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I don't wanna time-travel no more
Apr. 24th, 2012 01:31 pmsome things make a post!
i. I had a lovely encounter with a little old lady outside of the Uni library this afternoon, I was picking up a book and on a meter so couldn't stay long to talk to her, but she was handing out informational flyers about the fact that in Indiana 17.3 percent of girls in grades 9-12 have been raped. The woman must have been 75+, and there was something beautiful about the interactions I saw taking place between her, earnestly handing out her flyers, and the teenaged students she was reaching out to her. I admire the hell out of her dedication, drive, and chutzpah.
ii. on a less good note: I wish my extended family could grok that the way to help your introverted grandkid is not to poke her about her lack of a social life until she feels completely crushed by social expectation and her failure to measure up. I hate my patterns of response to that sort of thing, because I also recognize that I do need to keep trying to be social, especially in the collapse of a lot of my support structures after The Breakup last fall. But the overwhelming fear and self-hatred that inevitably swamps me in the aftermath of those conversations makes it difficult for me to do anything but retreat to the safety of my room & my computer & my cats. Just. Not helpful, you guys. I love you, but not helpful.
iii. on a more geeky note: 12:30 am last night, while hiding from social anxiety with help of internet, I had a brainwave. Steve/Tony = a more sexed-up, contemporary, potentially-edgy rendition of a lot of the things I loved as a kid in Sam/Frodo. Strong fairhaired earnest genuine do-gooder paired with angsty cerebral guilty-about-the-past, not to mention physically damaged by past contact with objects of mass destruction. No wonder this ship is eating my life. It's like a whole bunch of my favorite tropes have grown up with me, and started critiquing heteronormativity and the military-industrial complex.
i. I had a lovely encounter with a little old lady outside of the Uni library this afternoon, I was picking up a book and on a meter so couldn't stay long to talk to her, but she was handing out informational flyers about the fact that in Indiana 17.3 percent of girls in grades 9-12 have been raped. The woman must have been 75+, and there was something beautiful about the interactions I saw taking place between her, earnestly handing out her flyers, and the teenaged students she was reaching out to her. I admire the hell out of her dedication, drive, and chutzpah.
ii. on a less good note: I wish my extended family could grok that the way to help your introverted grandkid is not to poke her about her lack of a social life until she feels completely crushed by social expectation and her failure to measure up. I hate my patterns of response to that sort of thing, because I also recognize that I do need to keep trying to be social, especially in the collapse of a lot of my support structures after The Breakup last fall. But the overwhelming fear and self-hatred that inevitably swamps me in the aftermath of those conversations makes it difficult for me to do anything but retreat to the safety of my room & my computer & my cats. Just. Not helpful, you guys. I love you, but not helpful.
iii. on a more geeky note: 12:30 am last night, while hiding from social anxiety with help of internet, I had a brainwave. Steve/Tony = a more sexed-up, contemporary, potentially-edgy rendition of a lot of the things I loved as a kid in Sam/Frodo. Strong fairhaired earnest genuine do-gooder paired with angsty cerebral guilty-about-the-past, not to mention physically damaged by past contact with objects of mass destruction. No wonder this ship is eating my life. It's like a whole bunch of my favorite tropes have grown up with me, and started critiquing heteronormativity and the military-industrial complex.