Absense makes the heart grow fonder

I have been away from this blog for far too long. It's not that I haven't had things to talk about (I've had plenty) I just found myself busy with other things - summer classes, novel writing, gallivanting about Minneapolis, musing greatly on the elegance of hedgehogs (both blog-wise and novel-wise). I've also found myself thinking greatly about change and feeling much more accepting of it than in the past. Especially as one of my friends from high school got married this summer and, as she was the first to do so in my group of friends, it was a big leap for me mentally. But if there are perfect couples in the world, [action is eloquence] and her husband are it.

www.facebook.com/pages/J-May-Images/142770071996

Also, some time ago I was nominated for the Most Versatile Blogger award by MAG (many thanks for this!)

And I am thus-wise required to provide a list of 7 bloggers who are relatively new to blogging. I don't really have any, so I'm just providing the links to 7 blogs I really love:

1) The Slow Show  / /The Pochyemuchka Diaries  (same blogger, two blogs, so I'm going to count it as one :D)
2) The Black Hole Symposium 
3) Recalculating Route
4) The Jane Austen Film Club
5) Valknut
6) Hollywood Hates Me
7) Atalanta's Antics

I love them all. :D

So that's all for now. More updates coming soon, I think with school starting up again I'll have random stuff to yammer about. But if I'm not around, feel free to check out my other blog: Martin Freeman is not a hedgehog. Cheers!

Welcome new follower!

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I don't know why I used a Mean Girls gif. Don't question it.

Google is intent on turning me into a creep, or: Ooh boy... this is worse than I thought...

Apparently if you Google "Benedict Cumberbatch about future wife" this blog is a possible result (thank you, Stats info on Blogger, for showing me search results that led to my blog and thus leading to this awkward realization).

I'm not exactly sure how to feel about this... Confused? Slightly flattered? Disturbed? (Oh yeah, definitely disturbed). And yet...

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Yeah... that pretty much sums it up. Except for Brad Pitt's bloody nose; actually, the bloody nose is possibly accurate (considering I feel like punching myself in the face. How did I let my fangirling come to this? How? HOW? I'M NOT EVEN THAT MUCH OF A FANGIRL! THE POST IT LINKS TO IS HARDLY EVEN RELEVANT! I HAVE GOT TO STOP EXPRESSING MY INTENSE EMOTIONS THROUGH THE POWER OF CAPS LOCKS!)

I apologize for the weirdness. It's a Tuesday; what can I say?

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GOOGLE!!! *fist shake*

http://www.johnhaydon.com

So I updated to Google+ tonight and just realized that everything I had about myself on the blog - my username and my funny little saying about relating time travel to Doctor Who (which took me FOREVER to write) all disappeared when I integrated my new profile with my blogs. Goddammit.

Oh well. I'll still refer to myself as another name. I'll just pretend I didn't change anything. I'll just lie to myself until I stop regretting and realizing that this entire Google+ things is a confusing waste of my time. Sigh...

In memorium of my once-was description (I think it was basically like this):  If culture is to time travel as being a culture vulture is to being a time traveler, then I'm a mediocre stand-in for Doctor Who. Give me a break, I'm trying my best.

Double Duty

So, I just started another blog, Martin Freeman is Not a Hedgehog. You should check it out, because it's about a fangirls and celebrities and stuff that I talk about here (but feel should be in a separate space so I can easily find these posts, as I think I'm going to do my senior project on fangirls. Isn't being a CSCL major brilliant?)

HOWEVER, I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS BLOG. NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST. This just means I get to blabber on about cultural stuff that doesn't necessarily relate to my obsession with British celebrities. I think you'll thank me later.

Confessions of a Self-Depreciating Fangirl, Part 2

As I was saying, something happened the other day. I became suddenly aware - and obsessed - with a new celebrity.

In case you haven't noticed by his sudden appearance/mention on this blog, it's Benedict Cumberbatch.

Yes, poor Benedict Cumberbatch, poor, poor Benedict Cumberbatch, who has girls declaring themselves to be his future wife because he, unlike so many celebrities fangirls pine over, IS UNMARRIED.

Not that it stops fangirls from obsessing over married celebrities but, you know, the potentiality of this situation not ending tears is slightly less from the fangirl perspective. Here's how it reads to them:

He's not married! He's so talented! He's so handsome - and those cheekbones! And that voice!* If I could meet him - it'd be perfect!

*They always mention his cheekbones. And his voice. Yes, I did bring up his voice before - he sounds like he could be related to Alan Rickman and it's fucking brilliant. But the repetition of the cheekbones thing... yes, he has a very nice facial structure. But talking about slicing tomatoes with his cheekbones... too far, girls. Way too far... 

I had some variation of this thought the other day (minus the cheekbone bit). Part of it ended up in my Sherlock post, as you might have noticed. Which was nothing abnormal - I talk about celebrities. A LOT (and dammit, he DOES have a fabulous name). But I found myself realizing I'd latched on to this fangirl idea of getting married to a celeb. And I freaked.

Okay, a brief history of me as a tween. I began my earliest fangirling when The Lord of the Rings movies came out (Aragorn all the way, baby). And I went pretty hardcore when Gerard Butler played Erik in The Phantom of the Opera. However, I was fourteen, and had absolutely no interest in dating anyone, no matter how wonderful and famous they were. Because I was fourteen and really yet unaware about life in general. Point is, I was not like other teenage girls who were buying shirts that said, "Mrs. Pitt" and "Mrs. Affleck" from Claire's and convinced that somehow, despite the thousands of girls who were wearing those shirts, they were all going to end up married to said celebrities. Even at the age of fourteen, I thought this was baloney.

So somehow, between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one, I've regressed immensely, to a prior state I was never actually at (well, there was a sort of similar instance where for a few days I thought I might actually get an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, but that didn't last too long for me. I wasn't feeling too secure about my studious nature at the time).

Here's probably how it happened: I'm on Tumblr, ensconced amongst all these photos of celebrities, and suddenly I start seeing all these posts about peeps being fanatic about their favorite celebrities. It starts to look normal to me, and I find myself slipping in and doing the same thing. I found who Benedict Cumberbatch was in part BECAUSE OF Tumblr. But here's where it went different, where it didn't morph into a previous favorite actor obsession: the first thing that really caught my attention wasn't just a photo; it was a quote from some article where Cumberbatch - according to a Tumblr user quoting the article ("I saw it on the internet, it's definitely true.") - said that his biggest regret was not having kids by the age of 32.

Whomp. Just like that I was suddenly, emotionally attached to a man I've never met. This is not unusual - this has happened a bajillion times. What WAS different was how I reacted to it, that I didn't just care that he was attractive and intelligent and talented; no, I also cared about his emotional well-being on a level I can honestly say I've never reached before for a person I've never met, never seen in person, never in lived in the same country as. That was warning sign number 1.

Warning sign number 2 was spending more time on Tumblr than on anything else - even my fictional writing. Not because I talk to people on there (I really don't; I don't get how that works with just an ask box and a bunch of photos). No, it was because I wanted to see all of these new photos of my new favorite actor and share in the experience of people knowing who he is. And slowly, I realized I was getting jealous of the other people out there who I once sympathized with; where once I felt we bonded, I suddenly felt jealous of; as if they were trying to prove themselves a better fan than me. Big old warning sign number 3.

And then yesterday, I was on Tumblr and I saw this gif set I'd seen before: Cumberbatch dancing to "Thriller" at a party. Only there were a bunch of comments talking about how it had been stolen from a Facebook profile and that it was not meant to be shown to the public. Tumblr people were asking for it to be deleted and not reblogged and to address whoever had originally posted it it. But it was too late. I was incredibly creeped out.

I began wondering... How may of these other photos out there are NOT supposed to be released to the Internet? And not just for Cumberbatch - for Michael Fassbender, David Tennant, etc. etc. etc. What do these guys actually think of their fans? I mean, I want to be a famous writer - how would I feel if people posted this sort of stuff about me? (Freaked. Totally freaked. I'd appreciate it at first but then once I started seeing stuff about me everywhere, I'd totally flip out.) So why would we treat actors any different than we'd treat ourselves?

Because we idolize them. Honestly, if I met one of the actors I've mentioned, I have no idea how I'd react. I can't truly imagine it. Well, I mean I do imagine it but it's not authentic. In my mind, I'm all cool and collected. In reality, I'd probably be having a fit and pass out or just be too nervous to even say anything.

So there's this conundrum here - the want to treat actors like you would anyone else (because, after all, that's probably what they want and if you want hang out with an actor, you don't want to be the crazy one who's built a shrine out of printer paper and teacups in your room), but also the need to respect them, to express your admiration (which then gets totally carried away here). And you get stuck in fangirling.

So why do we do this to ourselves? Well, fangirling is easier than some other options. Let me explain:

1) As I've mentioned before, it's less riskier than actually getting involved in relationships. Here, the only person who can break your heart is reality - and even that can be eluded for an extended period of time.You keep telling yourself that anything is possible and that you could totally wind up marrying someone famous someday. And you keep those voices in your head telling you you're just being silly silent a while longer.

2) It's easier to let it go than fight it, especially if you're in school. I mean, I sat through 30 plus minutes today in a lecture, discussing the flaws in an experiment. 70% of the things students said were confounds WEREN'T and we spent forever discussing why so. Unfortunately for me, I get this stuff within the first five minutes. And for some inexplicable reason, even as a junior, college is boring for me. So I spend the rest of class bored out of my mind and daydreaming, wishing for an escape. It's no wonder that I want to be swept off my feet by some dashing actor.

3) In relation to the first point, there's this predominate feeling that a lot of these fangirls don't have boyfriends and can't get boyfriends, for whatever reasons. Boys ignore them, they get "friend zoned," they just have bad luck... you get the idea. You know my story. So, it's like this decision that since they can't get a normal guy, they might as well reach for the stars and dream of something impossible.

This all sounds rather sad and disturbing and disheartening, I know. I'm sure all fangirls aren't this way, but the more time I spend on Tumblr, the more I see girls like this. It makes me realize that this part of myself - this repression of obsessing with actors, inability to get a normal boyfriend, dreaming of perfection - isn't as abnormal as I'd thought. But now this powerful, potent release is no longer comforting. It's terrifying. I'm no longer alone, but I still feel the urge to run away from myself. I hate myself for acting this way. But I just feel more insecure, more trapped by my own life - trapped by school, trapped by circumstances, trapped by things I have to do but don't want to - and I'm back to wanting to escape as I was before.

And as much as daydreaming can be fun and wonderful, it can also be dangerous. You've got a good picture of why. My friend [X] once said that most of her life is lived in her head, which I found profoundly sad. Not having actual actions, just dreaming out what you want to do rather than actually being able to do it. While the importance of imagination is great, its power can go too far.

Perhaps my want for action is what made this situation different. I had the sudden urge to meet Mister Cumberbatch. Okay, obviously fan girls want to meet all of their favorite celebrities. I want to meet John Barrowman, but more out of a "wow, we'd be great friends; I feel like I already know him" vein. This current case is markedly different. This is more like, "Hey, I know nothing about him, but I feel like I understand him better than anyone else." Which is totally weird. And probably what 80% of other fan girls feel. So tough shit for me.

However, also in combination with this is the whole issue with photos and videos being released that aren't supposed to be, in which I feel the desire to prove that not all fans are not so incredibly creepy. Which is impossible to do while feeling like a creep. So of course I found myself trying to not be creepy, to try to be a fan without being totally mental about it - an elegant, mature adult who just happens to fancy an actor. While all the time, in the back of my mind, I'm trying to figure out how I could get to London and "stumble across" Cumberbatch during the Olympics or something as equally absurd (because, you know, out of 7 million people there plus however many millions will attend the Olympics, I'm going to be able to find ANYONE). It's a like a constant battle, trying to not feel like a tween about this (it's interesting that all the imagery about fangirling comes from young girls. But that's a topic for another time). And now all this self-reflection, and reflecting upon reflection, is a bit much. I've just got a whole lot of words on a page and no clear idea of where to go from here. All I know is that I want to be recognized for who I am, not a mindless, faceless fanatic. So I'm limiting my time on Tumblr, reminding myself that actors or people to (unlike what Max Bialystok might say in The Producers), and that I am young and naive and very good at being both things and that I might as well accept that I'm going to do stupid stuff. But the least I can do is limit the embarrassment I cause for myself and for others. Because these actors I adore so much deserve better than... whatever this attempt at explanation and apologizing this is. Sorry, great thespians, and, while I won't pretend that you're reading this, I extend an apologia for this league of fangirls. And an extra expression of regret to the fine Mr. Cumberbatch as the unknowing example in this RIDICULOUSLY LONG post (many apologies, dear sir... you've been dragged into the realm of cultural theorizing.). And since this really is an on-going tale and I've no idea how to close this, I'm just going to stop... right... here.

Confessions of a Self-Depreciating Fangirl

I am in denial that this semester is happening. Really. I just remembered today that I have an essay due in my Comedy class (which sounds like a lot more fun than it actually is) next Thursday. And I have a test on Monday in Research Methods. And I have to find research articles for my Research Methods paper. And I have to accept myself that I'm back in school and that, yes, once again, I have found myself swamped with work and sick and living half of my life in mental fantasies that will never, ever happen - this week's includes John Barrowman singing Cole Porter and Benedict Cumberbatch reading great English literature to me while I curl up all warm and cozy on the couch, sneezing (elegantly and lady-like, as if such sort of sneezing was possible) and drinking Earl Grey tea. Like I said, totally impossible. The best I can do is hole up in Espresso Royale between classes and drink Spanish Lattes and read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Charlotte Bronte and try not to panic over having absolutely no control over this semester. And life in general.

I mean, where the hell is this year going? It just started and already we're in the first full week of February! I'm sitting here, with a watch around my neck, and time's all just ticking by me. It's kind of unnerving.

Oh, and I think I got Mo, [Львица]'s cat, sick. I know that diseases aren't supposed to transfer from human to cat, but Mo slept on my bed last night and it was fantastic and comforting, but now she's sneezing. I just feel like everything I'm trying to do to make things easier for myself backfires.

Like writing this blog. I should totally be doing some homework, or essay writing, or research planning, or internship hunting. But I just can't make myself care about those things right now. I need to stop working for a few minutes, to breathe and relax and tell myself I'm not going to break down (and all in the back of my head, I'm thinking about all the stuff we're talking about in my classes, about how the Industrial Revolution has made us all machine-like and it's freaking me out). I go on Tumblr to chill out and see fun pix of my favorite shows and movies, but instead I just get visually attacked by totally beautiful European men - okay, okay British and a couple Irish men, you win, [Львица] - (Barrowman, Cumberbatch, David Tennant, Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Colin Firth, Martin Freeman, James McAvoy, the list continues and seems to grow everyday...) and I feel stalker-ish and, well, for lack of a better word, weird.

Let me set this up for you: I have this absurd desire to be famous. Wow, okay, who doesn't, right? Actually, I never used to care about that sort of thing (well, maybe I did, but I'd convinced myself otherwise). Then something happened - A) I realized that 75% of the people I knew in high school didn't know who I was,* B) I wasn't going to be able to me a music teacher and change lives in a small, sweet way like Mr. Holland, and C) If I couldn't do what I originally planned, then dammit I might was well go big and become the next big American writer. Or some shit like that. And people were finally going to appreciate me and care and it didn't matter that most of my teachers couldn't remember my name and I never got asked to Homecoming or Prom and that one little asshole in my AP Psych class insinuated that I'd never get married. No, none of that would matter when I could roll up to our high school reunion as a fucking millionaire and a best-selling author. And that the fact that they never thought I was cool was an utterly moot point. This is not original. I know. But it's how I've felt since graduation, and it's how I still feel now.

* I'll never forget the time [Broadway Baby] was trying to convince me that people liked me and he asked this guy named Sam who was walking by, "Hey, Sam, do you like [La Maga]?" To which he replied, "Who's [La Maga]?" I'm pretty sure this was a common reaction for most people. Even in my graduating class (which had around 400 people, mind you. My school had 2000 students, so maybe I should stop whining and be glad anyone knew me at all).

So I have an obsession with fame. How American. In turn, I have an obsession with famous people (which I have discussed multitudes of times and will continue to discuss, because I'm a CSCL major and that's what we do. And I just have a lot of feelings). I also have an unfortunate trend of thinking that actors who happen to play my favorite characters or characters I grow to love, who are very handsome/charming/dashing, and say something that I happen to agree with are suddenly the EXACT MAN I AM LOOKING FOR IN MY LIFE. I am not alone in this happening - I see it all across Tumblr. Which is a great sort of, "Hey, look, I'm not alone!" tool - which is nice for the first few weeks. But then you - okay, I - started to get creeped out. Because it's just SO MUCH FANGIRLING.

I can understand a little bit. Okay, John Barrowman is one gorgeous man - I have stated that far too much on this blog. In fact, I had a page in which to try to focus some of the fangirling so as not to make a bunch of nonsense posts. But then I looked at it today and thought it was creepy. So sadly, it is no more. You're welcome, John Barrowman. Not that you read this. Unless you do...

See? See what I did there? FANGIRLS THINK THIS ALL THE TIME. They think that their favorite celebrity is secretly reading their blogs. They think that for some reason, Mr. Famous Talented Handsome Celebrity will swoop down from his very busy, hectic life into their very dull, mundane ones and sweep them off their feet to some exquisite life full of roses and awards shows and awesomeness. I am not making fun of fangirls out of spite. Because I find myself wishing for these same things.

And you know another thing that's stupid? Oscar Season and Valentine's Day - two things that should NOT be this close together. For the sake of the fangirls, it's very, very dangerous. I was wondering if anyone's ever tried to crash the Oscars in order to see their favorite actor (probably yes. I feel like it'd be pretty easy - get a nice dress, tell them you're a Baldwin, you're in). Also, Valentine's Day produces a deep melancholia for most people who are of the single state. Which only doubles the power of the fangirl obsession.

I could very easily let myself continue down this path of constantly blogging photos of celebrities I have crushes on and flipping out over them and being totally obsessive, like a little kid watching a puppy in a shop window (wow, nice self-depreciating imagery there, right? Demeaning actors into puppy-like images. I can't decide if that's truthful or too harsh a way of describing this phenomenon). But the other day, something happened. Maybe it's because I'm tired of feeling stuck between the ages of fifteen and thirty. Maybe it's because my mind is being enlightened because of my On Television class. Maybe it's because my fangirling went to a whole new level.

Regardless, this the longest blog I've written this year. But it's a bit too long. So I'm going to continue this in part two. Readers beware.

A Brief Summary of Current Mundanities

http://www.ewhoknow.com

I was checking my email today when I came across a message from Delta airlines which addressed me as Ms. I'd forgotten I'd chosen that article so I'm sitting at my laptop, a small part of my brain wondering for about two seconds, "Who the hell is Ms. Musto?"

It's been one of those days. I woke up yesterday with my jaw aching like mad and by yesterday afternoon I noticed my left cheek was swollen. When I woke up this morning with my gums now swollen, I knew I needed to go to the dentist ASAP. Turns out I had an infection. Which the dentist remedied by sticking some hook-like instrument into my gum to ease the pressure (and release blood and pus while he was at it). All without any sort of numbing or pain reliever, mind you.

I also appear to be catching a cold. Which seems to be the new norm for the beginning of each semester. Maybe I'm just allergic to course work. :P

In more exciting news, I watched the Superbowl, was not impressed with the ads, and decided Madonna is pretty much fantastic. I will now be listening to "Like A Prayer" on repeat for the next month and no one can stop me.

Oh, and I wrote a letter to Michele Bachmann. Which I hope she'll respond to.

And I realized today that I have my first test of the semester next Monday, in Research Methods, and I have that weird feeling like I fell asleep on a car trip and I've suddenly woken up and I now have no idea what part of the United States I'm in.

I also sprained my ankle last Monday trying to take up running at the gym. After all the years I spent loathing running and now I love it and I actually want to do it and I get backtalk from my pathetically weak ankles. *le sigh.*

So there you go... a random summary of nothing, mainly because I've been rather inconsistent in my blogging so far (curse you, spring semester! This is exactly what happened last year!). But I have been blogging for over a year - yay! I haven't given up on this! I'm still writing! And it hasn't totally lapsed into a fan-girl blog. That means I still have the chance of being taken seriously.

Hehehehe...yeah right. The girl who, within the span of two weeks was confused as being young enough to be in high school by one person AND old enough to have a child old enough to be in high school by another, is not feeling very likely to be taken seriously today. So for now, I'm going to curl up on the couch, wallow in pity, and watch Sherlock. Tomorrow I will "act my age." Whatever that means.

Revealing [La Maga]

So, if you regularly read my blog (which I don't think anyone does, but if you do, I owe you a coffee and infinite adoration) you'll notice I'm no longer [Nazi Vampire Hunter]. I'm now [La Maga]. Of course, none of this really matters because I still identify myself by my first name. But it does matter... oh, yes it does. Because defining one's identity in words is fun and cool and hard to do but I'm driven to do it anyway because I'M A WRITER AND GODDAMMIT I WILL CONQUER THESE WORDS!

I had coffee today. I'm sorry. (No I'm not. I really love coffee).

The deal is, [Львица] changed her name. You see, she was [the major was a lady] but that name has now been switched in all previous posts and, accept for the fact that I love recalling past things and had to mention it here, it will no longer appear on this blog. And, because I'm a copycat and felt like changing mine to something that won't connect my blog to Twilight, Nazis, or Nazi Vampires eating babies, I decided to go with something new. Yes, [La Maga] doesn't sound as kick-ass, but trust me: it's cool in it's own right. At least, I think it is.

Here's where it comes from: back in the day, my compatriots and I got really into tarot somewhere between graduation and the summer after my freshman year in college. I really grew to like [novel killer]'s deck, a design called Paulina Tarot (which you can check out here, if it behooves you). While I'm probably getting scorn for being into tarot from all sides (assumptions that it's all about the occult, assumptions that I'm trying to predict the future in a way that's no more legit than horoscopes and fortune cookies), I DON'T CARE. For one, it's actually based of a European card game and is not inherently about witchcraft, Satan worshiping or any other not-so respectable hobbies. Also, I feel it's a lot more complex than horoscopes, considering it's not just giving you a description of basic personality types that could fit anyone; tarot descriptions are actually pretty particular, there's 72 cards, and the meanings change depending what sort of deck you have. Look, I'm a logical, rational human being, but sometimes, things in life can't be explained by science. I like to think tarot is one of those things. However, I don't expect you to agree with me. Honestly, I have a furious love for the mysterious - I thrive off of these sorts of things.

Anyway, [novel killer] used her deck to answer some questions I had about life. And I was totally blown away. Like it was accurate. Really freaking accurate. And because I like odd, not-so-normal things, I got interested in tarot and decided to buy my own deck. [novel killer] gave me some advice about it, in particular saying to go with the deck that jumps out the most at you, the one you can't get out of your head - because that deck is choosing you. And it happened that the deck I liked most was the same style [novel killer]. So I bought it. And it was brilliant.

http://www.paulina.ws/tarot/1-magician.html

There's this whole series of weird stories I could tell you about my deck - and [novel killer]'s because they: a) each have their own personality and b) are related, but I've probably weirded you all out enough thus far. So I'm going to cut to the chase and talk about the major arcana. The major arcana are twenty-two cards that represent personas, so to say. Death, The Chariot, The Fool... these are all major arcana cards. Anyway, each person has a card that represents them. And when you get a deck and get to know it, you find out which card it is (via a long drawn out process With my deck, it's The Magician - hence La Maga, the Italian for the same word.

Here's the description of the card for my deck:

Infinite possibilities, self confidence, personal power, determination, concentration, action, focus.
Reversed: lack of courage, destructive use of powers, manipulation, confusion.

Do I think that sounds like me? Well, I sure as hell want it to. Look at that card - it's gorgeous. But seriously, out of all of the major arcana card descriptions, this one fits me best.

http://erinmorgenstern.com

But enough of me going about tarot. The reason all of this is on my mind is that I just read one of the best books I've ever encountered in modern fiction: The Night Circus. IT IS AMAZING. I bring it up because it's all about magicians and a tarot reader and a guy who's card is the Magician. And it's absolutely such an amazing, sweet, powerful, romantic book. Everything I want my writing to be, as a matter of fact.

So, long story made longer, I decided to call myself [La Maga] because it encompasses all sorts of things for me. And I'm all about creating stuff - what represents creating better than the infinite possibilities of a magician?

And, yeah, it's one of the first words I ever learned in Italian. Judge me at will.

Also, many many many thanks to [Львица] and [The Question] for dealing with my name change. It's super annoying to go through all those posts. Thanks guys :D

Randomness

I have survived the bulk of my finals (yay!), with only a social psych test (which I can use a cheat sheet on and already have pwned the class) left. So on that note, I would like to share a few random searches that have lead back to my blog.

- Nazi Vampires eating babies: I truly have no idea what this means. Seriously, I don't - something to do with Hellsing, which is a manga I haven't read... so still clueless. Sorry, guys.  I have a feeling such searches have arrived here, very disappointed.

- Byronic hero: Glad to see that one of my favorite character styles from English literature is oft searched after. Perhaps I shall do more follow up on this theme. Just in case would-be high school essay writers need some assistance.

- Nicholas Cage Vampire: Yes. Thank you, urban legends and my weird fascination in them for providing me with page views.

- Stephen Maturin: Ha! Someone else knows who this character by Patrick O'Brian. Win.

- The Producers Leopold Bloom Hysterics: It's really difficult to find funny scenes from this movie, especially this part of it. And according to [Львица], who searched this and ended up back at my blog, really the only available one is posted here. Cool beans.

- John Barrowman looking like Tom Cruise: This is personally my favorite. See, I am not alone in this realization.

http://www.prlookup.com

http://scifi.soentertain.me

Still weird. Will always be weird. And Barrowman will always be hotter.

Also, Tom Cruise looks like Zachary Quinto in this picture:

http://www.charlesayoub.com

http://www.tvpilotlight.com

 OH MY GOD TOM CRUISE STOP LOOKING LIKE OTHER HOT ACTORS. YOU'RE NOT THAT HOT...

Well, maybe he is... a little bit.

AHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOO... God dammit.

The Internet and Social Psych

With this SOPA business in the news and fresh off a social psychology test on de-individuation, I thought it was time to investigate my own internet identity on this blog.

We were discussing in my psych class how anonymity on the internet can lead to terrible things - child porn, bullying, insults thrown everywhere, Godwin's law. Because we're anonymous, we have the chance to de-individuate - to loose ourselves amongst a vast crowd, to get carried away and possible commit terrible, terrible acts.

That's not to say the internet is to blame for all of these problems. Or that de-individuation is always bad (it's not - you could get swept up with a mass of people doing wonderful things. That's just sadly less frequent). There's just an interesting correlation there. SO, after thinking about this, I decided to include my first name, as I'd done before, on my blog identity, simply because I couldn't rationalize being completely anonymous. Besides, I would like to reference this blog on a resume and not freak out would-be employers by identifying myself only as [Nazi Vampire Hunter] online. And if my friends haven't identified my by now... then fine. Yes, I'm still most likely presenting myself online differently than I would in person... mainly because I have the freedom to say whatever and you can't exactly get someone to shut up mid-post (unless you stop reading of course). But [Nazi Vampire Hunter] is just too cool not to use in some fashion... and it's nicely fitting to an aspect of my personality, I'd like to think. Especially in the realm of culture writing. So a Nazi Vampire Hunters I shall remain... just not a completely nameless one :)

Quick note as of 2/2/12: I have changed my online name to [La Maga] for random reasons. Mainly because getting people searching "Nazi Vampires eating babies" and ending up at my blog kinda weirds me out.

SOPA, or: If this is real, my blogging career is over

So I saw this on Tumblr like five minutes ago: If SOPA passes, the following sites could be blocked for US users.

WHAT. THE. HELL.

Here's an article about it.

A Minnesota senator, OUR AMY KLOBUCHAR, supports it.

Really, guys? REALLY?

I don't know if it would actually block Facebook and Twitter from US users. I can't seem to find any articles to support that. However, I can find a website about American Censorship Day, claiming that Facebook will be gone from my life. Along with Twitter, Tumblr, Megavideo - no more Doctor Who and Torchwood! :( - and no YouTube. Not to mention that it seems this blog will cease to exist. Did I make the gifs I put on here? Did I take the photos (some of them, yes). But overall, nada. Call me a pirate. Me and like 90 some percent of my generation.

If this is real, then my creative outlets, innovation sites and business tools are kaput. My hopes of finding an outlet to practice writing, create a web presence and beef up a resume are gone. The chance of aspiring musicians, actors, entertainers, etc to express themselves and post their work will be made far more difficult to attain. So we watch TV shows for free and we sing covers of our favorite songs - guess what? I bet for every song we sing and TV show we watch, we BUY something that compensates. Yes, I watch Torchwood on Megavideo. But I'm planning on buying the seasons and I buy other merch. So we consumers are still buying stuff, if that's your worry. We're not going to fuck you over, music/movie/media industries. We LIKE you. We buy stuff, we do. We respect what you do. We just don't like spending loads of money for single songs, TV seasons, cable. And if you haven't noticed, American TV is ridiculous and Netflix has decided to suck. So... can you really blame us?

I don't like censorship. Lemme just make that clear. I don't usually get super in-your-face political, but this is something I really care about. I love how accessible the internet is - anyone can post anything. Yes, that causes problems - LOTS of problems. But seriously, I think this is the least of your worries. Could you maybe work on catching people who post child porn or something? That seems a little more vital to the integrity of our country than, you know, the guy at the U of such-and-such downloading a Katy Perry song for free. IMHO.

So if you happen to be as outraged as me and worried just enough that this totally legitimate, visit the American Censorship Day website and sign their petition. Let's just hope this is just a lot of ruckus over something that won't pass, that we've overblown into a monstrosity. But these days - who knows?

I can't tell if I'm going more anarchist or more libertarian. God help us all if I become either one.

Brevity

When I was little, my parents were amazed how much I talked after school got out, because I was quite during the day but had loads to say when I got home. I used to say I had too many words in my mouth.

That's apparently still a problem. Sorry about the longs posts... I'll try to amend that in the future.

But no promises. I'm still a wordy little weirdo :D

Doubt, Blogging, and Life

Sometimes I don't know why I write this blog. Here lately I've begun to wonder if it's just a waste of time. It's not academic, nobody really wants to hear me talking about my life, how great I think Torchwood is, how I'm obsessed with British culture and Byronic heroes. Sometimes I wonder why I thought this was a good idea in the first place.

This, of course, comes up because I'm terrified that I'm doing things wrong. My whole life, I've worked for I don't know what... and it's terrifying to recognize that. I'm here in school, basically marking time now until I graduate and trying to find things that set me up and make me look distinctive for an internship that I, until recently, have only dreamed about getting. Well, am still dreaming about getting. I can see it in my own reality... it just seems too fantastic. I think of it as the impossible dream for a reason. But I don't know what I'm doing. If things don't work out, what am I left with? Is blogging really every going to pay off? What if I never finish writing any of the countless things I've started? What if I don't get any internships and graduate with no idea of what I want to do in life?

These questions really start to bog me down, especially after the event I just experienced. I was supposed to let the roofer into the apartment building to do some maintenance, I couldn't find him anywhere. I couldn't call him back because I didn't have his number and, when I did get his number, it was an hour after I was supposed to meet him and I'd already spent a half an hour walking around the outside of the building looking for him. Apparently he was there for about five minutes and left so it totally wasn't my fault. BUT I WAS PISSED. It made me feel so small, so powerless. This job is already rough sometimes because every once in a while, I get the feeling that people don't believe we can actually do this job because we're women. And then I feel like I just can't do this job because I'm 20 years old and I don't exactly look like a manager. And then I just feel like shit. So basically I was just pissed off about being treated like shit. And suddenly, all the things that had made my day good seemed unimportant and trivial. So what if Jules, my CSCL advisor, said that there's absolutely no reason not to try for the Late Late Show internship? So what if I overcame the bystander affect we were talking about in psych class and didn't assume that someone was going to return the key I found in the bathroom and instead returned said key to a very grateful woman in the writing center? So what if I feel like I'm actually going to have an interesting (if totally embarrassing) Nanowrimo story this year? So what if I totally have a celebrity crush on John Barrowman and dream about working for Craig Ferguson and want to be a famous writer? None of that matters because I suck at my job and no one respects me and no one cares about me and I fail at life. At least that's how I felt until I had a little cry, vented to [Львица] and listened to the title song from the musical "Sunset Boulevard" because it's been stuck in my head all day (again, showtunes invading my mind...)

Clearly, I don't suck at my job, people respect me, people care about me and I don't fail at life. But it's hard to think about and appreciate all the things I've accomplished when so many things I want are just... so lofty. I don't think I'm an egotist, I just think I ask a lot out of life. But when am I asking too much? But I so, so so much want to believe this:

Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I be allowed to dream crazy dreams? Why shouldn't I be allowed to try for something incredible? The real trick to all this is keeping my hopes up without getting to overconfident and then totally destroying and disappointing myself. But why shouldn't I at least dream about interviewing, getting the internship, meeting celebrities, just a little bit? It keeps me motivated. It keeps me positive. It keeps me sane.

Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more than what I am to prepare myself - working at some job half the time or leading some student government position or something. But some of those things aren't who I am. And there is only so much I can do in the time that has been given to me. Which is a frightening, staggering thought on many levels... though it's got a nice Lord of the Rings vibe to it. Yes, I don't have much time left before I graduate, before that deadline for the internship is due, before I have to decided what I'm going to do with my life before I kick the bucket and accept that mortality is a fact of life. Unless you're Jack Harkness, of course. But on that plus side, I shouldn't make myself do things I don't really want to do or give up things that truly matter to me. I'm going to run out and overwork myself and let my grades suffer just to impress someone. I'm not going to get involved with something I don't really care about. I'm not going to give up blogging just because I don't have that many followers or I feel like no one cares what I think or because Blogger will never recommend it to anyone and pretends this page doesn't exist.  I don't blog for anyone, exactly - I blog because I can. I blog because I enjoy it. I blog for me.

Because when things get rough, it's nice to know that I have this thing, this creation of mine to fall back on. It's a nice comfort. Not to mention I'm finally happy with how the layout looks.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm to stop blogging for a while and go write the worst romance novel ever written and stop being such a gloomy schmuck. Ridiculous sappy storyline - Go!

Google, I have underestimated you...

Again, technology has proven to me that I should never, never NEVER judge it only by face value.

Take Blogger (run by Google) for example. The entity that it is and I have had a long string of miscommunications. Such as not telling me that I could update Blogger and do cooler things with my blog until I'd already complained about it for two weeks and resulted in me looking like an idiot. And then I tried using Google Chrome, only to find that it did nothing different than Firefox. And then I've had a million little squabbles with Gmail, because my university email system runs on Google and it doesn't cooperate and...

*Sigh*... It's not really Google's fault... technology is just complicated. But don't you think, Google overlords, some things could be made a little simpler?

But then today.... ah, today. I discovered that Google has some pretty awesome capabilities that make my life as a culture vulture much easier. They are as follows:

1) Google Image Searches just got badass: You can now search BY images. You can drag it into the search box and it will guess what you're looking for. TRY IT. It makes me feel like a 21st century techno-nerd. And finally I can figure out what the hell these random images I've stumbled across online are.

2) Google trends: Find out what hot searches are (today's top five are Seal Beach CA, David Ortiz, Texas Rangers, Danielle Chiesi, and Ellen Degeneres Show). Also find a way to drag into your website people for no reason other than the fact you mentioned something you searched for (hey, it's working pretty well on the post with the Nicholas Cage vampire photo. If you were looking for the photo and got directed here, sorry about that. Isn't Google just a blast? :P)

3) Google Zeitgeist: Okay, admittedly, this kept freezing on my computer, but it's supposed to show you how cultural trends were searched over the course of the year across the globe. Like it can show you a graphic of how many people searched about information regarding the South Africa World Cup and which countries searched it the most. It's pretty cool - if you can get it to work.

This being said, I am now having trouble getting comment boxes to appear on my blog after changing the format. I select that comments should be allowed and Blogger immediately forgets I've done it. So, what have we learned about technology today, children? It's complicated, it's wonderful, it's trying my patience, and we couldn't live with out it. Now to see if I can finally get those comment-y things to work right...

Again with the updating... and the changing...

Yes, yes, I know. I changed how the blog looks again. But I just got a Tumblr (yay for Tumblr! Check it out at http://culturevulture0.tumblr.com/) and, after doing the whole layout thing, I realized that the orange here is tad to harsh on the eyes. So I went with a nice "soft, coal black." So yeah. There you go. Enjoy the new layout.

The Impossible Dream Returns!

I have a confession to make.

I am a dreamer.

You probably know this by now. Perhaps there is some essence of "dreamerism" that pervades my writing. Or because I write about the possibility of Nicholas Cage being a vampire without really addressing the point that vampires PROBABLY AREN'T REAL.

I'm also a Scorpio. I think being a dreamer is just a side effect.

Um... maybe we feign interest because we're daydreaming?

Anyway, point is, I have ridiculous hopes and expectations. Many of which I am  my rational side and my dreamy side are constantly fighting over. And things get complicated.

I actually started blogging last summer (the summer before sophomore year) because I decided I wanted to try to get an internship on the Late Late Show. And I thought blogging would be a good way to build my resume. Except that blog kind of died out when school started up again AND I HAD TO BLOG FOR CLASS. It made me a better blogger (I hope) but it also kept me from doing personal writing for a while. And then I had the idea that I wanted to go for grad school for Cultural Studies.

And then I surrounded myself with grad students in a lecture about Hegel and realized that GRAD SCHOOL WOULD KILL ME. So I spent the rest of the year trying not to die (never take 18 credits that involve two night classes - EVER) - and I created this blog. Which is now being used for various nefarious purposes.

And then, after seeing Craig Ferguson live, I realized that I AM TOTALLY STUPID. I stopped thinking about the internship only because no one seemed to think it was possible, that no one seemed to believe I was able to do it (*cough, [X],* *cough, [novel killer]*). Would I like to work in television? I think so. Would I like to work for the funniest comedian in existence? Hell yes!

Do I have the right major for this sort of thing? Who cares! After dropping in at Radio K (which is as close to working for television as I'm going to get around here; not the same but the same general idea at least) I learned that half the volunteers are at least CSCL minors and I already ran into a few fellow psych majors. Do I have enough job experience? Well, thanks to this little run with the apartment, maybe so. Do I have any idea what L.A. is like? Fuck no.

Which is probably going to be my biggest problem.

I'm not the sort of person who ever dreamed of going to L.A. or running of to make it big in Hollywood. My yearning for fame always came from book writing. And music. And acting in the theater. Those sort of ridiculous things. Not Hollywood.

So it's strange for me, to say the least, to actually want to go to Hollywood now. Although it's not really the location - it's the show. It's so rare for me to find something that I really, really intensely like. I might be passionate, but only regarding a few selected things. Like 19th Regency romance novels. Stories involving life at sea. Scotland. Complicated psychological dramas that often involve sci-fi/fantasy themes. Things that I keep bringing up again and again and again... I mean, I like many things. But there are only a few certain things that I REALLY REALLY LIKE.  Thus it probably is for most people.

Anyway, my long-winded point is, I am sometimes incredibly picky. Especially regarding humor. The fact that I can watch Craig Ferguson and that he always makes me laugh seem to be a sign that he is, at least, a demi-god.

Seriously, I love humor, it's like my favorite genre of... life - but I am SO PICKY. I'm one of those people who can sit in a theater and watch a comedic film and not laugh at anything (exactly how I felt when I saw Bridesmaids. But I'm wondering if that had to do with extenuating circumstances). I have watched George Lopez and David Letterman and not even smiled. Generally, I like Monty Python, but The Life of Brian just made me uncomfortable. Maybe because I was watching it with [hahahaha SHUT UP].

So it makes me really happy that the Late Late Show is something I: A) find funny, B) can relate to, C) is the most un-L.A. thing in L.A. and D) something I feel like I could be a part of. Thus, the impossible dream.

A little Broadway, a little Sinatra - FOR THE WIN.

Of course, there are some difficulties with this whole crazy plan:

1) The intership would have to happen next summer. Or I would have to decide to add an extra year of school - thus a five year degree. Which means more money spent on college.

2) I would have to make sure the U actually will allow me to get credit for this internship. Otherwise I can't do it.

3) I would have to have AN AMAZING RESUME AND NOT FUCKING GET NERVOUS AND MAKE MYSELF LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT.

4) I would probably have to learn how to drive, since transportation around L.A. sucks.

5) I would have to figure out where the hell I'd be staying in a town I've never been to.

Oh, yeah, and this....

6) I WOULD ACTUALLY HAVE TO GET THE BLOODY INTERNSHIP IN THE FIRST PLACE.

The requirements seem pretty loose; they don't make any mention of needing any previous experience in TV. But I have no idea what I'm competing against. Maybe all TV interns just want to go to the Daily Show or the Colbert Report and so it won't be as competitive as it could be. But then I think about all the kids who are majoring in communications - and all the ones who aren't - that would totally love to do this. AND I FEEL TOTALLY FUCKED.

But I am not giving up. NOT THIS TIME.  I'm going to go for it. It's what I want to do - the only thing I really want to do, other than write and blog and watch movies and British TV shows and talk about hipster music. So what if it's a big mistake? I've got a lot more to make (thank you, Gossip Grows on Trees, for that awesome line. For that, I shall introduce you to Radio K).

FYI

Yoko Ono is following me on Twitter. I am astonished.

YES, that Yoko Ono. There's a pun in here. I hope you get it.

Am I really that exciting? Well, now I have to be. Now I feel like I actually have to have standards. Less griping, more creative blogging. To the Cloud!

Update Complete

I have FINALLY after a month finished remodeling this blog. And accepted that I shall call myself by a pseudonym - so no more worrying about whether anyone will find this blog and know who I actually am. Though it's still totally possible. Really, I just wanted to use a fake name since I gave one to everybody else.

So there you go - update done. Let's rock and roll.

The frenzy at the end of summer, or: reality sucks

So I got this text yesterday, from [X], who I honestly wasn't expecting to hear anything from for the rest of the summer:

Hey, I'm en route to {school} and I just wanted to say I'm sorry we haven't hung out or talked in a while... Things have been CRAZY with me and I'm sure you've been busy too. I just wanted to say good luck this year, I'm thinking about you, and stay in touch :)

All of this right after I was debating whether or not to message her about how her trip to Chicago, or whether or not she ever read the message I wrote to her about how things with [No-Mr-Darcy] panned out. Or whether she's stumbled across this blog and now hates me (I do have a link to this on my Facebook account, but considering most people don't look at my profile, I didn't think much of it. Though according to the stats on Blogger, people have used Facebook to look at my blog... but who? Maybe I'm just being paranoid...)

I wish things were simpler, like in kindergarten. Back then, you liked people or you didn't like people. You got along with some kids and not with others. But now... now I seriously get along with like three people from high school. What the hell happened?