so many fandoms

I started watching Supernatural because, well, two hot boys!

Then, the show turned into something more than just an hour of tv a week…

The fan base became a family. A sometimes dysfunctional family, but still a family.

We’ve moved mountains when we’ve needed to: winning awards for the cast, raising thousands for charities the cast believes in, sending metric ass-tons of rubber ducks to Vancouver just because we can, and following Misha Collins on a journey of creativity never before imagined. Did I mention we pissed Twitter off? (I can’t remember now, but I think the hashtag was #LuciferIsComing.)

Then, I attended two SPNCons…

I was actually moved to tears at BOSCON when I saw how much actors who were on like one episode appreciated the fans. And we love them back. We miss them. We start petitions to have them return to the show.

When I get upset, lonely, depressed, etc. SPN offers me an escape by allowing me to follow two brothers whose lives are much more fucked up than mine. Maybe that’s shitty, but at least I take pleasure from watching fictional characters suffer instead of people.

The writing too - the writing on this show is amazing. On tumblr, the SPN fandom plays a lot of “is this actual dialogue or not?” We also play “is this a scene or a gag reel outtake?” (Hint: it’s almost ALWAYS from the show, never a gag reel.)

While I’m on the topic of the writing… Destiel, dude. Fucking Destiel. There was a lot of wank about a fan’s treatment at NJCON this year because they brought up bisexuality during Jensen’s panel. The question was never heard by Jensen - the fan was yanked out of line specifically because talking about Destiel makes him uncomfortable. It’s not that he, personally, is uncomfortable with homo/bisexuality, but he’s uncomfortable with the way the fandom obsesses over his character’s relationship with another male character. (And let’s not even bring up wincest. It’s exactly what it sound like. *shudders*)

I don’t care who you are, or what you’re into, but if you watch the relationship between Dean and Castiel develop over the seasons… dude, that’s love right there. Regardless of what the fandom does with it, that is some serious bromance. It’s such an important part of the mythology of the show, it’s become canon and occasionally, the writers, Jensen and Misha will toss the fandom a bone. It’s never been more clear than it was during last week’s episode. Cas buys Dean a pr0n mag and goes postal on a store clerk because he doesn’t have any pie. (Dean and pie, man, that’s another OTP… to be dissected on another day.)

I’ve been watching the marathons on TNT every morning while I look for a job. After I do that, I get on tumblr and spend time with my SPN family.

It makes me feel better, not that much can right now, but it does a little bit.

I’ll take what I can get… and did I mention? Two. Hot. Boys.

I’ve got two interviews in Boston tomorrow with two different recruiters.

It seems that my new idea of finding the recruiters with multiple interesting positions and sending a resume for something that’s a little bit of a stretch gets me more attention than if I apply to one I’m actually qualified for. I’m not quite sure why that’s working but in this recent job search, I’m four for six. That’s not too bad.

Shit. Yesterday, I applied for a position at 10:02 and got a call at 10:06. He’s interview # 2 tomorrow. Of course, I’m not the right fit for the job I sent my resume in for, but he’s got several I might be a fit for…

Jackpot.

Since there will be walking, I was planning on bringing my brick filled ruck. I’m a little nervous about that, though so I probably won’t. I mean, it’s bricks. In duct tape, and bubble wrap, in a black backpack. Bricks in duct tape and bubble wrap and that kind of look like a bomb. In a city that just had, um, issues with bombs in backpacks. Oh, and I’m going into the Financial District. I wonder what security will be like…

Maybe not such a good idea after all.

It’s one thing to explain the GORUCK Challenge, it’s another to whip out my brick-bomb and be all nonchalant: Yeah, these bricks? They’re my BFFs. I’ve gone everywhere with them for the past six months. I never leave home without them.

I’m going to miss them.

After Boston, I’m off to Albany. It’s a much needed break from reality on what would have been my parents’ 44th anniversary (assuming the divorce hadn’t happened in 1992). Actually, I assume all the time that they’d still be together. From what I can gather, my father was crushed they got divorced and I think it was a last-ditch chance to get my mother to smarten up. Of course, then she up and died days after the stupid thing became final, so they never got a second chance.

Way to go. Now I’ve depressed myself. AGAIN.

Here’s some more Sherlock because I need to giggle. The death Frisbee!

Your face, sir, with that crunching thing it does… Here, please watch as my ovaries explode.

Also, yet another CANON hint that Johnlock may indeed be a real thing, despite Moftiss claiming that it’s not like that between the two men.

Remember that Johnlock fanfic culture thing I posted a few days?

I’m proofreading my Johnlock brOTP fan fic and what do I spy with my little eye?

John looked around the kitchen and saw all new appliances. The old ones were piled in the corner, each one neatly labeled “EXPERIMENTS ONLY.” Sherlock was sitting at the table calmly eating a scone, a mug of tea at his side. “I did some shopping. I hope you didn’t want to pick anything out.”

“I replaced everything. Even scrubbed the shelves and cupboards.”

Yep.

Sherlock bought some fucking MILK.

The Brits may hate apples, but the Doctor FUCKING loves him some bananas.