Venting, venting, venting ...
Nov. 27th, 2003 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosYou know, it's times like this that I need to avoid watching novelizations like the "Into Thin Air" movie. My brain wants to write and is about as blocked as could be, but here I am watching this thing, and my muse keeps reminding me that I had an idea for an X-Men movieverse fanfic where Bobby and Logan climb Everest.
Shut up, you stupid muse, or I'm not letting you near the People Sexiest Men Alive issue again. (Then again, I've been gone since Wednesday and Mikey's been over the apartment. It's entirely possible that not only is that issue stuck together, but so is every page of every magazine within fifteen feet.)
********
You know, why is it that when I make plans for something like this, everything goes entirely to shit? And it's not even like it's all writing-related, although I'd say my computer keeling over from a stroke counts.
It's like someone somehere sees what I'm doing and says, "Let's pile about as much stress as we can manage onto her head and watch it implode!"
If I'd known the computer was going to get even worse, I wouldn't have signed up for the goddamn thing. And just for fun, it's not so much the fucking broken computer that's getting to me, it's the mental strain that's blanking my creativity the fuck out.
Argh, argh, argh.
*headwall*
********
Know what I'm doing right now? Nothing.
Know what I've been doing all day? Nothing.
Know why? Because apparently, my little brother -- the one who hasn't been in anything remotely resembling an accident yet -- is not allowed to a.) get used to driving in the snow, or b.) get used to driving busy highways. Not only that, but I'm not allowed to borrow the car.
Did I mention I'm the world's worst driver? 'Cause I ... oh, wait, that's not me. I'm not that bad a driver at all. My bad.
Any implication that I'm the worst driver in the family coming in the same weekend that my dad bumped the front end of my mom's Mustang against some guy's back bumper when he was driving me home from Washington is exceedingly laughable.
One trip out with the car to the movies (which, by the way, can be reached almost totally be back roads) is not too much to ask.
********
I say this mainly because I was trying to work on my NaNo story and my characters are cracking on the whole concept, and just thinking about it today was bugging the bejesus out of me.
You know why certain fandom pairings piss me off? Not because I can't picture the characters together, but because suddenly the concept of the pairing being 'meant to be' comes up, and I just lose my grasp on the story.
Why the hell am I supposed to care about any conflict that comes afterward if I know the couple is 'meant to be'? The phrase never seems to be thrust into a story in which the two amicably break up and proceed to happily date the neighbors.
Nope, it's always done in stories that end with the couple blissfully married and popping out "the beautiful, lovely, incredible precious child born of their never-ending love." I like to think the kid later turns out to be a deranged serial killer. Keeps my blood sugar firmly in check.
Don't give me an argument that your pairing is 'meant to be'. Give me an argument that the two characters have similar personalities, or that they have great chemistry, or that you'd just really like them to screw each other blind in fifteen different positions on top of the dining room table right after Thanksgiving in view of the whole freaking family.
'Meant to be' is not an argument that two characters should be together, 'meant to be' is a sincere hope by a fan that two characters, in the end, will be together in a loving, lasting relationship. It's nice that you think your favorite OTP is 'meant to be'. Now tell me why.
(By the way, I'm totally exempting romance novels from this rant. I'm not reading romance novels for the love story, I'm reading it for the softcore porn. Hey, at least I'm honest.)
********
Bryan and I have always had a deal when it comes to Christmas presents. We go to the mall, we pick out what we want, we buy it for the other one, and we just give it to them right then and there. Maybe it's a bit stupid, but it staves off our horrible impatience by at least giving us one or two presents to hold us over until Christmas finally comes.
Oh, and we also tend to spy for one another when it comes to what "Santa" is bringing. Yes, it ruins the surprise. We know this.
But both of us HATE surprises. We'd much rather express our excitement on Christmas morning by grinning madly and cooing while secretly thinking, "Thank God! I finally get to play with my new toy!"
Shut up, you stupid muse, or I'm not letting you near the People Sexiest Men Alive issue again. (Then again, I've been gone since Wednesday and Mikey's been over the apartment. It's entirely possible that not only is that issue stuck together, but so is every page of every magazine within fifteen feet.)
********
You know, why is it that when I make plans for something like this, everything goes entirely to shit? And it's not even like it's all writing-related, although I'd say my computer keeling over from a stroke counts.
It's like someone somehere sees what I'm doing and says, "Let's pile about as much stress as we can manage onto her head and watch it implode!"
If I'd known the computer was going to get even worse, I wouldn't have signed up for the goddamn thing. And just for fun, it's not so much the fucking broken computer that's getting to me, it's the mental strain that's blanking my creativity the fuck out.
Argh, argh, argh.
*headwall*
********
Know what I'm doing right now? Nothing.
Know what I've been doing all day? Nothing.
Know why? Because apparently, my little brother -- the one who hasn't been in anything remotely resembling an accident yet -- is not allowed to a.) get used to driving in the snow, or b.) get used to driving busy highways. Not only that, but I'm not allowed to borrow the car.
Did I mention I'm the world's worst driver? 'Cause I ... oh, wait, that's not me. I'm not that bad a driver at all. My bad.
Any implication that I'm the worst driver in the family coming in the same weekend that my dad bumped the front end of my mom's Mustang against some guy's back bumper when he was driving me home from Washington is exceedingly laughable.
One trip out with the car to the movies (which, by the way, can be reached almost totally be back roads) is not too much to ask.
********
I say this mainly because I was trying to work on my NaNo story and my characters are cracking on the whole concept, and just thinking about it today was bugging the bejesus out of me.
You know why certain fandom pairings piss me off? Not because I can't picture the characters together, but because suddenly the concept of the pairing being 'meant to be' comes up, and I just lose my grasp on the story.
Why the hell am I supposed to care about any conflict that comes afterward if I know the couple is 'meant to be'? The phrase never seems to be thrust into a story in which the two amicably break up and proceed to happily date the neighbors.
Nope, it's always done in stories that end with the couple blissfully married and popping out "the beautiful, lovely, incredible precious child born of their never-ending love." I like to think the kid later turns out to be a deranged serial killer. Keeps my blood sugar firmly in check.
Don't give me an argument that your pairing is 'meant to be'. Give me an argument that the two characters have similar personalities, or that they have great chemistry, or that you'd just really like them to screw each other blind in fifteen different positions on top of the dining room table right after Thanksgiving in view of the whole freaking family.
'Meant to be' is not an argument that two characters should be together, 'meant to be' is a sincere hope by a fan that two characters, in the end, will be together in a loving, lasting relationship. It's nice that you think your favorite OTP is 'meant to be'. Now tell me why.
(By the way, I'm totally exempting romance novels from this rant. I'm not reading romance novels for the love story, I'm reading it for the softcore porn. Hey, at least I'm honest.)
********
Bryan and I have always had a deal when it comes to Christmas presents. We go to the mall, we pick out what we want, we buy it for the other one, and we just give it to them right then and there. Maybe it's a bit stupid, but it staves off our horrible impatience by at least giving us one or two presents to hold us over until Christmas finally comes.
Oh, and we also tend to spy for one another when it comes to what "Santa" is bringing. Yes, it ruins the surprise. We know this.
But both of us HATE surprises. We'd much rather express our excitement on Christmas morning by grinning madly and cooing while secretly thinking, "Thank God! I finally get to play with my new toy!"
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-29 12:43 am (UTC)I do sympathize.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-29 05:38 am (UTC)So far this month, my car is dying, my job still hasn't hired me on permanent yet they keep asking me if I'll come in more, my computer went on the fritz and completely ruined me for other computers, I spent two looooooong weeks waiting for my AlphaSmart to arrive so that I might actually be able to work on my story, I'm going to throw something at the next person who thinks they're being cute by asking me how many words I've got, and now I'm here in Pennsylvania, otherwise known as the Land of Can't Do Shit Without A Car.
*headwallheadwallheadwall*