you definitely need a hand to hold
The best part of a new series of Doctor Who is the never-ending deluge of NewWho episodes in the days and nights leading up to the premiere. (Well, at any rate, it’s better than seeing a never-ending list of ST:TNG episodes in the TiVo menu.)
Tonight, we watched “Vincent and the Doctor”. (I’ve blogged about my love of this episode before.)
It’s kind of timely… for me at least. And here’s why:
Robin Wiliams committed suicide. It was all over the news. It sparked discussions about depression. Both good and bad.
Maybe you have to be clinically depressed/suicidal to understand why someone who seemingly had it all would kill themselves… but if you don’t, take a lesson from Eleven’s time with Van Gogh:
At the end of the episode, the Doctor brings Vincent to Paris in 2010 so that he can see the exhibit about his art. In front of Vincent, Eleven asks the curator his opinion on Van Gogh. The curator says, “To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”
Think about that for a minute.
One hundred and twenty years after he kills himself, Van Gogh is brought to Paris to see a celebration of his art, hears that he is the world’s greatest artist, and it isn’t enough for him. He still kills himself when he is returned to his own time. He still kills himself, fully aware of what people think of his art, of HIM, a century later.
Did you catch that, internet?
All the love and admiration in the world, and it wasn’t enough to free Van Gogh of his demons.
So why should Robin Williams be any different, huh?
(And yes, I know the difference between fiction and real life, but in this case? Not such a big stretch.)
my first (ukrainian) dictionary
It’s a lot harder to find Ukrainian language lessons than you’d think.
EVERYONE and their mother will teach you Russian - and there are a large percentage of Ukies who speak Russian - but I think we can all agree that if I’m going to go through all the trouble of learning a new language (WITH A NEW ALPHABET!), I’m learning the right one.
Besides, the Russians - and their language - can go fuck themselves.
I did find a few places where I can learn Ukie, and I’m just waiting on final quotes from both of them.
That Friend (you know… THAT one) had finally watched the Harry Potter films a few months ago and he had some of the best comments on it ever.
Like this really tame one: “Smack my bum, Harry. SMACK IT”
SO. I was telling him about my little Drarry fan fic (and of course, he’s not into slash, so he called me a few choice names), and it’s his birthday at the end of the week…
I found the perfect card!
The front has a picture of a typewriter and says: “My novel (if I write one) will be filled with wizards, unicorns, tornadoes, a time machine, talking dragons, a rainbow made out of candy, ninjas, and dancing robots. And of course, you.<3"
Saw my drug dealer today. Every visit I have to fill out a self-evaluation form (Am I suicidal? Do I hear voices? Am I eating?) and on their random scoring system, I dropped 16 points. I guess that’s a good thing because she was all like “WOO” and I was all like “What the fuck?”
And on that note - it’s time to go pack for the land of Dirty (dirty, dirty!) Hippies.
he’s one damn fine human being…
In case you can’t read that:
Amberly: I need this retweeted by you to show my family that being gay isn’t always something you choose. They think I’m broken. Please. @Markgatiss
Mark Gatiss: Not a choice @Amberly29519238 - a gift. Be happy and strong. x
(For those not in the know, although I have no idea how you can not know this if you’re a regular reader, Mark Gatiss (pronounced GAY-tiss, BTW) is a co-creator and writer on my beloved Sherlock (BBC). He’s also written for Doctor Who. And… he’s married. To a dude.)
This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this, and I totally adore him because of it.
It almost offsets the Moffat factor. But not by too much, since he still lets Moffat write episodes of Sherlock. *sigh*
In a more serious note, my divorcing friend pissed me off the other day.
I’d finally had enough and snapped at them via text.
Told them that they seriously needed to figure out how to rewire themselves. This default position of wanting to give up and/or threatening suicide (it’s really one and the same, isn’t it?), is old, is tired, and is not fair to those of us that love them.
I mean, seriously, I’m starting to feel that it’s a cry for attention. At any rate, it’s fucking obnoxious.
And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but it felt good to call them out on it.
I mean, me, of all people, saying something like that… to someone I feel is shattered beyond repair.
I’m an arsehole… I know that.
I haven’t heard from them since, and I’m (frighteningly) OK with that.
There has been too much drama, and despite my promises to tolerate it, and not walk away, I just can’t deal with it.
They wonder why they’re getting divorced…
If they could only read the texts they sent me from my point of view - or even their spouse’s - they’d see just what sort of damage they’re capable of inflicting and why we’re not willing to put up with it.
I offered to let them live with us because I felt like I was backed into a corner - suicide or a homeless shelter - and neither one is acceptable.
I shouldn’t have made the offer. Once things calmed down, it hit me hard what an amazingly terrible idea that is.
I can’t handle them from a distance… living with them has the potential to absolutely destroy me.
So now, I’m back where I started from - wanting to run as far as them as I possibly can, and needing to stay and support them as long as they make the right decision, of course.
Can’t stand by and support a dead person, can I?
In happier news, my boss absolutely loves me. He said as much yesterday.
I got my business cards. If that’s not a sign of permanence, I don’t know what is.
I got an official invite from the Department of Athletics to go to their monthly finance meeting. The other staff accountant didn’t, and he’s the one who is supposed to be working for them full time. I’m supposed to be working for the other building we manage, which is not affiliated with the University in any way, shape, or form.
It makes me wonder - especially since everything’s been so confused and fucked up because of the mess we were thrown into on day one - what my role actually is is. What I’m being groomed for. I have my ideas, of course, and they thrill me beyond belief.
I tell everyone who asks how much I love this job, and it’s the truth. I could not be happier. The universe certainly made up for fucking me over the past year.
I love it to the point that when BU played my employer last night. I was tempted to cheer for both teams. (I love both sets of boys - the school I was supposed to go to and the one that funds my paychecks.) Hockey East is getting more complicated…UConn, my employer, BU. Our neighbours in 114 are going to end up hating me next season. *grin*
And on that note, it’s time to look for a hack to my never ending external drive issue and get the power button on my MBP fixed.
Woo!!!! I am living it up today! Jealous?
this man is pure perfection, even at his dorkiest
What a crazy week.
It is hard to learn a new job when the person training you doesn’t know what they’re doing.
I don’t mean that in a ‘he’s stupid’ kind of way, but a ‘he walked into a completely fucked up situation that he was unprepared for and has no idea where to even start cleaning up the mess and oh my Dog, what the fuck do I do with this person sitting next to me chomping at the bit to do stuff?’ kind of way.
After three weeks, he’s made some major progress and I feel like I’ve learned enough to start doing stuff on my own. I spent all of Friday at my own desk working on the few things I know how to do. It was crappy data entry - two months of catch up for two different buildings - but it was GLORIOUS. I’ve never been so happy to just sit at a desk and endlessly type random crap like “0020-000-00” and “0037-002-00” a gazillion times.
Unlike the last jackwagon I worked for, he LOVES that I’m taking notes. Good notes. None of that “if you can’t understand this, you’re stupid” kind of shit.
I honestly do not know how I could possibly be any happier. (Outside of having this exact job in the UK, perhaps… but that’s not an option right now.)
Found out two good friends broke up last night. It breaks my heart.
Also spent the last two days texting with a friend who is getting a divorce. They’re not in a good place, and it’s not an exaggeration to say that I feel like I’m on suicide watch. I’ve been so careful with what I’ve been saying, but it’s exhausting to not let them have it with both barrels. I’m glad that - despite the amount I fell apart during my unemployment - I’m strong enough to be able to be here for them over the past two days. It hasn’t been easy and it kind of ruined my night out with Black Mountain Symphony last night, but that’s what friends do right?
However, it was an emotionally exhausting two days (so far - I’m currently being ignored again), and now I know why I internalise everything and don’t unload on friends.
Possibly related, my phone’s internal dictionary has decided to ignore the fact that it’s set to British English and seeing words spelt the American way is annoying. It’s starting to seriously fuck with my head.
I guess that’s a sign that my employer needs to move to England sooner rather than later…
I’ve decided to take the little bit of both the Johnlock and Marlas 30 Day OTP Challenges I’ve written and post them on AO3. I hate when people publish unfinished works, but after driving to both Worcester and Chester, VT this weekend, the voices in my head have told me it’s time to polish and post.
I’ve never been able to argue with the creativity-related voices in my head.
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.