked up into and shot out of a giant artificial tentacle that felt like a life-size version of those squishy plastic and gel tubes you find at some gift shops (or, er, probably also like male sex aid sleeves). It was long and detailed—the woman in charge gave me a nose clip on request, and I remember easing into breathing underwater—and, I must say, a lot of fun.

Kink Bingo

Speaking of tentacles and things to look forward to: Kink Bingo'll be starting up again in a couple of weeks, hurrah. There are some exciting new categories/squares. Last year I had fun knocking out a bingo that was all Inception recs; this year I bet I could do one that's all Karin (Mary Sue) stories. Not that a lot of people would want to read them, but whatever, I have a bunch of personally satisfying WsIP in that arena. Plus there are leftover non-Mary Sue ideas from previous rounds—still want to do the Brimstone AU with Ronon Dex for "tattoos," for example, and a Vampire Diaries breathplay picspam, and a Kill Your Darlings multi-kink vid—oh, there's a movie to pimp at the next con_txt Small Fandom Dating Game!—and who knows what new ideas will be inspired by the 2012 card.

Relatedly, have you seen this amazing kink quilt that flyingthesky designed and made?? Their write-up is as funny as the quilt is impressive.

Ramp-up to the next round is going on right now. This watersports essay looks interesting.

...God, I really need to answer the rest of the comments to my noncon essay from last ramp-up.

Vividcon

Submissions for Vividcon's premieres show are due a week from Friday. At this point, my only shot is to finish that People of Pegasus Are Really Pissed Off vid from two years ago. It's like 90% filled in, but a) I'm not sure it's Premieres material and b) that completion percentage will drop quite a bit if I start knocking the clips out of their cut-to-the-beat pattern like I want to. I don't suppose any of you with expertise in SGA and/or Vividcon would want to offer advice on a complete draft?

The joy and confidence boost of con.txt this weekend convinced me that I do want to go to Vividcon this summer. I'd registered, but I was hesitant about following through, in part because I know the experience won't be like the last/first time I went, in 2010 (and because I wasn't sure about other summer travel). There were a dozen people I was thrilled beyond words to meet and/or hang out with who won't be going this year—thingswithwings, eruthros, anatsuno, isagel, roga, chagrined...—and it's harder when you don't have a con buddy. But. One, the schedule looks fantastic. Two, I'll have at least two vids showing, and it would be great to be there to see how they're received.

To bolster enthusiasm between cons, hopefully without burning ourselves out, chatting with cinco led to the idea of maybe organizing a vid-watching party for my birthday next month. If so, I'll be asking you for your recommendations!

Summer

Riverdance was a treat on Sunday. Beautiful weather out on the lawn at Wolf Trap at twilight, and after inhaling a sandwich—amazing how three days at a con will mess with your eating patterns and body awareness—I even managed to watch the whole thing without having to lie down. The step-versus-tap number was stunning, and the falling darkness added an extra sense of eeriness to the starscape photo behind one of the instrumental pieces. I did miss the Russian dervish, though. Overall the show lacked some power by virtue of it being my second time seeing it and at a distance as well, plus perhaps the small stage, but we'd inadvertently caught the last performance in North America after a 16-year run, so there was palpable emotion during the producer's introduction and the company's final curtain calls.

Happy summer, Northern Hemisphereans. We're hitting 100 degrees here today and tomorrow.

Forgive the jargon jollies in the subject line; I woke up two and a half hours early this morning and couldn't fall back asleep. This occurred after dreaming that ( DeForest Kelley, Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner were doing semi-graphic things (while fully clothed, at least). )

I don't know. It made sense at the time? Certainly the dozen or so of us spectators who were gathered around the table were marveling that this was allowed on television and delighting in the dialogue. Wish I could remember it.

That meant I spent a good portion of the morning with "Last Friday Night" stuck in my head, after this vid. Not sure if that's better than last night, which involved Kansas in August. Welcome to the inside of my head.