Tempered Fragility

The Mayfly Project

Stopped taking my anti-depressants. Moved back home. Turned twenty-one. Isolated again, but happier alone. Purple - Britt, forever. Passed my course! Bring it on, 2009.

2006
2007

So, I’ve had a secret for the last few days. Some people know, and are excited about it. Some people know, and totally aren’t excited about it; those people are never being told a secret in advance EVER AGAIN.

And, of course, some people don’t know and are going to be really, really mad about it. Like, disowning their niece mad about it, right after making sure said niece has no option but to bus it down to St. Kilda and whore herself out to survive.

Which is why I’m only posting about it now.

Say hello to Rissa.

I saved her from a gutter one cold, windy day last week. She is a long-haired tortoiseshell, perfectly healthy, and has already been wormed, vaccinated and vet-checked. She lives in the back end of the house, unlike my mother’s cat, and is adorably friendly until you make a sudden movement.

Be gentle, oh-so-charming uncle of mine, king of all the lands, sir.

The Twilight movie came out recently.

I am not planning to see the Twilight movie. I avert my eyes and block my ears if I happen to see an advertisement for the Twilight movie. When people blog about it, I scroll past pictures of the Twilight movie. In fact, I treat it much the same as I do the Harry Potter movies: I ignore it.

I would be far happier if J.K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer hadn’t sold out¹.

I don’t hate movies, not at all. I love movies. It’s just that, as far as I’m concerned, there are no good book-to-movie adaptations, if one has read the book being adapted. I have never seen a movie that does a book justice. Even if a book is (technically) not fantastic, if it captures the imagination and carries a plot well, the movie version will not even come close to portraying a book’s brilliance.

And yet, people flock to the cinemas. They pay to have their fantasy world, so carefully constructed in their head, torn to pieces by the often-conflicting image on the big screen. Why? I have no idea. Books are open to interpretation; a good book will have several possible readings. There is no possible way for a movie crew to take all of those views into account when making a movie.

That doesn’t explain why Harry Potter (he of the messy black hair and green eyes) was played by Daniel Radcliffe (he of the neat brown hair and blue eyes) in The Philosopher’s Stone². It does, however, explain why the images on Twilight posters don’t match the images I have in my head of Bella and Edward³.

It also explains why I enjoyed The Chronicles of Narnia and A Series of Unfortunate Events so much. I’ve never read either of them, so I had no image in my head of what the characters should look like. In fact, aside from the basic plot, I had no idea what to expect from either of them. If I were to read the books now, I imagine that the experience would be enriched by the movie visuals.

Unfortunately, it never works in reverse.

I don’t need to see the Twilight movie to know that I won’t enjoy it. Nothing in this world can match the view of Twilight that I see when I read the books; the posters I’ve (unfortunately) seen have proven that. Likewise, I won’t be dashing out to see Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, or Angus, Thongs and Perfect⁴ Snogging. I’m sure that people - most likely, people who haven’t read the books - will enjoy them, but I won’t be one of those people.

The best thing⁵ about book-to-movie adaptations is that they provide a whole new wave of enthusiasm for the actual book, meaning that people like Britt finally come to the dark side and read the book⁶ they’ve been boycotting for silly reasons like stereotypes and standards⁷.

Perhaps now is a good time to confess that I read a little too much young adult fiction.

I was considering something last night. Pondering, if you will.

When you meet someone - and by someone I mean someone you’re attracted to, obviously - you’re horrendously nervous around them. In fact, you’re more nervous around them than anyone else. Then you get to know them. You become friends, and - if you’re lucky, and you don’t have bad breath - the friendship evolves into something more, and suddenly you’re more comfortable around them than anyone else.

Which is fine, of course. Imagine if we didn’t become more comfortable around people as time went on. We’d all be walking around stammering and blushing and falling over things, just trying to converse with people in our everyday life. It would be uncomfortable and quite torturous. Still, there’s something to be said about nerves, and I’m going to say it: they make us better people.

In the beginning of a new romance or friendship, we’re better people than we usually are. We operate behind a social firewall that parses every word and action to make sure we’re behaving appropriately. Afterwards, in the privacy of our own home/room/box, we mull over what was said and done, trying to gauge our success. We want to impress the object of our desire, and so we work hard to amplify our good traits and hide the negative.

It works, for a while. Then the glow wears off, and you find out that your Prince Charming actually hates reading Jane Austen novels and going on picnics, and he looks downright scruffy when he doesn’t shave for three days, and he actually can’t kiss as well as you thought when you met him at 3am on Sunday morning–after he was introduced to you at a club as your best friend’s boyfriend’s cousin.

Not that the above has any reflection whatsoever on the state of my love life*, by the way.

I’m being lazy at the moment and sitting around in my pyjamas all day. I expect to get away with this until mid-February next year, and it is GLORIOUS. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have any more time than I used to; probably because I’m playing Guild Wars working on SQ’s Manual all day.

* No, seriously. My love life is non-existent. This is both a good thing, and a bad thing. I don’t have to take birth control any more, which is fantastic. I also don’t have a reason to take birth control any more, which isn’t so fantastic. Plus, you know, cuddling and shit. I’m trying not to be one of those single people, you know? The single people who are all, ‘Oh, I love being single!’ when really they hate it. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love it, either. It’s a weird kind of balance.

I gave a presentation on self-publishing today, and I ROCKED it. People were engaged, they were interested, they asked questions. Melanie came to see me in the library afterwards, and told me that it was fantastic, that I don’t have to worry about my grade. Since the presentation counts for 20% of our mark, it’s an understatement to say I was thrilled.

We received our major editing projects back, along with plenty of comments. I got a DI; not the HD I was hoping for, but much better than the CR I was expecting. Apparently, it does help to set the bar low. I did the proofreading exam, too; not saying how I went on that until the results are in front of me. Regardless, I will pass Editing, and that’s good enough for me. Next year is when the marks really count.

I still have a bit of homework to finish, but it’s rapidly diminishing. I’m surprised, to be honest, by how easy it has been to ignore the internet and get my work done; the internet ban must have worked. Next year will be completely different in terms of organisation, though. I’ve learnt so many little tricks this year, especially about how to organise and motivate myself to do school work.

This weekend is all SQ (Samhain Festival FTW!) and homework, but as of next Tuesday? I’ll be back at WB with a VENGEANCE. I’ll also be revealing a new website design, and adding at least one new page to SQ’s manual everyday. I’m excited about the time off, but as much as I joke about sleeping and lazing around doing nothing, I’m actually looking forward to doing what I want to do.

Right now, though, it’s back to cleaning, homework, and Universal Soldier.

I win at multi-tasking.

So, November is upon us and my inbox is flooded with e-mails: NaNoWriMo! NaBloPoMo! Write more in November! Take a deep breath, everyone. Relax. I GOT THE MESSAGE. ALL TWENTY OF THEM.

I’m not participating. November marks the end of the school year for me, and is traditionally a time where I procrastinate by playing games do lots of schoolwork to make sure I pass finish out the year. There’s no way I can post every month. I’ve already faltered, and it’s only the sixth! So, I decided to give it a miss this year. No 50,000 word novel, no failed promises, no guilt or pressure. Instead, I’m going to finish my classes and begin my holidays, doing what I want to do. If it involves writing, great. If not, too bad.

More than likely, it will involved sleeping, copious amounts of Coke and Mentos, and lots of doing nothing.

P.S - I only have three classes left! Squee!

I channel hopped like a fiend this afternoon, trying to keep up with the US Election results. I sat in front of the damn TV with my laptop, glued to it all afternoon, not even doing homework. I despaired over lost states, rejoiced over the good ol’ blue areas, and cheered out loud when states converted. After several hours, I went to pick up the kids - reasoning that it would be at least an hour before the official result was announced - and by the time I got back, Obama had owned McCain.

I missed it. The most important moment of the entire election, and I missed it(1).

Despite that, I still cried when I found out. President Obama. It seems almost unreal to me, that the Americans learned from their mistakes and elected someone who appears to genuinely want change, someone who appears strong, decisive and capable. I don’t agree with all of Obama’s policies, but I agree with most of them. Perhaps more importantly, I agree with the messages he is sending, about the United States, about the world, about people. I believe in him.

Up until a few months ago, I didn’t really see a reason to care. I didn’t get it. Now, I do. I GET IT. I understand that each and every person who voted in this election helped bring about a change that will someday be in history books. I understand that although a lone voice can be easily silenced, when a large group of people speak at once, they are heard. I care, because Australia is the pampered bichon frise sitting on America’s knee. We need their firepower, their trade, their support - and America knows it.

So, I care about who extends the hand that feeds Australia. Not only that, but I suddenly care about who’s running my country, my state, my local council. I feel the need to inform myself, to learn about who exactly ‘they’ are, those nameless people who control my life, my freedom, my money. The 2008 US Presidential Election has finally awakened my interest in politics(2). I understand now why America is so caught up with patriotism. I was so proud, so happy, so relieved; politics really can bring people together.

Well done, America, and thanks for voting.

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(1) Thank god for cable TV, 24hr news channels, Twitter and YouTube.
(2) It’s actually all Sarah Palin’s fault. Really.