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shadowkat[ETA: It's probably worth noting that I wrote this post when I was feeling nauseous, crappy, and altogether miserable this morning...in short, there really should be a icky/uggy not to mention maudlin mood word. Crappy just doesn't quite get it all across. Although my icon may go a long way towards that. I really mean it when I say 'don't fuck with me', some people are kidding when they use that one, me? Not so much.]
Do you ever wonder when you post a blog on livejournal, who is reading and who scrolls by and who has filtered you out entirely, but for reasons that defy logic has kept you on their flist anyhow? Maybe it's just me. But I look at the list of people who have friended me for whatever reason, and some of them, feel a little like ghosts. Haunting the page, unseen, unheard, there but maybe not.
Just finished scrolling through my own livejournal flist - most of the people on it blog on a daily, possibly an hourly basis, while others blog once in a blue moon...like, shadowy presences that you are never quite sure are reading you or aren't. You'll go weeks, possibly months without a post, then whammo - there it is. In some cases a year. And there are others who I think may have left entirely but forgot or decided not to delete their livejournals, just in case they decide to lurk. I defriended a couple of them at one point, because...I'd more or less decided they were gone. Only to see them defreind me, which probably meant they were merely lurking about and didn't much appreciate the exorcism. Of course I'm the worste kind of hypocrite - because I seldom if ever respond to other's blogs, partially because I have zip to say which hasn't already been said by the last ten commentators, and partially because I'm a tad afraid of being kicked in the head for saying the wrong thing or being misunderstood. So I'm a bit of a ghost myself at the moment, lurking over here in my own corner of the internet woods, under an assumed name.
The best bit of advice? Which I tried to copy and repost here but couldn't without getting the whole thing, was :" Take everything you hear on the internet and the news media with a hefty grain of salt" or something to that effect. They were actually referring to the election. I think this should be followed for everything.
A new community for the analysis of Buffy has popped up. You can't really post to it, but you can comment on what the two members have come up with. So it's not really a community so much as journal by two people, who live near each other, corresponding on Buffy, and letting the rest of us read their correspondence and comment on it. I've seen this popping up quite a bit lately. Makes me feel incredibly lonely, while at the same time snarkily amused.
Another post mentioned how this is the eighth anniversiary of one of the fan discussion boards I used to post on. Possibly the best one and the only one that has a complete archive of just about every post or essay I ever did on Buffy and Angel scattered amongst its pages, not to mention every comment on those essays.
It is called the All Things Philosophical Board. And technically speaking it is a "fan" board, but most of the time we just discussed junk, some of which had zip to do with the series. Also unlike most fanboards, it wasn't heavy into fanfic. Most of the posters on it were somewhat skeptical or critical of fanfic and prefered scholarly analysis. The criteria regarding scholarly analysis was pretty damn high, slayage.com linked to the board, as did whedonesque and Buffy Cross and Stake. Also unlike other fan boards, spoilers were not permitted. BC&S was primarily a spoiler board. Shippers? Usually made fun of. And any in depth analysis - treated with respect and if it was really good, more analysis and the fodder for extended discussion. If you were into writing essays about Buffy and not specifically on one character - this was the place to be. I know, I'd hunted around. Most of the essay sites were either character or ship specific, with a heavy focus on fanfic. BC&S allowed essays, even encouraged them, but you'd find them pushed off the board in less than a day if someone posted a thread arguing that Spuffy was better than Bangle. They had a joke shipping thread on that board. Or worse, someone posted an actual plot spoiler - then you were gone a lot faster. They were more interested in figuring out spoiler puzzels. Angel's Soul Board was much the same way. You could not post on either board without getting spoiled for future episodes, which over time get a bit annoying. The age range on those boards was also a lot younger. Bronze - was just chat, and it went a mile a minute. Whedonesque didn't exist until much later and was also chat not essays. Bloody Awful Poet - Spike centric. BuffyWorld - chatty. Slayage - pretentious and too scholarly. Sunnydale U - chatty and more into Dorothy Dunnett than Buffy, not to mention a bit on the exclusive side - you needed an invite and to pass a test to get on it. Tea at the Ford came about much later and was too private - you needed to be invited and it was mostly romance novelists and scholars, and also very fanfic oriented, not to mention Spike centric. Marsters Mobsters? James Marsters centric. You get the drift.
ATPO was the only one I found with people who wanted to discuss the show at a scholarly level, where you did not have to fill out a resume or form, and list your credentials. All you did was post and see what happened. If they liked you? They'd respond. If not? They'd ignore you. If you infruriated them, they'd attack you like gnats. Internet attacks are a bit like being attacked by gnats. Also it was the only forum that appeared to have people who liked all the characters on the series more or less equally, granted there were a few people who despised certain characters, and others who worshipped certain ones, but most were fairly happy with all of them. And the posters were fairly intelligent - we had Supreme Court Attorneys, A Tibetan Monk (which boggled my mind at the time, particularly when said monk got a bit snarky with a poster named lunasea who was proposing Angel as the Budhista, and the monk insisted that was actually Spike. I'm not entirely convinced this was an actual monk and not just some incredibly intelligent and articulate kid posing as one...but I found it amusing), A physicist, a geneticist, a doctor of internal medicine, a folklorist, and lots of scholars. It was a very nice little place to hide if you felt the world had just gone crazy on you, which I had at the time. A friend at the time called it my group therapy. Free. And 24/7. Can't be beat.
Ghosts are plaguing me this week. Lots and lots of ghosts. The still alive variety. They aren't dead. People who've come and gone from my life, disappeared, leaving a faint resonance behind, but no trail in which I can realistically track them down. The one I miss the most, is oddly, a childhood friend, whom I have not seen since 1985, every time I think of her, I have the overwhelming craving for chocolat chip cookie dough. No idea why exactly. Except that she made the best chocolat chip cookies on the planet. She'd mix the chips in with her hands instead of a mixer, much like you might knead bread, and put in at least four teaspoons of vanilla. What people don't realize about chocolat chip cookies - is they are best when you fiddle around with the recipe.
I'm struggling with my social interactions right now, having come off of a weird six month stretch of multiple transistory relationships. I think deep down that I'm a bit surprised when people like me. I sort of go into the whole bit thinking they won't. I expect the rejection and am suprised when it is not forthcoming. I've prepared and everything. Made the speech. Found the exit ramp for my retreat.
The last six years have done a real number on my confidence that's for sure. Slowly trying to build it up again.
At work, I feel a bit like an abused puppy dog - willing to do anything they want, just please don't hurt me. So far they haven't, been very nice, no screaming, a welcome relief. I'd gotten used to being screamed at, interrogated by bosses, or having to justify my existence. In short, I was used to having my stomach perpetually tight, and swallowing my emotions whenever I went to work, waiting until I slugged off home for a good cry. For the first time, I don't appear to be in that situation. I actually have people managing me and my bosses who not only respect what I do for a living, but also respect me as a human being. Very odd. Not used to that at all. Say what you will about the public transportation industry, but they are much nicer than the publishing industry, video game industry, banking industry, retail industry, and health care industry.
Can't say any of this has done wonders for my social life. I find that I'm careful with people. I don't call, for fear of imposing. I hang back a bit. Each time I've pushed out into the group, tried to make it work, something happened, and I retreated. Now, it feels as if I'm taking baby steps forward. Little forays. The puppy dog look intact. And online, I find that I'm somewhat brash and tough, careful. I think it's because of all the ghosts. The navy woman who I exchanged emails with for two years, before she disappeared. The guy I used to go to movies with and meetups, and discussed tv shows long into the night, until he got married and eventually disappeared as well, his name but placekeeper on my lj. I've considered deleting it...but hesistate, each time, and have decided not to. The gal I co-wrote fanfic with and talked on the phone...from California, until she too vanished. And the friend that took me into her house during 9/11, out to lunch at the library reference company that almost threw me into a nervous breakdown, and helped me find the courage to quit in 2002 without a job in place.
The funny thing about life is sometimes the people we thought we cliched with, who helped us, disappear without warning. Reminding us that nothing is permanent in this life, except maybe death. I blame myself for most of these disappearances, even though if I think about it for any length of time, I know they are not entirely my fault. Granted I could have worked harder at it. Pushed more. Did more things. Not let my own insecurities get in the way. My excuses, while justified, feel at times hollow. And it is hard not to sit here and berate myself for what could have been.
The past sometimes whether we like or not, lets out a stink like a long dead skunk that we've run over on the road. Permeating our car for long enough to make us lose our direction, so we miss that next turn and end up lost in the netherlands.
Do you ever wonder when you post a blog on livejournal, who is reading and who scrolls by and who has filtered you out entirely, but for reasons that defy logic has kept you on their flist anyhow? Maybe it's just me. But I look at the list of people who have friended me for whatever reason, and some of them, feel a little like ghosts. Haunting the page, unseen, unheard, there but maybe not.
Just finished scrolling through my own livejournal flist - most of the people on it blog on a daily, possibly an hourly basis, while others blog once in a blue moon...like, shadowy presences that you are never quite sure are reading you or aren't. You'll go weeks, possibly months without a post, then whammo - there it is. In some cases a year. And there are others who I think may have left entirely but forgot or decided not to delete their livejournals, just in case they decide to lurk. I defriended a couple of them at one point, because...I'd more or less decided they were gone. Only to see them defreind me, which probably meant they were merely lurking about and didn't much appreciate the exorcism. Of course I'm the worste kind of hypocrite - because I seldom if ever respond to other's blogs, partially because I have zip to say which hasn't already been said by the last ten commentators, and partially because I'm a tad afraid of being kicked in the head for saying the wrong thing or being misunderstood. So I'm a bit of a ghost myself at the moment, lurking over here in my own corner of the internet woods, under an assumed name.
The best bit of advice? Which I tried to copy and repost here but couldn't without getting the whole thing, was :" Take everything you hear on the internet and the news media with a hefty grain of salt" or something to that effect. They were actually referring to the election. I think this should be followed for everything.
A new community for the analysis of Buffy has popped up. You can't really post to it, but you can comment on what the two members have come up with. So it's not really a community so much as journal by two people, who live near each other, corresponding on Buffy, and letting the rest of us read their correspondence and comment on it. I've seen this popping up quite a bit lately. Makes me feel incredibly lonely, while at the same time snarkily amused.
Another post mentioned how this is the eighth anniversiary of one of the fan discussion boards I used to post on. Possibly the best one and the only one that has a complete archive of just about every post or essay I ever did on Buffy and Angel scattered amongst its pages, not to mention every comment on those essays.
It is called the All Things Philosophical Board. And technically speaking it is a "fan" board, but most of the time we just discussed junk, some of which had zip to do with the series. Also unlike most fanboards, it wasn't heavy into fanfic. Most of the posters on it were somewhat skeptical or critical of fanfic and prefered scholarly analysis. The criteria regarding scholarly analysis was pretty damn high, slayage.com linked to the board, as did whedonesque and Buffy Cross and Stake. Also unlike other fan boards, spoilers were not permitted. BC&S was primarily a spoiler board. Shippers? Usually made fun of. And any in depth analysis - treated with respect and if it was really good, more analysis and the fodder for extended discussion. If you were into writing essays about Buffy and not specifically on one character - this was the place to be. I know, I'd hunted around. Most of the essay sites were either character or ship specific, with a heavy focus on fanfic. BC&S allowed essays, even encouraged them, but you'd find them pushed off the board in less than a day if someone posted a thread arguing that Spuffy was better than Bangle. They had a joke shipping thread on that board. Or worse, someone posted an actual plot spoiler - then you were gone a lot faster. They were more interested in figuring out spoiler puzzels. Angel's Soul Board was much the same way. You could not post on either board without getting spoiled for future episodes, which over time get a bit annoying. The age range on those boards was also a lot younger. Bronze - was just chat, and it went a mile a minute. Whedonesque didn't exist until much later and was also chat not essays. Bloody Awful Poet - Spike centric. BuffyWorld - chatty. Slayage - pretentious and too scholarly. Sunnydale U - chatty and more into Dorothy Dunnett than Buffy, not to mention a bit on the exclusive side - you needed an invite and to pass a test to get on it. Tea at the Ford came about much later and was too private - you needed to be invited and it was mostly romance novelists and scholars, and also very fanfic oriented, not to mention Spike centric. Marsters Mobsters? James Marsters centric. You get the drift.
ATPO was the only one I found with people who wanted to discuss the show at a scholarly level, where you did not have to fill out a resume or form, and list your credentials. All you did was post and see what happened. If they liked you? They'd respond. If not? They'd ignore you. If you infruriated them, they'd attack you like gnats. Internet attacks are a bit like being attacked by gnats. Also it was the only forum that appeared to have people who liked all the characters on the series more or less equally, granted there were a few people who despised certain characters, and others who worshipped certain ones, but most were fairly happy with all of them. And the posters were fairly intelligent - we had Supreme Court Attorneys, A Tibetan Monk (which boggled my mind at the time, particularly when said monk got a bit snarky with a poster named lunasea who was proposing Angel as the Budhista, and the monk insisted that was actually Spike. I'm not entirely convinced this was an actual monk and not just some incredibly intelligent and articulate kid posing as one...but I found it amusing), A physicist, a geneticist, a doctor of internal medicine, a folklorist, and lots of scholars. It was a very nice little place to hide if you felt the world had just gone crazy on you, which I had at the time. A friend at the time called it my group therapy. Free. And 24/7. Can't be beat.
Ghosts are plaguing me this week. Lots and lots of ghosts. The still alive variety. They aren't dead. People who've come and gone from my life, disappeared, leaving a faint resonance behind, but no trail in which I can realistically track them down. The one I miss the most, is oddly, a childhood friend, whom I have not seen since 1985, every time I think of her, I have the overwhelming craving for chocolat chip cookie dough. No idea why exactly. Except that she made the best chocolat chip cookies on the planet. She'd mix the chips in with her hands instead of a mixer, much like you might knead bread, and put in at least four teaspoons of vanilla. What people don't realize about chocolat chip cookies - is they are best when you fiddle around with the recipe.
I'm struggling with my social interactions right now, having come off of a weird six month stretch of multiple transistory relationships. I think deep down that I'm a bit surprised when people like me. I sort of go into the whole bit thinking they won't. I expect the rejection and am suprised when it is not forthcoming. I've prepared and everything. Made the speech. Found the exit ramp for my retreat.
The last six years have done a real number on my confidence that's for sure. Slowly trying to build it up again.
At work, I feel a bit like an abused puppy dog - willing to do anything they want, just please don't hurt me. So far they haven't, been very nice, no screaming, a welcome relief. I'd gotten used to being screamed at, interrogated by bosses, or having to justify my existence. In short, I was used to having my stomach perpetually tight, and swallowing my emotions whenever I went to work, waiting until I slugged off home for a good cry. For the first time, I don't appear to be in that situation. I actually have people managing me and my bosses who not only respect what I do for a living, but also respect me as a human being. Very odd. Not used to that at all. Say what you will about the public transportation industry, but they are much nicer than the publishing industry, video game industry, banking industry, retail industry, and health care industry.
Can't say any of this has done wonders for my social life. I find that I'm careful with people. I don't call, for fear of imposing. I hang back a bit. Each time I've pushed out into the group, tried to make it work, something happened, and I retreated. Now, it feels as if I'm taking baby steps forward. Little forays. The puppy dog look intact. And online, I find that I'm somewhat brash and tough, careful. I think it's because of all the ghosts. The navy woman who I exchanged emails with for two years, before she disappeared. The guy I used to go to movies with and meetups, and discussed tv shows long into the night, until he got married and eventually disappeared as well, his name but placekeeper on my lj. I've considered deleting it...but hesistate, each time, and have decided not to. The gal I co-wrote fanfic with and talked on the phone...from California, until she too vanished. And the friend that took me into her house during 9/11, out to lunch at the library reference company that almost threw me into a nervous breakdown, and helped me find the courage to quit in 2002 without a job in place.
The funny thing about life is sometimes the people we thought we cliched with, who helped us, disappear without warning. Reminding us that nothing is permanent in this life, except maybe death. I blame myself for most of these disappearances, even though if I think about it for any length of time, I know they are not entirely my fault. Granted I could have worked harder at it. Pushed more. Did more things. Not let my own insecurities get in the way. My excuses, while justified, feel at times hollow. And it is hard not to sit here and berate myself for what could have been.
The past sometimes whether we like or not, lets out a stink like a long dead skunk that we've run over on the road. Permeating our car for long enough to make us lose our direction, so we miss that next turn and end up lost in the netherlands.
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Much agreeage
Date: 2008-06-22 03:01 pm (UTC)Not so much, I miss things. And for me, certain consonants sound exactly the same.
Cell phones are worse than regular phones, because they pick up background noise and are often used in places where there is a lot of noise. So when people call me using them, I often spend most of the conversation trying to figure out what the heck they are saying and asking all sorts of questions, without just saying "what?what?what?" repeatedly.
I really miss the days in which "cell" phones and call waiting did not exist.
One of my friends loves text messaging. I hate it. People don't communicate well. They abbreviate everything. Get into really horrid habits. And communicate like they are ten years of age or have the vocabularly of a ten year old. I can see doing it - if you want to arrange a meeting or a quick message relating that you are okay but can't answer right now. But not long conversations.