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Monday, February 6, 2012

It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate...


I don’t want to talk about Tyler Clementi’s suicide, at least not exclusively, or, not as the main focus.

This all could have gone differently. If Clementi had been in a slightly better place, if he had a better support system or had been better equipped to handle the situation, or had a better sense of self worth he might still be with us and the story of the roommate who spied on him would have become one of those crazy roommate stories we tell at parties, always sure that our freshman year roommate was the craziest.  The pendulum could have even swung to the other side completely and this could have become the incident that changed Tyler’s life making him stronger and catapulting him into a life of helping other gay teens stand up for themselves and realize that “it gets better”. We hear those stories all the time. I don’t want to talk about Tyler Clementi’s suicide because even if he hadn’t killed himself he would still deserve justice.

It breaks my heart that Tyler Clementi killed himself but as much as the incident with the web cam may (or may not, I didn’t know him so I really can't say for sure) have been the catalyst for his suicide, as someone who has been battling depression for years, I know that it takes more than one douchebag to make you decide that life is not worth living. I do not hold Dharun Ravi solely responsible for Tyler’s death but people need to understand that their actions have consequences.

The true crime here isn’t one of intent. I do not think that Dharun was trying to lead Tyler to harm himself, in fact, I don’t even think he really meant to hurt Tyler at all. The crime here is that Dharun was so consumed by ignorance and fear that he didn’t really see Tyler as a person at all. He didn’t understand Tyler and his ignorance and confusion spawned fear that kept him from seeing Tyler as a person who had feelings that could be hurt, a person who deserved the same respect that Dharun would have expected for himself. The crime here is that because Tyler was different, because he was gay, Dharun saw him as an object that he could experiment on, as a toy he could play with and share with his friends.

I’m not making excuses for Dharun, just because I believe that he was acting out of fear doesn’t mean that I believe that he should get a pass. From all accounts he is an intelligent kid, he’s just not a very nice one. I’m afraid almost every day of my life, that doesn’t mean that I go around punching people in the face. I know better, and somewhere under the fear, Dharun knew better too.

I’d like to believe that if Tyler Clementi were alive Dharun Ravi would still be facing charges. But maybe it all just would have been swept under the rug. Probably. It’s easier for a university to make unflattering stories go away when there isn’t a body. Suicide makes for a better story than bullying. If he had lived Tyler Clementi would be a victim, now he’s a martyr. Now he’s someone to rally behind, to set up charities in honor of and write blogs and articles in the New Yorker about.

I wish Tyler had felt that his life was worth saving and that he had reached out to someone instead of jumping. I wish that he had gotten a new roommate and made new friends and fallen in love and one day brought grandchildren home to his parents. I wish that he had lived long enough to change his major a couple of times and I wish that I could have heard him play his violin. But mostly I wish that he hadn’t died because neither he nor his roommate knew quite how to deal with the fact that he was gay.

I’m not one for legislating thoughts. You want to believe that homosexuals are deviant perverted people with a diabolical agenda? Fine. Just as long as you believe that they are people. 

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Coming late to the Revolution



My new year didn’t start at quite as I hoped it would. New Year’s Eve was a rollercoaster, followed by a hang over and a week and half long sickness that caused me to cancel a mini break that I had been looking forward to for quite a while.

But my sinuses are no longer struggling to see which can fracture my skull first so things are looking up and it’s about time I stopped wallowing and started making something of 2012. So, I’ve joined the revolution.


I have been watching Rosianna complete Channel 4’s challenges with more than a little bit of envy for the past 14 days before it occurred to me that I didn’t have to be envious. So what if I don’t live in Britain and watch Channel 4? The internet doesn’t discriminate (or at least has no way of knowing that my gmail account isn’t located in the United Kingdom)!

I need something to shake me a bit, get me out of myself and my fear and general malaise and laziness. So this is me joining the revolution!

Day 15: Watch a Classic Movie that you’ve never seen

Which meant that I now had validation for sitting on the couch. “I’m not being lazy I’m being part of the revolution! No, really! Could you get me some chips?”

I read A Clockwork Orange in college but I’d never seen the movie, until now. It is brilliant and disturbing and heart wrenching and did I mention that it was disturbing? I’m not going to write about it in depth because the film has been around for 40 years and I’m sure it has been dissected and analyzed to death by now. And I’m not a film critic. And I just don’t feel like it.

What I do feel like is getting some strawberries and watching the bits of the Golden Globes that have Ricky Gervais in them.

I’ll be back tomorrow for the next challenge.

Viva La Revolution!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Always Winter and Never Christmas

I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been waiting till I settled into a better frame of mind before hoisting myself upon the masses but it’s winter and my mood has been getting worse, not better so I figured fuck it, the only people who stumble upon my blog are Russians searching for depressing sentences* so, really, this is right up their alley.

So, here’s the deal, I’m depressed.

Well, when I’m at work I’m pretty much ok. I do my job in a surprisingly cheerful manner. I help out and joke around with my co-workers. It’s not an act. I’m actually feeling what most would describe as happiness, or at least contentment. Then I get home and it’s like I stepped through the wardrobe into a Narnia without Aslan.

The funk has been slowly building for a while. I wasn’t happy in my relationship so I ended it. And then I became more-un-happier. Then my brother got engaged. Then my cousin got engaged. And it’s not that I’m not happy for them (cause I really, really am), it’s just that I would be happier for them if I were happier for me.

The cherry on the top was developing a silly little office crush that made me feel like an awkward twelve year old. And believe me when I tell you that I did not enjoy twelve the first time around and was not happy to go there again. I’m thirty, damnit, (God, that’s frightening to see typed out) when does the "I am woman hear me roar" kick in?

I miss my ex. And I miss having a boyfriend. Especially now with Christmas just about here. I want to snuggle and watch The Muppet Christmas Carol. I want someone to get me and love me and hold my hand while we’re walking to the car. But I don’t have any of that and it doesn’t look like I’ll be checking them off my list anytime soon so instead, I wallow.

This weekend I bailed on attempts at social interaction so that I could stay home and self medicate with hot chocolate and ABC Family holiday specials the way alcoholics self medicate by getting knackered and assaulting police officers.

Something called “Holiday in Handcuffs” made me cry. It’s about a woman (Melissa Joan Hart) who suffers a bit of a nervous break down and kidnaps a man (Mario Lopez) so that she can bring him home for Christmas to pretend to be her boyfriend. And then they fall in love. You have no idea how embarrassed I am typing this right now. There were actual tears falling out of my face and I think I’m going to go find a sword to fall on because really what’s the point of going on if you're jealous of Stockholm Syndrome love?

I also watched “Christmas Cupid” and “Christmas Caper” and then I fell into a coma.

The thing is, on the grand scheme of things I have a pretty great life. I get that. I’m grateful for that. It just doesn’t feel all that great right now. It’s pretty messed up how the one thing I’m missing makes all the things I do have (great friends, family, job, roof over my head, a savings account, free time to do things that I love) seem so insignificant. It’s just wrong. But I feel what I feel and all I can do is push through the forest and hopefully the ground will start to thaw and it will be Spring somewhere.


*No, seriously, I looked up my stats there is a surprising amount of Russian traffic here- I really have no idea why. Also, an alarmingly large number of people google “depressing sentences” and find my blog. Most depressing sentence ever Is the 3d result. Look at me making a name for myself on the googles.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Yay!

Yeah, I'm really really bad at blogging consistently. It's a good thing I only have 3 followers. No one to disappoint!

I have a new story up at Toasted Cheese. I wrote it for their Three Cheers and a Tiger contest. One of the guidelines was that it had to be written in a weekend, so, please be gentle people!

Toasted Announcements: The December issue of Toasted Cheese is here!: http://bit.ly/v8X7SG

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

you just keep on trying till you run out of cake

Walking through the streets of Manhattan and you see a guy dressed like this.
Now, is he attending the con or does he just live here? (photo from Geeks of Doom) I heart NY.

I'm fairly certain if all the cosplayers at NYCC had gotten together they could have successfully robbed a series of banks in Manhattan. Something to think about for next year. Nerds of the World Unite and Take Over!

NYCC '11

Even though the stark underground panel rooms of the Javitz Center remind me of a poorly funded city college (I know, I went to one, it was all eerily familiar) I have a special place in my heart for NYCC. It may not have glitz and glamour and celebrities swinging from palm trees like it's more fashionable sibling, SDCC, but I can't ever seem to get tickets to SDCC and NYCC is in my back yard so, you know, <3. I go to cons for the panels. The show floor always kinda leaves me meh, every time I see something shiny either I can't fight my way up to it or the crowd pushes me past it and instead of struggling for a better look I decide to just search for it online. Where I'll probably find it cheaper anyway. The one exception to my show floor ennui was last year when Jeff Lemire took the time to not only sign my Sweet Tooth #1 and The Nobody but also leave me with some lovely little doodles. That was awesome. Last year I went from panel to panel to panel, often forgetting to eat, sometimes remembering to pee. I got into every panel I wanted, even the insanely popular Walking Dead preview. Last year was awesome. This year there were more attendees and less panels. The Felicia Day panel was full before I woke up in the morning. People started lining up for the Avengers panel approximately 8 hours before it started. So, NYCC was a bit of a mixed bag for me this year. Here's a run down of the good, the bad, and the ugly of NYCC '11. Or, at least, what I got to experience of it. The Good: The Science Chanel Panel:



Michio Kaku. I can't imagine ever not being a Michio Kaku fan girl. I could listen to him talk for hours, days, maybe even years if someone orders out for pizza. He is the Barack Obama of Science. My only gripe is that he was part of a panel instead of having his own again. The panel was excellent though. I LOVE the Science Chanel and I am very much excited for both Ridley Scott's new series, The Prophets of Science Fiction, and for Trek Nation.

Brian Greene: His books make my head hurt. I love things that make me feel stupid, like there's always going to be something else to learn and I'm never going to understand it all no matter how hard I try. The clips from his upcoming NOVA special were the perfect balance of cheesy visual effects and mind blowing science. Also, Brian Greene is vegan. Yay.


Brian Greene sitting at the table, Sweet Tooth sitting in front of me.





Nerdist Podcast Live:
Ok, so TECHNICALLY this wasn't part of the con. So what. It was probably the best part of MY con.
1. This podcast has some really awesome fans, the kind of people that make standing in line for an hour, and then watching the same 4 video game trailers over and over and over, actually an enjoyable experience.

2. Matt Mira's stand-up. Everyone was funny to the point of making my face hurt but Matt Mira's set was by far my favorite of the night (don't fight boys, I love you all).

3. The whole darn thing was just a bundle of good times. And there were posters. Got mine signed. I never do well with the whole autograph thing though, mostly because if I like you enough to be willing to stand on line for your autograph then I probably want to impress you and once I want to impress someone I almost certainly never will. So I wind up standing around awkwardly aloof. Which explains my track record with guys. Yeah...

I only took one really crappy picture of Chris Hardwick. Now that I'm posting this blog I'm wishing I had some shots of all the guys but I was just too busy laughing to think about it at the time. c'est la vie.
God, that guy's skinny.




THE BAD

Disorganization: How frustrating is it to wait on line for over an hour only to watch people just walk right in to the panel you're waiting for.

Line Cutters: Yes, fezzes are cool but if you're dressed as The Doctor, chick, you should use your powers for good!

The Roddenberry Panel: It was almost exactly the same panel as last year. So, that was kind of a disappointment.

Breaking into Comics the Marvel Way: The panel was a misnomer. In reality it was an extended Q&A session where all the questions and answers were the same and no one told us "the way" to "break into" comics. What I took away from the panel is that there really isn't a way to break into comics, especially if you're a writer. Just keep writing and cross your fingers a lot. Though, it's kind of hard to do both at the same time.

THE UGLY

The Kevin Smith Clusterfuck:

Sigh. Just, you know, sigh. So many things went wrong that we just wound up getting a refund and leaving. Which totally bummed me out. We were really looking forward to seeing the Jay and Silent Bob Get Old Podcast. But: 1 Javitz Center employee yelled at us for being in the wrong line (we weren't), cursed out volunteers for putting us in the wrong line (they didn't, all the volunteers were pretty awesome) and made us move from the front of the line we had been on for 1/2 hr to the back of a crazy long line. Which made me cranky. 2 we paid $50 for prime seats only to have people who paid a lot less sit next to and in front of us, which made me wonder what exactly we were paying the extra money for. =crankier 3 The show didn't start until after 8pm which meant we would have had to leave early in order to get the VIP seating for the nerdist podcast that we also paid extra for (I broke out the big bucks this year). So, we got our money back and headed down to the Gramercy. We've seen Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes before, hadn't seen the Nerdist boys, so, we made a choice. It sucks that we had to choose but that's life. And the awesomeness of the Nerdist et al. assuaged my nerd fury.

So, NYCC 2012? I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I'll just go to World Science Fest instead.

On a less ambivavlent note I'm listening to Jonathan Coulton's new album Artificial Heart right now. It's being beamed to me from the cloud. The future is now, people. It is not just some kind of wonderful (eric stoltz, anyone?) but all kinds of wonderful. You should stop reading and go download it, he's much cooler than I am anyway.
Yay Jeff Lemire!

Sunday, October 9, 2011

It's not real until it's on facebook

I’m thirty, newly single, and I’m in New Hampshire listening to my little brother and his fiancée discus table linens and entrée options with wedding coordinators at a series of country clubs and hotel ballrooms.

A high school football coach is screaming at me from somewhere inside my head. “Are you crying? Are you a little sissy girl? Do you want your mommy? SUCK IT UP! Stop being a baby! PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN!!!” I blink the tears back into my eyes and flip through a brochure of happy brides and over the top bouquets and cocktail hours with too much food. I’m a grown-up. I will not cry over flower arrangements. I won’t. I think I can… I think I can… I think I can…

A week ago my boyfriend and I broke up. I spent that weekend lying on the couch drowning in regret and reality TV. I cried for four days and wrote tragic journal entries that need to be burned. I wanted to stand on his front lawn with a boom box over my head. I wanted to crawl into his bed and pretend like none of this had ever happened, to feel him wrapped around me again and know that everything was going to be okay. We broke up for all sorts of sensible reasons but none of that seemed to matter anymore. I hurt and I wanted it to stop. This was my first real relationship and thus, my first real break-up. Which is kind of like getting chicken pox for the first time as an adult; it could kill you.

There were lots of emo texts and phone calls at 2 am and my friends all assure me that it gets better. (Though, they could have just been saying that because they wanted to go back to sleep.) It has gotten somewhat better. I’ve moved on from the sharp, stabbing, I can’t breathe or feel anything but pain phase to the dull aching almost numb, I’m never going to love anyone again phase that comes with a free order of eating your emotions in the form of food that makes you feel a little better for a little bit before making you feel so much worse for so much longer.

Before I can put the cookie dough away and move on with my life I have to update my relationship status on facebook. I’ve been hiding behind it so I don’t have to talk about the break-up, and so I can swim around in denial a little longer; it’s not real until it’s on facebook. I may not have a boyfriend anymore but I can sign into facebook and see “Michelle is in a relationship with…” Even if it’s not true it’s a lie I’m not quite ready to stop telling.

I’m quite looking forward to the next phase, where I try to loose all the weight I’ve gained while eating my emotions, and I take up a new hobby. Maybe needlepoint. Or finally cooking up some of the recipes in that Low-fat Vegan cookbook I haven’t opened. Or… who’s up for badminton? But to get there I have to let go. We may have broken-up but there is a difference between breaking-up and letting go. And I will; I’ll get there. I’ll let facebook know that I’m single and I’ll change my phone’s wallpaper from that picture of us in Boston to a picture of my cat.

But first I’m going to go get some cookies.