It's been a rough week. Which is substantially impressive, as it's only Wednesday. And tomorrow's Thursday.
I never did get the hang of Thursdays.
Also, I've decided that I am a boss building manager, but if I have to deal with the tenant who refuses to respond to texts and emails and then looks all snotty when I go to her door demanding information because if I don't find out where her rent is I will lose my job, I might punch her.
Oh my God, I'm arguing with my own brain. This is terrible. And it has nothing to do with fangirls.
Well, it kind of vaguely does. I'm a persistent fangirl in absolute, utter denial who obsesses over the strangest things in the oddest of combinations all while hiding it behind this "I understand things because I'm a psych major and I study culture and I'm not cool, because not being cool is cool. Except that I was not cool before not cool was cool so... I'm totally not cool."
I'm making so many random references per second in this post, it's like I've just given up.
What was I saying? Oh, right, boxes of cats - my brain has gone from its usual slightly chaotic blended state to full out puree in the matter of a few days. How I long for the ease of Sunday afternoon, watching the Indy 500 with my dad and dying of heat on the deck while scrolling through Tumblr posts about the BAFTAS (because, even though I was doing it for "research," we all know I am utterly obsessed with Sherlock and that the more up front I am about my (pretty certainly irrational) passion for that show and *cough* a certain actor who stars in it, the less I will sound like a hypocritical doofus). Sunday seems such a simpler time after the stress Monday brought and the doubt I've placed in my own mind over the course of the past few days. And because my brain may be able to handle psychological terms and cultural texts, it's still pretty black and white when it comes to friendships and relationships (not entirely a bad thing, but not necessarily very good either). So when I begin to recognize my flaws and I hear them confirmed by others, part of me is tempted to think that there's something utterly wrong with me as a person, because God forbid anyone have a flaw (those italics are sarcasm. Just so you know. Because people have flaws, dammit. Why is that so hard for everyone - TOTALLY including me - to accept?).
Part of me knows that my loves and obsessions work in much the same way; I don't embrace them on a wide, spectacular level. I only admit them after someone else discovers it, or if I'm so passionate about it I can't contain myself. I try to keep things hidden beneath the surface, to not show how obsessed I am because I think it's inappropriate. But then I become more obsessed by trying NOT to be so obsessed. It's a total backfire.
This is where fangirls come in. Perhaps those fans that are really out front and vocal about their interests have a better time with it than I do. Those who post about it and discuss it more openly seem to have an easier, more accepting time with fandom. They can more easily see the good in it while I get distracted by those who take it too far and bring out the bad. I look to see the good but can only find the downfalls, and not because I don't believe in the good but because I fear the bad within myself. And it blurs my vision and highlights what I am unknowingly looking for. While I can easily say most fangirls are not stalkers or obsessive, jealous, jaded fans, it is harder to for me to really believe this when I fear that these same traits are playing out in my mind. I feel like this goes back to the legions of posts I did on body image: I can see the beauty in everyone but myself. I can see the good, noble fan in everyone but me. I'm trying to make things black and white (good traits, bad traits) where there's really a lot of grey. Hell, it's not even grey. It's a multifaceted prism of colors I can't even begin to identify.
In short, it's complicated.
So, if you're still reading this after the unleashing of the box of cats, congratulations. Normally I'd post this sort of nonsense on my personal blog, but it fit here. And I was feeling exceptionally "I must write about my feelings" tonight.
I am making this all kinds of awkward. Alright, alright, I can tell when I need to just shut up and let it end for the night. But for one more added dose of weirdness, I give you this: