I read Heather Hogan's most recent blog post earlier today and I thought it was very interesting.
Later, while washing my dog and thinking about how miserable she looked (What did I ever do to deserve this?) and my mind wandered back to Heather Hogan and her dogs and that post (sometimes my brain is like a game of "Six Degrees of Ropher"). I started thinking and I realized that Heather brought up some very intriguing points. Of course, that's nothing new - she does it habitually. Still, I found myself having and internal discussion about Heather Hogan, her writing, and the concept of image. So, as per usual, I decided to write about it.

I don't know if any of you know Heather Hogan's writing very well, but if you don't I highly suggest that you get acquainted with it - like, now. Why? Only because she's one of the truest, most honest, enjoyable, interesting, intelligent, insightful, and funniest writers on the interwebs (read ever).

I think many will agree with me when I say that Heather Hogan's Skins recaps seemed like a gift from a higher power when I first discovered them. I mean, I read Heather's recaps (and Rophy's) before I'd ever watched an episode of Skins. No joke. I found them while procrastinating at summer camp (I was supposed to be writing an essay) and I  thought I had died and gone to Heaven. The analysis, humor, poignancy, and fantastic character deconstruction I found in those recaps made me fall in love. I fell in love with characters I had never seen in action, with a storyline I'd never previously experienced, and with a show I'd never previously viewed. I also fell in love with a woman I'd never met: the writer (yes, I said writer) Heather Hogan.

That sounds kind of creepy, doesn't it?

In the post upon which this post is based, Heather wrote:

Well, I promised artemisrampant a Dumblewald fic a while ago. When I promised, I had a really good idea of what I wanted to do with it and where it was going to go. Of course, being me, I never wrote down an outline or anything, just a couple paragraphs of exposition in a notebook and a bigger beginning of the first chapter in a livejournal draft, which was promptly lost by the treacherous interwebs. Then, recently I had a great idea for a Naomily fic and I really wanted to write it, but I felt bad because I promised artemisrampant  her Dumblewald fic and I didn't want to be a meaniehead flake. She was very gracious and said I should go ahead and write it, because, I quote, "who can deny the whims of plot bunnies?" Of course, being me, I never had time to write more than a few paragraphs of exposition on my Naomily fic in a notebook and today I had another fanfiction brainsplosion, this time a Skins full cast ALBUM songfic. However, I decided I would be a good girl and find my Dumblewald fic and post a bit of it first, because Skins owns a large part of my soul and that fanfiction is going to get written at some point, so I should probably work on the one I promised someone first. So, the first chapter of the Dumblewald fic may be found below.

( Simple and uncomplicated were high on Albus' list of desirable relationship traits... )

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Put your iTunes (or etc.) on shuffle.
- For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
- YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN
- Tag a bunch of friends who might enjoy doing this.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Hot Stuff - The Rolling Stones

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
The Internet is For Porn - Original Broadway Cast (errrrr...I take the fifth on that one...)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Whole Wide World - John Gorka (apparently I'm not very choosy)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Morag's Cradle Song - Margie Butler (lolwut?)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Vianne Confronts the Comte - Rachel Portman (from the "Chocolat" soundtrack, you know...I like that. Subtle political undertones)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
If You Want to Know Who We Are - W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Don't Forget Me - Neko Case

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Cruel Minor Change - Beulah (huh...that's not very nice)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Cowsong - Kate Rusby (YES!)

WHAT IS 2+2?
Next to Me - Parker House and Theory

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Back Door Man - The Doors (OMS, so true, so adorably wonderfully true!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Blues For Mary Jane - Stan Getz

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Colors and the Kids - Cat Power

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Valedictorian - Matt The Electrician

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Here's a How-De-Do - W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Opening Escape - Harry Gregson-Williams

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING
Turn Me On - Norah Jones (oooh...classy)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Long, Long, Long - The Beatles (more specifically George Harrison)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
He's Loose - Fred Applegate (Um...NO)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Blue in Green - Miles Davis

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy (Live) - The Swell Season

WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Wild Honey Pie - The Beatles

WHAT’S THE BEST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Omnia Sol Temperat - Carl Orff

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Hey Jude - The Beatles

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Red Tide - Neko Case

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Not a Second Time - The Beatles

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Angel Band - The Stanley Brothers

WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN YOU RETIRE?
Different As Can Be - Joe Walker & Brian Rosenthal (YUS!)

WHAT’S THE BEST SONG ON YOUR iPOD?
I Know an Ending When It Comes - Emmylou Harris

IF YOU HAD A TV SHOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED?
The Next Time You Say Forever - Neko Case (oooh...catchy!)

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Fear and Convenience - Thao

I was just hanging out on Rophydoes - because that is all I've done with my life since I discovered them (okay, fine, I read Heather's Skins recaps too...it's impossible NOT to!) - and I'd decided that it was my new mission to go through their whole site and read every scrap of writing they ever birthed into this world from the magical womb of LOLs and rainbows and UMPH that is Rophy. And what did I find, tucked away under "Fandom?" I found their list of Top 10 Tegan & Sara songs. So, there I was thinking, "This is incredibly amazing, Rophy are going to dispense TEGAN & SARA INSIGHT!" And then, as I was watching all the clips and reading all the commentary...it was just TRUTHBOOM chain reaction. Every single song. And I couldn't figure out any way to make it all fit into one coherent little blurb of a comment. So I'm venting here, because this is what Rophy does to me. It fills me up with thoughts and words and feelings, like that girl I watched at all of the readings I went to this summer, that is how inspiring you are, Rophy.

First off, it's probably good if I explain my history with Tegan & Sara. So, over two years ago, my bestest buddy (who was and is OBSESSED with Tegan & Sara) was raving about how good they were and how I needed to listen to them and love them. For some reason, I didn't get into them then. Recently, in June, I saw three of their albums on my sister's iTunes while I was stealing music from her to fill up Mister Ed. I put them all on, thinking, "You guys deserve another chance, I am older and wiser now. Enlighten me." And at first, I still couldn't get into it in the same way I get into other music. But it intrigued me and I kept listening to all three albums, endlessly on repeat (The Con, So Jealous, This Business of Art, The Con, So Jealous, This Business of Art) over and over again, while reading, while writing, while using the toilet, just to try and find what it was that kept me hypnotized and always coming back for more. And then, one day, while reading a book, near the beginning of the album cycle, it happened. I just suddenly heard, "So what I lied/ I lied to me too/ (so what)" and my brain exploded. Everything Tegan & Sara suddenly clicked in my brain, in one gigantic TRUTHBOOM. From that moment on, I was a believer. After which, I proceeded to listen to "Dark Come Soon" over and over again on and endless loop for the rest of the day. Once things clicked that first time, everything fit, everything worked, I was sucked in, addicted for all time, for good, for real, suddenly a fanatic, this music tripping around my head while I slept. It was magic. It still is.

Now I've told you, now you know - onward, to the ranting.

I'm not going to argue with the Rophy order of things, because it doesn't matter that it's not mine, it's THEIRS, that's what's important. Seriously. I love seeing (more importantly, hearing) other people's perspectives and exploring them, because that almost always catalyzes and clarifies mine in incredible ways. To begin with, the contrast between Tegan's songs and Sara's songs.

New as I am to this fandom, it seems to me that Tegan's songs are the more generally well-liked, easily-agreed-upon variety. I know that's a gross generalization and not fair to make at all, so please take it with a grain of salt. Or a pound of bacon. Or some a 5 kilogram block of pure sodium metal (just don't let it near any water). I'm very into analyzing my reaction to everything Tegan's songs versus Sara's - so much so that Mister Ed has a "Tegan" playlist and a "Sara" playlist, as well as a "Tegan & Sara" playlist. I love how Rophy talk about the passion in Tegan's songs, contrasted against the insinuating cleverness of Sara's, and how they feel more with the passion, relate more. The thing is, the pleading, heartbreaking intensity of the Tegan songs makes me want to scream, run, cry, break down and pound my fists on the floor right along with her. But the whispers, the questions, the challenges, the soft invasive touch of the Sara songs makes me want to just lie down on my back and surrender. I can't find a verb for what Tegan's songs do to me, because the whole point is that they inspire verbs in me, the physical, to feel the pain with her. Sara's songs...I've always had a verb for what they do to me. Sara's songs seduce me. Mind, body, soul...when Sara Quin sings "Come On," I am totally and utterly hers to do with whatever she pleases.

As a hopeless champion of the underdogs, half of my brain has somehow acquired the idea that Sara is the underdog twin (her name second in the coupling, even though it's alphabetically first, her songs seemingly less popular, her songs less often the album title...), while the other half argues that this is a ridiculous, preposterous, TOMFOOL notion and pleads that the first half please be reasonable. Still, Sara has gained my allegiance as a faithful worshipper, even though my brain is divided on the ethicality of such devotion.

I'm really glad that Rophy mentioned the harmonies, more specifically giving props to Sara for her amazing harmonies on the Tegan songs. That's one of my favorite parts of the Tegan & Sara idiom: the incredible mastery of close harmonies to tear out your innards. Oh, are they ever good at it. The perfect contrary motion in the chorus of "Soil, Soil" and Sara's little "love" harmony on "Nineteen." Those harmonies, they just have pull, they have gravity of their own, they are magic. Quin Twins do it better.

Finally (really, I promise, it's getting much too late for me to be coherent), here are a couple of things I noticed while watching the live clips. And yeah...there all reasons why I love Sara. Sorry...only...no, no I'm not. First, everything I'd been thinking before got blasted out of my head when, while watching "Nineteen" I realized that SARA IS WEARING MY SHOES!!!!!!! Omiself, we are dyke-purple-shoe-soulmates. I'm so so so close to being so so so sure they're the same. I swear, for the Spinner's Interface recordings (my absolute FAVORITE way to hear Tegan & Sara, by the way...with their pretty acoustic guitars and their pretty voices...so simple and pure...yes, I am a folk nerd...) Sara Quin is wearing purple Converse hi-tops. Just. Like. Mine. I'm going to watch all of those videos to make sure. So far it is verified by "The Con." Second, Sara Quin wears vests. I am a sucker for vests. Now, Rophy, I just *know* what you're going to say - you're going to say that Tegan is wearing a vest (and I very nice one at that) in the "Call It Off" performance. But, a-HA, I have an argument. The Sara's vests to Tegan's vests ratio is so far 2:1 (3:1 if your counting by song, but I'm counting by performance). I like this trend. And third...Rophy. Why did you do it? You fill a whole post with Tegan and her music and then, in the #1 song, the crowning glory of the Tegan & Sara Top 10, you let Sara steal the show right there, sitting at the keyboard, bathed in heavenly light. Like an angel. And that's all I can pay attention to. I'm telling you, right now: me and Sara. It. Was. Meant. To. Be.

In conclusion, I love you, you crazy Rophys, you are the reason for my current euphoria and my current wallpaper and I love you for it. And also for MANDEHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!11

You Scored as Naomi You are intelligent, witty & independent. You have strong opinions & hate cliches. You try to appear tough & in need of no one, but really you're terrified of pain, getting close & being hurt. Naomi 73% Thomas 73% Emily 67% JJ 67% Pandora 67% Freddie 58% Effy 48% Katie 46% Cook 40%

 A few days ago, as you may remember, I included, in an extended gay-rant, the issue of the lack of education about LGBT issues. Well, today something came up to prove my point.

In English, we were discussing Romeo & Juliet and whether or not they would have been able to maintain a healthy, lasting relationship, had they not died. Someone brought up the point that teenagers are by definition not entirely sure of themselves yet and still working on figuring themselves out, so for all we know, either Romeo or Juliet might turn out to be gay. This seemed to surprise one boy, who said, with complete conviction, "If one of them was gay they wouldn't have had sex!"

There are two possible ways to interpret that statement, neither of which are very cheering. On the one hand, he may simply have meant that if someone is attracted to people of the same sex, then he or she would not bother having sex with people of the opposite sex. While this may seem like sound and logical reasoning, it is not. In reality, because of the social estrangement associated with being queer, many queer adolescents go through a period of "pretending to be straight," during which they may date and even have sex with members of the opposite sex, in order to try and force themselves to meet the straight criteria. This can result in serious issues, such as unplanned pregnancy, illness, or emotional scarring. Of course, the boy in my English class probably has no idea about any of this and he probably has no idea that his daily behavior can contribute to the forces that prompt queers to hide this way. On the other hand, he may have meant that, in his eyes, queers are incapable of having sex with or pleasing members of the opposite sex. Classic damaging "logic:" That guy is gay! He's less of a man that I am! Therefore, he cannot please women as well as I can!" Which, once again, could be remedied by actually *teaching* kids the useful facts as well as ways to avoid and counteract homophobia.

At the time, the statement actually made me quite angry. However, I later had a long discussion with my best friend, who said that those who don't have a lot of background knowledge in queer matters probably wouldn't be able to find anything wrong with that statement. She agreed with me that it was ignorant, but she kept me from getting really angry about it. So now I'm just a little frustrated, and I would like to point up that I am henceforth justified in my "lack of education" argument.

Okay, I'm officially exhausted and physically *need* to sleep. So, quick summary of today: I got a 100% on the math test I took on Monday, I had my math presentation, and I handed my amazing vocabulary project, which is an original script in the Shakespearean style, employing 10-15 words from our vocabulary from Romeo & Juliet. That was *incredibly* fun to write. Hopefully it will be a great success.

I *cannot* keep my eyes open any longer.

I said I'd gay rant, and this weekend has been surprisingly businesslike, with very little to blog about, so I feel now's as good a time as any. This may not be a particularly good rant, however, because I'm kind of tired. But I gay rant pretty much INCESSANTLY, so I'm sure there'll be more later. Here goes.

Ever since I realized I'm a lesbian, my life makes so much more sense. The funny thing is, I distrust that. I have a nagging fear that life does not make sense, and therefore anything is as logical as my sexuality must be false in some way or another. Also, I fear the lack of perspective, inherent to being young. Where I'm standing now, though, things make very good sense.

I've always been the genderfuck kid, ever since I was old enough to really choose my own clothes. Between third and eighth grade, I didn't wear a single skirt, and I refused to wear anything I deemed to "girly" preferring cargo pants and baggy tees. After I cut my hair at end of 5th grade, I used to get redirected to the men's room and old grannies would glare at me in the ladies' room. The funny thing is, I was completely oblivious of sexuality. All I knew was that I was the biggest tomboy in my grade. In 5th grade, all the guys in my class called our teacher gay. They all said it like it was this terrible thing, and I wondered what could possibly be so wrong about being happy and joyous. I didn't even know that there were alternatives to the traditional "man + wife" schtick. It wasn't until about two years later that I found out what those boys had really meant, although I still didn't understand why they were so upset about it. I was weirdly fascinated by the concept of gay. Something about it hypnotized me, and I became very interested. That year, I had my first girl crush and sweet little mini romance, which ended amicably, if awkwardly. The timing, to me, seemed overly convenient, the sudden interest in all things gay, and then the gay crush. The over-convenience made me wary, leery of things that made deceptively good sense. The beginning of eighth grade saw circumstance and (inadvertently, I believe) my parents shutting me firmly in the closet to incubate awhile, until emerging this year as one of the loudest and most fabulous things out there.

In my somewhat short hindsight, things make a lot more sense when I accept myself as a lesbian. Then, everything follows a logical pattern, but still something whispers, be afraid of that which seems simple. It's incredibly annoying. However, I'm currently identifying as a lesbian, regardless of what changes may occur in the future, and it's actually one of the greatest realizations of my life, because everything is a whole lot clearer now.

Having now happily immersed myself in gay subculture, to find myself absolutely at home, I've got many more opinions and a lot more information at my disposal. Things like the way the boys in 5th grade treated our teacher and the constant gay-bashing that goes on every day makes me really really angry. I've been elected next year's GSA president and I'm really looking forward to being able to finally try and form a community in my own school and maybe actually make a difference. I'm angry but I'm hopeful, and I've got problems to solve.

First, there's the community problem in our school. We're going to work really hard next year to develop a more social side to our GSA, so that people will be able to come and just chill and feel comfortable somewhere, like the Queer Center I visited at my sister's college. At our school, there is no gay community, really. There are a few out people, but basically everyone is still closeted and a lot of them are a bit angry and afraid. This year, I was the only out gay person in our GSA and I didn't really become OUT OUT OUT until near the end of the year, mostly because I didn't want to make a big deal of it. So, we need to fix the gay-less GSA problem. Hopefully, the work we've done this year and some of the new friends I've made will help us get a bigger following, maybe even the start of a community, because if there's anything young LGBTQs need, it's people they feel safe around, to whom they can connect and with whom they can share.

Then, there's the more abstract and widespread problem of education. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't know many schools that include sexuality and gender identity in their health curricula, aside from that one sentence: "during puberty, some teens may experience feelings of attraction towards people of their own gender, but this is just a phase and will pass with time." To me, this is utter bullshit. One of the only ways to combat homophobia is through education. Straight teens should understand that there is nothing wrong with being queer or questioning and queer and questioning teens should understand that there's nothing wrong with the feelings and thoughts they're having and should be armed with as much information as possible. Society's anti-queer bias makes LGBTQ teens incredibly vulnerable, to virtually everything health class warns us of. And yet, for some reason, health class completely ignore the existence of the queer population and its needs. As you can tell, this is something I feel quite strongly about. I mean, LGBTQ students shouldn't have to go looking to find information that may not be entirely reliable and they shouldn't be so desperate to have someone to confide as to possibly become close to someone who may not have their best interests at heart. This year, when we talked about date rape and sexual abuse, it was from an entirely heterosexual point of view, with no mention of the fact that a man boy could be abusing another boy, or a girl another girl. And that puts everyone at risk, both LGBTQ students who aren't being given information vital to their own well-being, and the straight students who are being mislead. In addition, when we talk about the importance of protection during sexual acts, at no point are queer issues mentioned. But we need to know these things! Just because I went to the library and checked out the entire queer section scavenging for information, and therefore understand that protection is necessary for lesbians as well as everyone else and know how to provide myself with that protection if I need it, doesn't mean that every other queer teen can or will do the same. Just because queers don't get pregnant when they have sex doesn't mean there aren't risks. My teacher recently told us that "sex is for babies, which completely excludes a decent fraction of the population, whose sex CANNOT produce children and is not meant to do so! SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE HERE!!!!!!

As you see, I'm especially fervent about education. I believe that it would make a huge difference, but I'm sadly aware that people like this and this will do everything they can do prevent America's youth from being taught about these very real and prevalent problems. This needs to be addressed. And it also brings up the question of an absolute democracy. I am thankful that I don't live in one, because an absolute democracy allows the many to make rules for the few. Our system may not be perfect, but at least Obama can still make June LGBT month and work towards abolishing Don't Ask, Don't Tell, while our legislative bodies struggle to pass anti-discrimination policies. I'm angry, but I'm hopeful. And I want to make a difference.

I'm completely aware that I'm a total space shot a lot of the time, but it seems to be reaching quite a serious level. Today I had a very "Why am I the last to know everything?" type moment. Apparently, one of my best friends has a crush on another of our friends and I totally didn't see it, until she told me today. I guess maybe I haven't seen her around him enough? Because when we're all together, we're usually watching Doctor Who and I'm distracted by it, as well as by the progression of my own budding romance, which is most open at our Doctor Who gatherings. One way or another, I didn't realize what was going on.

In other news, I stepped in dog poo today, while playing badminton. And it got between the toes of my left foot, so I couldn't wipe it of on the grass easily like I could with my right foot. I can now tell you with reliable certainty that dog poo between your toes is not a nice feeling. Mainly because of the smell...

Other than that, not much of actual interest happened today. (I'm sorry to say) I spent most of the early afternoon working on a birthday present for my friend. I made her a bag, using a baby pink bandanna and an old dark salmon-esque pink t-shirt. It came out quite well, except that I then realized that the salmon-type color didn't entirely match the baby pink. Also, I remembered that salmon pink doesn't really go well with many other colors. So the bag might not look good with my friend's clothes, if she chose to use it. I wrote her a little note, offering alterations if the color combination doesn't work out. However, she seemed to like it when I gave it to her. We shall see.

Hmmmmmm...if I've reached the point of talking about sewing and birthday presents, that probably means I don't actually have anything to talk about. So I shall say good night, because tomorrow's busy.

Yes, today I would like to write about a couple things that make my brain "wtf?!" a little.

To begin with, that movie The Natural with Robert Redford. I just watched it and basically spent most of the movie thinking, "Wait, what?!" For those of you who haven't seen it (and might possibly at some point, and would be angry with me for telling you the end) SPOILER ALERT!

So, the plot of The Natural is as follows, and bear with me here. There's a guy named Roy Hobbs, who's the most naturally talented baseball player ever. He grew up on a farm and now he's going to Chicago to play in the major leagues. On the train to Chicago, he meets a lady who semi-seduces him. When he gets to Chicago, she phones him in his hotel room and asks him to come to her room, so she can show him around the city (very very suspicious, that). He goes to her room, only to find her wearing some ridiculous veil thing and a very scanty dress and she shoots him (in the arm, I originally thought). Wait, what?! Why did that just happen? I don't get it! Why would she randomly shoot him? And not actually kill him! Okay, maybe it'll make more sense later. Cut to 16 years later, Roy Hobbs looking exactly like he did at the beginning. Wait, What? He goes to play major league ball in New York (with a fictional team called the New York knights). The manager, Pop, is feuding with the majority stockholder, Judge. Judge has been making bad trades, making the Knights suck. Now he and Pop have a deal. If Pop can manage the Knights to a pennant victory, he can buy back the shares from Judge. So, obviously, Judge doesn't want the Knights to win the pennant. Got that? Good, it's important later. At first, Pop refuses to play Roy at all and he doesn't even let him take batting practice. When he finally lets Roy take a swing, it of course turns out that Roy hits a home run on every pitch. And in his first major league at bat, he literally knocks the cover off the ball. Wait, what? That's not baseball!!! That's not even possible!!!!So, Roy becomes golden boy and the Knights start a winning streak. Then Roy starts a little something-something with Pop's niece (I have no idea what her name is, so we shall call her Niece-Girl) who already has a relationship with a bookie named Gus. With me so far? Good. There's more. Apparently, via some magical karmic disturbance, as soon as Roy gets involved with Niece-Girl, he stops hitting. Instead, he is now striking out on three pitches, every single at bat. Wait, what?! Once again with the not-baseball-absolutes! Then, when on a road trip to Chicago, he sees his teenage sweetheart in the stands, and (of course) immediately pulls out of his slump and hits a game winning homer. So then he goes to see his old flame, and she invites him over to her house. (Her name is Iris, by the way) There, she tells him that while she is not married, she does have a son. Who doesn't know his father. Who's father lives in New York. Who's at the age where he needs a father. HINT HINT FUCKING HINT! (Why are we adding more plot complications?!!!) But Roy doesn't get it and he has to leave. More complications that I don't even remember (keep in mind I finished this movie about 15 minutes ago) ensue. He starts to pull away from Niece-Girl a little, which worries her, since she's apparently in league with Gus the bookie and Judge to try and stop Roy from playing good baseball, thereby preventing the Knights from winning the pennant. More stuff happens. Niece-Girl poisons Roy at a party. Wait, what?! Where exactly did that come from? He is rushed to hospital and it is discovered that the silver bullet the nasty-seductive-gun-lady shot him with 16 years ago (wait, it was silver?) has been lodged in his stomach all this time, wearing away at the lining (but I thought he got shot in the arm). HOLY CRAP, WHAT IS GOING ON?! So he can't play baseball. And by now the Knights are in the playoffs. Finally, after a hospital bed visit from Iris, he gets to play in game seven. He strikes out all his at bats, until the ninth inning. Iris sends a note down to the dugout via some guard type people. It tells Roy (we assume) that her son is actually THEIR son. So then Roy goes out and hits a game winning homer, which hits the light tower and shorts out all the lights and thus causes fireworks (electrical engineering, question mark), even though he is bleeding through his shirt on his left side (medical science, question mark). The Knights win the pennant, yay. Cut to a field somewhere in the Midwest (near Roy's hometown) with Roy and his teenaged son playing catch while Iris watches. Fin.

Yipes! I didn't even realize how long that was until I scrolled up. It's a very complicated movie. And it makes a startlingly small amount of sense. I'm not sure quite what I think of it. I mean, Shakespeare is comparatively simple, when placed alongside The Natural.

The next confusing thing is math. How is it that I can look at a geometry problem and understand all the hard stuff and derive all the correct measurements, and yet my answer (which was found using simple arithmetic and algebraic substitution) reflects these measurements and this comprehension in no way whatsoever? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!! I swear, I have no idea where my answers come from. Fucking Mars, or something.

Speaking of Shakespeare (who is not all that confusing), I'm finally realizing a long-time dream of mine: writing a play in the style of Shakespeare. It's been a great year, literary creativity-wise. I wrote my first sonnet this year too, and loved it. So now, struggling with blank verse (and after having wrestled iambic pentameter to the floor), I have discovered new depths of respect for good ol' Billy. I mean, look at the line "My master, not myself, lacks recompense" from Twelfth Night (I love that play so much). It makes complete sense, and you just kind of let it go. But, if you look at it AGAIN, you realize that WAIT A MINUTE, THAT'S PERFECT IAMBIC METER!!!!!! Contrastingly, it took me a good hour or so to thrash out the desperately flawed line "On thee, my lord, may I bestow those accolades of which certain thou worthy be. In this, thy most triumphal hour of office sure secured, much honor owe I thee." It has it's strong points...but it's not Shakespeare. It truth, though, that's not really fair. Shakespeare had the advantage of living in a time period with much better vocabulary. And don't even get me started on Milton. *heartthrob*

I think I've babbled at you enough. Plus it's my time to sleep, seeing as I am ridiculously busy this weekend. Toodles!

I openly admit that I am an easily fascinated person. I can stare at my hands for minutes on end, fiddling with my fingers and just being fascinated by the movement. (No seriously, it's very interesting) However, today I'd like to investigate a few things that I find myself particularly fascinated by.

For example, today I realized that I am fascinated by sign language. I was showing a friend some of Captain Valor's adorable sign language music videos and after she was gone, I began searching more. Which led me to discovering which translator Captain Valor uses and consequently checking it out for myself, and then reteaching myself the ABC's and exploring some simple phrases and idioms. In short, I've developed a sudden, completely unexplained interest in learning sign language. As a highly aural individual, I find said interest somewhat unusual. I mean, sign language is a silent method of communication, while most of my life revolves around sound. So, from whence springs this new fascination? I'm very interested in language, and have a certain aptitude and learning languages, so could it be partly from my interest in language? Is it from fear of my own possible loss of hearing? Or simply to have a fun and different way to communicate? Or is it because of watching signed music videos, and the appreciating the interaction between the spoken and the signed? Am I fascinated by this silent way of singing? Or is it some random lesbian hand fetish? Probably all of the above, except maybe not that last one. No. Wait a second. Didn't I say earlier that I'm fascinated by the movement of my hands? Oh my! That must be it. I have a hand fetish. Well, you certainly do learn something new every day.

Furthermore, I'm fascinated by Starla. Starla is the portmanteau of Stella and Carla, from the German soap opera Verbotene Liebe, the adorable couple featured in the above linked scene (subtitles by yours truly). My fascination with Starla is of an odd kind, I feel, one mainly based off of admiration. They're my favorite screen couple, even though there are others who are more physical or more dramatic (Pepsi comes to mind). I think my fascination stems from several sources. First, they are German, meaning that they speak German, possibly my favorite language of all time. They're also very believable and intensely adorable. However, it is my opinion that there is more to it than the above. I think that Starla represents, to me, the ideal relationship: respectful, tender, loving, and based upon a strong friendship. Stella and Carla don't have many on screen love scenes (well, only one, if you must quibble), but they radiate a veritable glow of happiness and mutual adoration. It also may have a little bit to do with the fact that they're relationship is of a kind I can easily imagine myself in, one I would be comfortable with, the kind that I have always been seeking. To me, there can be no fan fiction about Stella and Carla (not by me, at any rate) because their relationship feels so whole and fulfilled. Whatever the reason, to me, Starla is the most powerful and emotionally provocative supercouple.

Note: I really need to stop staying up late watching Starla fan videos, as wonderful as they may be.