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Mar. 1st, 2008 09:11 amSo, I did get the sweet and sour chicken and crab rangoon. And potstickers. And fried rice. Well, I didn't eat much for lunch...
R also ordered in; he got the Fornellos special. Fornellos is a local place, literally "down the block", right next to Byron's. They do a special, $20 for an extra-large "tavern style" pizza (thin crust, very little sauce, cut in squares) with six toppings. He ordered two. I woke up this morning and there was only half a one left. But one of his pals, Michael, was also asleep on our sofa after their Karaoke night, so I'm assuming he did his part in demolishing the Fornellos. Michael's cool; he dresses like he stepped out of a speakeasy and does the most amazing Sinatra impression I've ever heard. As I was raised on swing and the Rat Pack, we get on swimmingly.
I woke up this morning and the tiny headache from yesterday turned into a blinding one, so I took a hot shower and a Vicodin. I haven't had to take one in months and I probably should have only taken a half; in my bad days I used to take two and forgot you can build up a tolerance for them, which I've since lost. The headache is gone but I'm feeling more than good, so in about half an hour I imagine I'll be flying. Time to go lie down and study the universe for a while.
I have a couple of essays on Fandom I'm still working on, because I can't seem to hammer them out without sounding like an ass, but one of the simpler ones is about identification and performance as a coping mechanism. Especially with my latest Torchwood obsession, it's become clear that I choose my fandoms based on individuals I can become -- Mulder when I was the moody adolescent, Giles when I was an undergrad exploring the world of the mind, Vimes when I was lonely and isolated, Lupin when I was a teacher, House when I was angry at the whole fucking world, and now Ianto because while I've always been an extremely good assistant, now it's my job and the ethic he represents (which is encapsulated in an excellent fic here) is one that helps to make the adjustment.
The only constant has been Ellis, really, and reading back through the earliest fic I still have I see prototypes of him already strong and growing. The other day I read the first short story I ever wrote and found him, under another name, narrating it. Which was a shocker, let me tell you. Ellis is not someone I identify with in the same sense of the others; I think he's in many ways who I want to become, and also someone I can slip into when I'm unsure of a piece and don't want Sam to be the one who gets rejected if it's crap. Because it's easy to ignore someone who says it's crap but it's better to listen and judge openly, and that's very hard to do when it's your talent and ideas on the line.
Part of me says that all this makes me incredibly fucked in the head, but another part of me, the scholarly part, says that it's a natural way of relating myself to the world in an age where media attempts to dictate who we should be, what we should look like, and how we should spend our money.
I invite you to look at your fandoms and see if you do the same thing; that's not to say everyone does, but I'd be interested to hear from those who do (and those who don't, as well).
*rereads* Yeah. If I were sober those last four paragraphs would not have been writ aloud. Have fun, kids; I'm going to run off and become fascinated with my own ceiling.
R also ordered in; he got the Fornellos special. Fornellos is a local place, literally "down the block", right next to Byron's. They do a special, $20 for an extra-large "tavern style" pizza (thin crust, very little sauce, cut in squares) with six toppings. He ordered two. I woke up this morning and there was only half a one left. But one of his pals, Michael, was also asleep on our sofa after their Karaoke night, so I'm assuming he did his part in demolishing the Fornellos. Michael's cool; he dresses like he stepped out of a speakeasy and does the most amazing Sinatra impression I've ever heard. As I was raised on swing and the Rat Pack, we get on swimmingly.
I woke up this morning and the tiny headache from yesterday turned into a blinding one, so I took a hot shower and a Vicodin. I haven't had to take one in months and I probably should have only taken a half; in my bad days I used to take two and forgot you can build up a tolerance for them, which I've since lost. The headache is gone but I'm feeling more than good, so in about half an hour I imagine I'll be flying. Time to go lie down and study the universe for a while.
I have a couple of essays on Fandom I'm still working on, because I can't seem to hammer them out without sounding like an ass, but one of the simpler ones is about identification and performance as a coping mechanism. Especially with my latest Torchwood obsession, it's become clear that I choose my fandoms based on individuals I can become -- Mulder when I was the moody adolescent, Giles when I was an undergrad exploring the world of the mind, Vimes when I was lonely and isolated, Lupin when I was a teacher, House when I was angry at the whole fucking world, and now Ianto because while I've always been an extremely good assistant, now it's my job and the ethic he represents (which is encapsulated in an excellent fic here) is one that helps to make the adjustment.
The only constant has been Ellis, really, and reading back through the earliest fic I still have I see prototypes of him already strong and growing. The other day I read the first short story I ever wrote and found him, under another name, narrating it. Which was a shocker, let me tell you. Ellis is not someone I identify with in the same sense of the others; I think he's in many ways who I want to become, and also someone I can slip into when I'm unsure of a piece and don't want Sam to be the one who gets rejected if it's crap. Because it's easy to ignore someone who says it's crap but it's better to listen and judge openly, and that's very hard to do when it's your talent and ideas on the line.
Part of me says that all this makes me incredibly fucked in the head, but another part of me, the scholarly part, says that it's a natural way of relating myself to the world in an age where media attempts to dictate who we should be, what we should look like, and how we should spend our money.
I invite you to look at your fandoms and see if you do the same thing; that's not to say everyone does, but I'd be interested to hear from those who do (and those who don't, as well).
*rereads* Yeah. If I were sober those last four paragraphs would not have been writ aloud. Have fun, kids; I'm going to run off and become fascinated with my own ceiling.
