Done with finals, done with this semester. Hello, summer!
Oooooooh, I kissed a boy tonight. Several times. ;))))))))))))
Relax, it just was for a play. XD
But seriously, my life has been going GREAT lately. The opera at my college (which I was a lead in) is finally over, yay. I got cast as Mistress Quickly in Henry V, which is a small but awesome role (not many lines to memorize, phew). Last night, I got an award from my college’s arts department as the theatre major with the highest GPA. B) Oh and also, this guy told me, “you really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” I don’t like him that way or anything, but still, praise is always nice.
Do you know what my mom said to me the other day? I was talking about how when I’m in a room with a lot of people, I feel awkward because I feel like people are staring at me. She said, “well, for one thing, you’re stunningly beautiful, which is unusual for a fat girl. And secondly, you’re kind of a force to be reckoned with.”
Actor. Writer. Director. Singer. Generally brilliant all around. l kinda get what she means.
Oh, boy. Now I’m getting the big head. You know what? I’ve had this inferiority complex for so goddamn long, it’s NICE to actually feel good about myself for once. I’m not gonna be ashamed of it. – TRL
It’s no secret, 2016 has sucked massive eggs. A raging fascist pumpkin was named the next President of the United States, with Satan himself as his VP. Brexit happened. David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Muhammad Ali, Prince, Carrie Fisher, and her mother Debbie Reynolds, all passed away this year. The Pulse shooting in Orlando. The murder clowns. The death of Vine. Fucking Harambe.
And I’m sure there were other offences that I missed. It seems like mostly everyone is in agreement that 2016 was the pits.
Personally for me, this was a taxing year. I’ve never worked as hard in school as I have this past semester. The US election, as a queer woman and also as, you know, a decent, sane human being, has been so emotionally upsetting for me. There wasn’t even any Doctor Who this year to lessen the blow.
But, I’m here to talk about some good things: the Sherlock special in January. Leo finally getting his well deserved Oscar. Hamilton took off in a big, big way (and so did Lin-Manuel Miranda). Captain America: Civil War, Doctor Strange, and Deadpool all came out (and they were amazing). I got to be in a play this summer, and work on a webseries with my friends. Because I worked so hard, my grades for this semester were really good. I got a lead role in my college’s opera. A really hard to please teacher gave me her approval.
So yes, 2016 was really fucking bad. But I like to think it was made to challenge us, and here we are, still here. We rose to the occasion. So let’s breathe easy these last three weeks, and use the holidays as a time to recooperate, and thank the higher power that this awful year is over.
Besides, Johnlock is going to be canon in January of 2017, so that’s at least something to live for.
Thanks for reading, commenting, and sticking with me this year. I know this blog doesn’t reach a lot of people, but if you are reading this, just know that I’m thankful for you. Here’s to a much better 2017. ~TRL
More than likely, you’ve watched a TV show or movie where the protagonist and their same sex opponent have…weird sexual chemistry. Maybe the villain gets up in the main guy’s personal space; maybe they make lewd innuendoes; maybe they tell the hero they were meant to be together or something. Sounds romantic, almost, in a really twisted way.
I’ve been thinking about this lately, about why a lot of villains are Ambiguously Gay, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not a matter of homophobia (necessarily). Let me explain. On my blog post about Hannigram, I talked a bit about enemyslash, and why I thought Bryan Fuller chose to inject his series with an overdose of homoerotic subtext (if it can even be called subtext anymore). I mentioned that it was Hannibal’s intention to seduce Will to the dark side. Emphasis on the word seduce. In a similar fashion, Passion Of The Nerd covered the lesbian subtext between Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane in Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Faith represents Buffy’s shadow self, Slayer power left unchecked. If Faith is symbolic of temptation to act out of selfish wants instead of duty and the desire to do good, it would make sense, then, that Faith would be…tempting.
Often times in film and television, the main character’s archnemesis reflects them, is their dark half, like Iago in Shakespeare’s Othello. A classic archetype for this equation is Professor Moriarty from Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes adventures. Both Holmes and Moriarty are geniuses, but whereas Holmes uses his wits to defeat crime and do good, Moriarty employs his in committing the crimes. Which is why BBC Sherlock, a slow burn gay romance between the famous consulting detective and his army doctor life mate, has produced one of the most overtly homosexual Moriartys in Holmes canon history (thank you, Moffat and Gatiss).
Usually, the dark mirror half can recognize themself in the light mirror half, and wants to combine their forces to be even stronger. Thus, the villain must seduce the protagonist to the dark side. To better mirror the two characters, they’re often made the same gender (since, you know, men and women can’t be equals, right?), so when you produce Doctor Evilman trying to coax Goodguy Heromale to the dark side, ho yay is bound to follow.
Course, I could be completely wrong and it could all be a plot for the viewing public to associate queerness with being evil, but I like to think positively, you know? ~TRL
Once again I’ve gotten into an argument over the new Ghostbusters film coming out, this time with my mother. She doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal to me that there’s a movie with four semi-diverse women as the heroes. When I pointed out to her [note here that I love 1984’s Ghostbusters; it’s one of my favorite movies of all time] the sexist flaws of the original (the date rape implications about Pete and Dana and the thorazine, yeesh), and some other classic movies besides, we broke out into a full fledged fight.
See, my mother, like most of the Baby Boomers and Generation X don’t get why we, the millennials, fight so hard to change our society. They don’t see the systemic sexism/racism/exclusion of minorities in mainstream media because they’ve been conditioned by it for so long, and they just don’t care. My mother doesn’t see the flaw in only having only two semi-large female roles in a major motion picture, especially when their characterizations boil down to “generic love interest/damsel in distress” (sorry, Sigourney) and “generic, monotone, vaguely Jewish, dowdy secretary” (which is stupid because Annie Potts is beautiful; she could have gone ‘busting instead of sending out that loser Louis Tully). I don’t think the makers of the original film were trying to be malicious towards women, but it’s 2016. The time for reform in media over the representation of women has come.
The world has enough Snow Whites, Bella Swans, and Anastasia Steeles. It needs more Princess Leias, Ripleys, Buffy Summerses, or hell, even Sarahs from Labyrinth. Strong, independent women. I don’t see why women have been simplified to just objects in the media. We have hands and minds and voices – we should be allowed to be shown using them! Women did not come from a man’s ribs: men came from women’s wombs. I’m so glad I live in an age where people are just beginning to see that.
*sips from a wine glass filled with the male tears over the Ghostbusters remake*
Last post of May!
So, it’s time for a little rant. So, I drove up to Waco, Texas, today to run an errand, and I thought, since rent is due tomorrow, I’d run down to my apartment complex to pay it.
Now, I usually pay it online, but today I went into the front office to pay it. But apparently…they don’t take credit cards there. I’m like, it’s the 21st century and y’all don’t take f**king credit cards?
So the receptionist tells me I can only my card online. So I have to go back outside (in the pouring rain) to get my laptop out of the car, then I go upstairs to my flat to log on onto my Wi-Fi to pay on the website.
Except that the elevator’s broke down.
So I slog up 4 flights of stairs (several times, long story), and I get into my apartment, I get on the website…
Rent’s not posted yet.
You have one job: take my money. Get it together, apartment complex.
Hey, guys. I’m just going to be a little introspective here.
So, I’m an artist. And being an artist, as my professor always says, means taking risks. But lately, I’ve noticed, I’ve been curling more and more into myself at the fear of failure. Too afraid to sing out, or try for a part in a play, or even answer a question because I’m just so scared.
You know, all my life, I’ve had nothing but people at every turn telling me how wrong I am. That I’ll never do better than second place, I’ll never quite make the mark, I can’t do anything right – okay. Maybe that’s not people. Maybe that’s me. But all my little failures and embarrassments over the years have just built up and built up and built up into this inferiority complex. You’re not smart. You’re not capable. You can’t do anything. Why do you bother getting up in the morning? Just stay in bed and binge on Netflix forever. You’ll never be good enough, at anything. Just stop.
It’s the reason why I haven’t been able to bring myself to practice my music or memorize any lines for anything lately, because I am just so sad and so tired of fighting for nothing and so beaten. I didn’t know, at first, what was wrong with me. I used to be so driven. I just feel like a chump in everyone’s eyes. A nothing. A big, fat, loser.
Then I realized: they see me that way because I see me that way. I have taught myself to believe that I can’t accomplish anything, so I don’t work hard, and then I fail, and then people believe that I’m a loser, which makes me believe I’m a loser, which makes me give up, which makes me fail…and so on, and so on, and so on.
I used to watch this cartoon when I was little, called Rescue Heroes. And there was one episode, one quote, that always stuck with me: “The only real failure is giving up.”
Maybe I’m the one who has to break this vicious cycle. And no, it’s not so easy to believe in yourself, to learn how to love yourself. But I have to believe that there’s hope. And maybe…that has to start with me. ~TRL