Sunday, January 19, 2014

Sunday means Sherlock!

looks like something i would make…

I know. I’ve already seen this series of Sherlock, but I’ll be watching it when it airs on PBS any way.

And quite honestly, it feels weird to not be watching a BBC live stream today, right now, as a matter of fact.

It sucks big hairy wanger that we only get three episodes.

They’re talking about rushing the next series out, with the possibility of a Christmas episode, but despite my bitching about the “fix-it” fics, I want the hiatus to last longer.

(OMG. What the fuck did I just say?!?!)

No. Seriously.

There was something beautiful about the last hiatus, but maybe that was because I came in during the middle of it? The amount of creativity, passion, and crazy - we see it all the time in the Supernatural fandom’s reactions to the Hellatus, but there’s something very different about the Sherlockians, especially when they’re SuperLockians or SuperWhoLockians - was mind blowing. I’ll know we’ll get past this round of fix-its and missing scenes and OT3 PWP. (My Dog, there are a lot of people writing that!), and things will be all rainbows and kittens again.

And that’s the part I want to experience.

——

I don’t really like chocolate.

I haven’t been near a box of Russell Stover chocolates since my father and I left my mother when I was 14 / 15 years old.

Someone gave us a box for Christmas and I broke down and opened it today.

Damn, if they’re not the best tasting things I’ve ever put into my mouth.

——

I have tomorrow off - a paid holiday, no less - and I’m really bummed.

I don’t want to be home alone on a Monday again.

It makes me think things… bad things…

Like this new job is just a dream and when I wake up on Monday to stay home, I’ll realise that.

I keep looking at my University ID badge and smiling. And then I have to touch it to prove it’s really real.

Unless that’s part of the dream, too.

I mean, I do look damn good in the photo.

When the Regional Director of Finance told me I had 365 days of paid vacation, I thought he was joking…

Glad to see that it wasn’t a joke.

 

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Three day weekend!

my life since june 2013

Ah… whenever I think I can’t love my job more, it gets better.

Yesterday, I got an event staff badge. That gives me free rein to walk around the arena when there’s something going on. Tonight, I have comp tickets for the BU game - mostly so J can come with me. In the future, though… WOO-HOO!

The finance staff went out to lunch yesterday and we had a blast. I really love those guys.

Making it even better? When the passes and ID badge holders were passed out, we got a pin with the company’s motto and university’s logo. As those were given to us, we were told the job required 17 pieces of flair. The three of us started to laugh, which made me wicked happy. Of course, I’m the oldest one, and probably the most experienced one, but I don’t care - especially since I’m going to take over my boss’s job. (There’s about a two year turnover, practically corporate dictated. I’m serious. Everyone has an eye on their particular prize, and oddly, it doesn’t cause ShortTimer’s. It’s weird to work in a place where it’s OK to talk about leaving if a position opens… but it’s also very cool to be open about where you want to go and what you want to do.)

I found my people. FINALLY. After two failed temping attempts and two failed full-time jobs…

——

Oh, fan fiction, you’re killing me.

30 days of Johnlock: filled with ideas, but I can’t get them out of my head and onto the page.

30 days of Marlas: no ideas, no inspiration

New Johnlock: started, outlined, stopped

NaNo Johnlock: about ready to search it for good, reusable bits and then trash it

Other people’s Johnlock: I AM SO SICK OF THE FIX-IT TAG, I WANT TO PUNCH A KITTEN. While this new series was all fan service (really, you can’t watch it and not think differently), it was kind of lacklustre and there were parts where it needed to be fixed. But fixing it doesn’t mean the vast amounts of crap I’ve been subjected to. Yeah, it would have been nice if there had been the grand sweeping gesture on the tarmac. Yeah, it would have been nice if there were drunken shenanigans. But, it’s like every single fan fic in my RSS feed is the same exact story. (Because it’s Johnlock, those missing scenes are required by law. I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.)

This isn’t new to the fandom, either. I’ve stopped reading Post-Reichenbach tagged stories because they all follow the same plot: Sherlock fakes his jump, comes back, John punches him, they fall into bed. The end.

It’s old, it’s tired… it’s boring. (Said in a Moriarty voice. Obviously.)

As I’ve mentioned before, a friend talked me into reading Drarry fan fic. There’s so much more variety in those - although, I suppose that as I explore that world more, I’ll get bored, too.

In the meantime, I’ve read one where a time-turner like thing puts 17 year old Draco into 21 year old Harry Potter’s world. A world where Harry and Draco are together and little Draco can’t accept that… until he does. It’s both bittersweet and ridiculously funny. And annoyingly not finished.

My favourite one, so far, is a story that takes place after the War and the fall of Voldemort. In it, Draco has escaped persecution for his war crimes and has become a hermit with anxiety and depression. He’s also an author who has written this autobiographical best seller about his remorse for what he’s done (under a pseudonym, of course). He and Harry bump into each other at a masquerade ball and there’s instant connection between the two men and the story plays off the fact that they’re not aware of who the other one is beautiully. The story tells the tale of how they learn who the other is, their relationship, and how the past finally catches up to Draco. It’s a WIP, and I hope it ends well, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t.

——

I need to finish Sara’s socks and then tell her I’m not coming back to the gym. Ever. As much as I liked working out, as much as I wanted to succeed at a GORUCK Challenge, it’s not financially feasible and I can see both my commute and the job getting in the way. I already don’t have the energy to do much when I get home. The idea of having to find the energy to work out is painful. It sucks, but sacrifices need to be made, and that’s the easiest one. Just like when I had to give up fencing. Twice.

Shit happens. If the past year has taught me anything, I’m strong enough to roll with it. It may not be pleasant, and it may be hard to roll at times, but I can do it. I have done it…

Depression lies, and I’m done listening to the crap it whispers in my ear. Done, I say!

The pay off? I’m very zen at work. VERY zen. It’s not like me to be so happy and chill at work… and maybe that will change, but for now, it’s coming in handy and helping me make my mark on the Finance department.

Life is good. Very good.

 

Thursday, January 16, 2014

*happy sigh*

*snickers*

I don’t even know what to say…

Bear with me - this is going to be all over the place, but I can’t contain my excitement.

I was copied on an email yesterday that said that I was invited to go to some big finance meeting with the athletics department of the university I’m based at / work at.  They’re not inviting the other staff accountant. I don’t know what this means, but I am fucking excited as fuck.

I love my boss - he’s young, and he’s struggling, but he’s a lot of fun… although right now, I’m not sure who is teaching who. We’re bouncing a lot of ideas off of each other. He has the experience in the industry / with the company, but I have the fresh eyes, and I’m not afraid to question him. “What is this? Where does it come from? Why is it billed like that?”

Yesterday, I told him that if I’m annoying him, he could feel free to spank me.

I meant slap, but this is right up there with telling the misogynist arsehole at the other job that I needed to turn off my vibrator.

Fuck. I really need to remember to turn on my internal censor when I walk into the office.

Speaking of fuck—I actually said it and then apologised for saying it.

I was told, point blank, that I’m not allowed to apologise.

Apparently, it is quite al-fucking-right to pepper our sentences with f-bombs. At varying volumes.

Fucking sweet!

I thought I was working for another building that the company managed, but right now I’m working on both buildings and I’m loving it.

A lot of it has a lot to do with the fact that we’re backlogged and trying to close two months at a time, he needs to train me and there’s not enough work for me to do independently of him.

And while I’m talking about being independent, there wasn’t enough room in the finance office for a third desk, so I’m outside in a cube. I was joking that since there’s three of us and the boys have a nice office, I feel like they should a put a big “no girls allowed” sign on the door. I feel distanced and alone and that sucks, but I suppose it could be worse. I could be a few miles down the road in the other building.

And… while I’m talking about being based at the university and not the other building—I have a university ID card, and I have to get a university parking permit.

I honestly believe the universe knows what it’s doing and this is payback for all the shit I went through the past year…

Although it doesn’t *quite* make up for missing N’s wedding and the trip we were supposed to take to make up for not going to London in April.

You never know, though, maybe they’ll take over a building in the UK and relocate me…

 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

I hate the DMV

I have to go to the DMV tomorrow because I lost my car registration.

This is most annoying because:

1) I need it to receive a campus parking permit, which means I have to pay for parking

2) My registration expires in March and I don’t want to pay for a certified copy of one that expires in two months.

The only good thing in all this? I didn’t get pulled over the night my speedometer and tachometer froze.

I thought I was doing 25 MPH on the highway at that point but the engine was screaming at me to shift. I was confused because the tach only said 0. (Should have been a clue that something was seriously wrong. However, I forgot D.O.D.‘s main rule of driving: remove head, insert key.  Whoops.)  In my defence, the traffic had been stop and go so 25 seemed totally reasonable. It wasn’t until after I shifted that I realised I was pretty fucked. One of the best things my never ending road trips have ever done for me is give me an excellent relationship with my car. Seriously. I can tell when I’m doing over 65 and it’s abundantly clear when I’m doing over 75. Once I realised that the speedo and tach were frozen in place (literally frozen), I calmed down and started to let my car tell me what to do.

By the time the needles returned to where they belonged, I was holding steady at 65. Exactly.

It’s probably best that I was able to do that… Could you imagine the conversation if I got pulled over?

“Do you know how fast you were going?” “Honestly? I have no fucking idea. Literally.”

In the words of River Song: Spoilers

Taken as a whole, the three episodes of this series were a ridiculous amount of fan service with a nice undercurrent of love/loyalty/mystery running through it. Even the finale was relatively satisfying - which I wasn’t expecting. And we got more Mama and Papa Cumberbabe!!!!

BUT

There are no tears here, unless they’re tears of outrage.

Because…

FUCKING MOFFAT

*throws things*

*stomps angrily around room*

There’s an ever growing complaint in the WhoLock fandom that Moffat couldn’t write a strong, interesting woman if his life depended on it. (As much as I love Amy Pond and River Song he did them huge disservices as a show runner on Who. And don’t even get me started on the waste of space that was Clara.)

*throws more things*

He gives Mary this wonderful - absolutely fucking amazing - back story.

Like *BOOM* mind blowing back story…

and then what does he do?

He completely fucks it up.

COMPLETELY.

*stomps around room some more*

*does best velociraptor impersonation*

*scares dogs with screams of rage*

*throws even more things*

John forgave her for having this nefarious past. Doesn’t even want to know who she was. (Mary Morstan is not her real name, although I had that pegged when Sherlock deduced that she was a liar. I also knew that Mofftiss was “expanding” on ACD canon with some of their own head canon. So, again, not a huge surprise.)

She had the potential to be completely fascinating and amazing and wonderful and and and and and…

HE TURNED HER BACK INTO A WEAK WOMAN WHO IS DEFINED BY A FUCKING MAN.

Seriously.

If we turned “How many times was she referred to as ‘Mary Watson’” into a drinking game, we’d all be pretty shitfaced.

WE KNOW SHE MARRIED JOHN WATSON, SHITHEAD. YOU DON’T NEED TO KEEP REMINDING US THAT SHE IS JOHN’S WIFE.

(For the record, one of the reasons I didn’t take J’s last name is because it’s not mine. I’m not losing my name, my identity, because I got married. Sorry. I don’t play that game. I think it’s fine if other women want to take their husband’s name, but I have a ridiculously strong sense of self, which apparently manifests itself in Borderline Personality Disorder and my “inability to accept” that I got married by “not acknowledging what that truly means and bowing to societal norms”. Or some bullshit like that. I have the file somewhere from when I changed doctors…  (Um, since I’m raging anyway: FUCK YOU, USELESS SHRINK!) )

*looks around for more things to throw*

*ends up shaking fist and screaming MOOOOFFFATTTT! as loud as possible*

*scares dogs again*

*gets look of death from J*

I can’t even… I was expecting a case of feels on a level with the Reichenfeels, but all I got was an empty feeling that everything they had built to was solved by just another fucking weak ass deus ex machina moment.

Mark Gatiss, for the love of all that is good and holy, KEEP MOFFAT AWAY FROM SHERLOCK! Bounce ideas off of him all you want, but DO NOT LET HIM WRITE ANOTHER EPISODE THAT HAS MARY MORSTAN IN IT. OR ANY OTHER INTERESTING FEMALE CHARACTER.

Let him continue to fuck up Who. The NewWhovians already hate his guts, so - you know, let’s just embrace the status quo.

(Oh, and actually, that whole Sherlock’s girlfriend thing? I’m fine with MOST of it because it is canon, but her last minute ‘double cross’? LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. LAME. She, too, had the capability to be more than she was. More that just a punchline to a fandom that knows ACD canon.)

I can’t even get on tumblr right now. It’s either going to be six shades of ugly or a thousand flavours of rainbows and kittens and I can’t deal with either.

*curls up on couch in ball and reads more Drarry fan fiction because it’s not pissing me off like the new round of “fix-it” Sherlock fic is*