addiction · books · Drarry · fanfiction · Fun · happy · Harry Potter · Internet · nerd · reading · Sherlock Holmes · slash · Sookie Stackhouse · True Blood

Fan-fiction Has Stolen My Brain

I am not sure exactly when, but sometime before Christmas, I began reading Harry Potter fan-fiction online. Primarily, Drarry  and other slash fictions. And I’ve not stopped since. My brain, my life, my time, has been taken over… Love-fan-fiction

I hear some of you asking “WTH is she talking about? Slash? Drarry?” In fandom terms, Slash is “a type of fic, often written by women, involving romantic or sexual involvement between two characters of the same gender. The term originates from early Star Trek fandom, namely “Kirk/Spock” stories — the term “slash” comes from the slash (/) placed between the names of the characters involved”.  Drarry is the pairing of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, combining their names.

What, exactly is the point of all of this? I have no idea. As I said, my brain has been invaded, stolen, by fan-fics. I’m alternately deeply enthralled by wonderful writing and great stories, some with truly excellent sex scenes, and highly annoyed by poor grammar, atrocious spelling and the worst romances I’ve seen. And I have read some bad romance novels in my time, people.

What amazes me each time I go onto FanFiction.net or Archive Of Our Own to look for new stories is how many are out there. How many people are writing about the things they love, creating worlds where the characters they love do all sorts of things. Where Sherlock and The Doctor have tea, or The Monkees hang out with Mozart. Worlds where the cast of Harry Potter interacts with the Twilight gang, or Sookie & Eric are running away from Buffy. True, some of the stories are awful, but that’s a risk you take when reading anything new. And I’m having fun. Isn’t that what matters?

Besides, I kinda like the idea of Sherlock & The Doctor being friends. Makes perfect sense to me…

 

anti-depressant · Anyone? · breast cancer · Bubble Meds · Bubble Wrap · cancer · exercise · Fun · Major Depression · medication · Michele · money · Oprah · Scientology · stress · Tom Cruise

I’m Not Tom Cruise. I’m Taller.


A few days ago in a post titled ‘Bubble Meds, Anyone?,‘ I stated that I detest anti-depressant medications. I got several rather obnoxious comments about this (which I have been deleted, because I don’t want hate here), all telling me how evil and stupid I am to not recognize the wonders that are done by these medications. One commenter even compared me to Tom Cruise ranting on Oprah!

Let me say right now that the only similarities between Tom Cruise & I are height. And a sofa.
Anti-depressants, and medications as a whole, are a good thing. I know lots of folks whose lives are vastly improved by their blend of prescription drugs. Heck, if it weren’t for the varied anti-seizure meds I’ve been on since I was 16, I’d not be able to function. It’s quite possible that without those medications I’d be dead now. These medications save lives. I know that.
My issue with anti-depressants in the past has been simply that I’ve not yet found one that works for me. And of course, I want the quick fix. I’m not a patient person when it comes to medications–I want my pain-killers & cough syrups to work NOW!!! When the happy pills didn’t make me happy as soon as I swallowed, well, I gave up. I was young, I had time to wait for the bad feelings to go away. It wasn’t a matter of strength, so much as patience & time.
I’m not that young anymore. Many, many things have changed since the last time I had an episode of major depression. Back then I was living with my parents, I had no one depending on me for anything, my health was much better, and my stress level was lower. Now I’m living with my fiance and we are trying to start a business, my health is not good (although my seizures are controlled!), I’m in charge of a household. (Yes, I am!)
Stress, well, stress is high. My best friend, Michele, who just came through breast cancer with a smile on her face has been sick for the last few months. Two weeks ago they found Stage Four cancer in her bone marrow, the bones on her back, and a spot on her lungs. She began chemo last week. I want to be there holding her hand right now, but don’t have the money for my passport, much less a plane ticket to Toronto, where she lives. (Her mom is there, so she has help.) But can you understand why my stress level just flew up?
Anyway. My point is that I do not have anything against these medications or the people who take them. I’m not looking for a quick fix this time; I’m willing to be patient.
But if Tom Cruise shows up, telling me all I need are vitamins & exercise to fix my depression, there’s gonna be one less Scientologist in the world.
Air Conditioning · camping · Fun · Summer · Swimming

Summertime Fun?

I have never been what you’d call an outdoorsy person, always preferring to stay indoors, or at least in the shade, with my book, while others are splashing in the pool, or tanning, camping & hiking. I’m perfectly happy to sit around the pool with a frosty beverage (preferably served by a hunky Bruce Willis look-alike!), chatting with friends, laughing at the girl who fell out of her bikini top, or talking about stupid movies we’ve seen. Here I’m comfy, happy, and seldom sweaty.

I’ve spent several summers without the advantages of air conditioning, and that doesn’t bother me much. Since I’m usually about 10 degrees colder than everyone else in the room, I actually prefer things a little warmer. (I wear socks & sweaters year-round, for pete’s sake!) So when someone says to me “Well, there are cool-weather camping & hiking spots,” I say “So what?”

I do not want to hike. I’ll walk to the bus stop, and from there to the bookstore, the library, the cafe, anywhere else I need to go. I’ll walk on the treadmill for my exercise, but I don’t like it! Walking is a form of transportation. If I want to know what’s at the top of that mountain, I’ll read National Geographic.

I do not want to camp. I am a human being living in America in the 21st Century; there is no need for me to live in a hut, to pee in the woods, to sleep on the ground. Unless you are Jeff Probst, and I’m gonna get a million bucks at the end, I don’t really want to play in the woods! And let’s be honest, 20 seasons of watching people suffer on Survivor hasn’t done a lot to change my mind.

Cement ponds are a whole other subject. I’m not a great swimmer, and in fact, my one big fear involves fast-moving water. I’m not scared of pools, though, just shopping for a swimsuit. I’d say it’s been five years since I’ve owned one; last summer, for my one foray into the pool, I wore shorts and a t-shirt! I can’t spend this entire summer on the sofa, and I like to be dressed appropriately, so I’ll be buying a swimsuit soon. I won’t like it, and may not even look at myself in those dressing room mirrors–I’m sure they’re circus castoffs!–but I will get in the water.

I still won’t hike, or sleep on the ground. But I’ll swim. So, can we shut up and have a summer now?