Don’t Judge a Thing by it’s Fandom

Recently, I was listening to a podcast by a friend of mine, in which she and her husband discuss pop culture tidbits and other awesomeness. I enjoy listening to podcasts to and from work, because it makes the drive go by faster and it makes me feel like I have friends in the car (it gets lonely, guys).

In the episode that I listened to the other day, though, my friend’s husband was discussing a book that he wrote (props to him, man) in which the main villain was an evil doctor. Because of this, he was referred to as The Doctor throughout the book, which caused a lot of negative feedback from people who are super fans of Doctor Who.

Now, fans of Doctor Who, or Whovians, are a special kind of fan, in that they are obsessive to the point of crazy, and highly defensive of negative ideas or portrayals of pretty much any character from the show (even villains can cause a soft spot in Doctor Who – Whovian life is not always black and white).

Because of this obsessiveness, I can completely see people taking his story the wrong way, being offended that the villain is called The Doctor (“How dare you use that name for someone evil!”), and hurt by the fact that he didn’t know that in Doctor Who, the main character is referred to as The Doctor, which is common knowledge for people who have see the show (but not common knowledge for anyone else).

Doctor-Who-Matt-Smith.-co

Original photo co. BBC
Also, I just re-watched “Dinosaurs on a Spaceship”, and I absolutely love this line.

Now, I personally identify with Whovians, because I love a good story (and they really are fantastic in Doctor Who), but I can also see where he was coming from. Fans of Doctor Who can be crazy, and that can be a huge turn off.

I myself was hesitant to start watching Doctor Who at first, because I knew people who were so crazy in love with the show that I couldn’t imagine it to be that good, and I would only end up disappointed. I’ve been burned by crazy fans before (a former roommate told me to read Twilight, because “the story is kind of lame, but the writing isย really good”. Lies.), and I wasn’t really looking to put myself out there for a show that I wasn’t already attached to.

So I get it – crazy fans are crazy, and they can easily turn people off of a show, movie, comic, book, whatever. It’s a fine line being a fan of something. You have to ease people into it, like ย stepping into a hot bath – dip their toes with a clip or two, and hope that it is comfortable enough for them to want to slip in.

The thing about fandoms is, people are always going to be fanatical about them. That’s the point – they love this thing so much that they can’t help but want to push it onto you too – they want to share their wonder with the people around them, so they can wonder together.

But shows are not the fandom – the boy who builds his own life-size dalek, the couple who have a Star Trek wedding at Comic Con, or the girl who writes erotic fanfiction of Supernatural and tries to publish it – they are not a representative of the thing itself, or even the fandom. They are the extremes.

So please, don’t judge a thing by it’s fandom – you could be missing out on something life-changing.

Advertisements

Shit That People I Hate On Facebook Say

So, for my job, I manage my company’s many Facebook pages. We have a company profile page to log into to manage these pages (it’s just a person page named after our company), and sometimes stupid people friend us instead of liking the page (don’t ask me why).

I tend to troll trough the news feed of these people looking for articles to link or whatever. Occasionally, though, I come across something that someone says that is so irritating that I feel the need to punch someone or smash my head on my desk. To make myself feel better, I’ve started collecting their inane words so others can see the obnoxious stupidity that prevails in my life.

Warning: These may make you angry (if you are a decent human being. If you aren’t then you probably agree with these people and wonder why I would point out their status updates as strange).

Being gay is a sexual choice, not a race of people.

This same person later said:

Teaching your children to be racist is a form of child abuse.

Apparently teaching your children to hate homosexuals is not.

People always say thing like I barley go on or I’m deleting my FB or accounts of any kind but why don’t they tell the truth I know have Those time but wtf

I honestly couldn’t tell you what this is supposed to say. I spent a good three minutes rereading it, and all I can tell is this person hates grammar, spelling, and people who complain about social media.

Omg u kno whts gr8? When ur happy

It hurt to type this out.

Anyone have a remidy to stop pucking and shitting at the same time.

That’s not English, and anything with a spellchecker on it would have at least made the spelling proper.

So, yes. I just wanted to share with the world the awful things that I have to deal with on a fairly regular basis, both at work and in my free time. Spelling properly is not that hard, people, especially when everyone’s phone/computer/Google glasses* have spell check.

*I’m actually not sure if Google glasses have a spell check, but I feel like they should, right?

The Story of How He Did It

So, as most of my friends and family know, my man-friend and I recently became engaged. After five years of dating, it’s less of a shock and more of a relief for most people, removing the unknown “when?” from everyone’s minds when they think about us.

Now that I’ve mostly adjusted to wearing a new ring (and rearranging my other rings to accommodate the new sparkly), I’m able to give everyone what they’ve been waiting – and asking impatiently – for since it happened; The Story.

It started with a phone call after work. I was on my way home, and my man-friend called me up to ask me if I wanted to go out to a local bistro that happens to be a particular favorite of ours (and not just because his sister works there and sometimes gets us free stuff).

His reasoning? “I didn’t feel like cooking dinner, and we haven’t been out in a while.” Both logical reasons, because:

  1. Due to our schedules, he gets home before me most days, and therefore he is usually the one to make dinner (and it sucks to have to do that every day, so I don’t blame him for wanting a day off) and
  2. We are trying to save our money to be able to pay off our student loans early, so we rarely go out to dinner.

Of course I agreed, because who doesn’t like to go out to dinner? So when I got home, we put the dog away and immediately left, meaning that we were both in our nice work clothes (perfect timing on his part, if I do say).

We got to the restaurant (Spoiler alert: He doesn’t do it during dinner), and we sat in his sister’s section so we could chat with her for a bit. We had delicious bread, delicious dinner, delicious drinks – honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything bad here, so it’s always a good place to go. We laughed and talked and had a general good time (*salutes* General Good Time).

Afterwards, my man-friend suggested that we go for a walk around the lake to help us burn some calories. We had been trying to eat better and exercise more, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

We went over to the lake, and it was a little chilly, so no one was there – it was just the two of us walking around.

He started to act a little weird as we were walking, pointing out a dog across the water and ducks up ahead and things like that. He just kept jumping from subject to subject, which was unusual, to say the least. He also had his left hand in his pocket the whole time, which meant that he was pointing with his right hand. That was weird because we usually hold hands when we walk around (shut up, we’re cute), and we couldn’t because of all of the pointing.

I told him that I wish I had grabbed his jacket, because it was getting a little too chilly for me (I was in short sleeves), and he stopped and said he had a surprise for me. He asked me if I wanted it now, and since I had put the nervousness and the pointing and the hand-in-the-pocket together, I knew what was happening and said yes.

He pulled out the ring, and before he had a chance to get down on his knee (or even get the question out), I grabbed him in a big hug and started tearing up. He asked me, and I couldn’t get a response out for a while, because emotions. Finally he said, “I’m so nervous!” So I got out a yes, and he pulled away so I could actually see the ring (I only saw it briefly before the hug and the crying happened).

ring

It’s beautiful.
Also, he picked out the ring himself. He told me later that he was going to get a different one, but he saw this one and knew. ๐Ÿ™‚

We hugged, we kissed, he was relieved, I forgot about being cold. It was amazing.

After that, we had the enormous task of telling our parents, siblings, grandparents, etc. Some we could tell in person, some got texts or phone calls, but eventually everyone heard about it that night.

Except for my mother.

See, she had chosen that week to go on a cruise, and didn’t have her phone turned on due to being in international waters and ridiculous charges and the like. I sent her pictures of us and the ring, but she did not get them until three days later when her boat came back to the country, which meant that we weren’t able to put anything on Facebook (the keeper of all of the knowledge) until then, because I didn’t want her to find out through social media. That kind of thing is okay for friends and extended family, not really okay for parents.

Finally she got back and found out, and finally we were able to put it up on Facebook, and finally we were able to make the small part of the world that we live in explode in congratulations and happy dances in public. It was no lip synced dancing video, or video with Zach Braff, or photographed event, but it was us, and it was wonderful.

Bow Ties are Cool

Sometimes, my sister and I have awesome conversations that should be shared with the world. And sometimes, I’m really funny and want people to know about it.

No, she is not normally put into my phone as "Seester", but since she is my seester, I figured it would be fine.

No, she is not normally put into my phone as “Seester”, but since she is my seester, I figured it would be fine.

Seriously, you should take the time to Google women in bow ties. It is not a good look for anyone involved, I’m sorry to say.

Literary Desires

Have you ever had one of those moments in books where you get the overwhelming DESIRE to do something described in what you’re reading? I’m not talking about some food that sounds good (although that totally happens – the Turkish Delight fromย The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? Sounds delicious in the book! In real life, it’s basically just nasty covered in powdered sugar, and I am not the only one who feels this way.)

I’m talking about an itching need to do something you read about – something you would never do in real life, but you can imagine yourself doing it in a past life, and crave the feeling again.

Recently I was reading Dorothy Allison’s Bastard out of Carolina, where she describes a whole family of people who drink and chew tobacco and do all sorts of things that you would expect a family of hillbillies to do, and I got the urge to do something that I have never in my life wanted to do: smoke a cigarette.

The way she describes it, it just sounded so comforting and normal, ย like it was something you would naturally do (which is true for a lot of people, I guess). I was shocked at my urge to smoke a cigarette, because I come from not only a family of non-smokers, but a family that is heavy into the medical field (I have a lot of nurses in my family). I know that if I ever started smoking, I would get bombarded with factoids, pictures and other paraphernalia that is used to scare smokers into quitting. It’s never really been an option to me, and even at my most rebellious (which, lets face it, was nowhere near rebellious), I would never have even considered starting to smoke.

To me, it is a sign of an excellent writer that they can spark such natural desire in a reader to do something so uncharacteristic.