queenofzan: (Default)
It really makes me angry when people in or outside of the Supernatural fandom say that the Winchesters are noble and heroic and shit. I mean, yeah, sure, they are, but they are also profoundly fucked up. One of my favorite parts of the show is that they've never backed down from showing how completely screwed in the head you'd have to be in order to live the life that they do and make the choices they've made. And I feel like this is pretty explicit in the show--John talks about how he screwed up Dean's childhood and made him grow up too fast, Dean blames his father for sacrificing his life for Dean's, but then sacrifices his life for Sam's anyway, and even as the brothers have more and more troubles with the angels and the apocalypse and fight, they grow even more codependent.

The show doesn't glamorize this. They're shown committing fraud, stealing things, dealing with their problems in unhealthy ways because they figure, hey, they're going to die anyway--this is all stuff the show routinely puts on the screen. And yet there are apparently segments of viewers that somehow manage to see them as positive role models (?), that the destructive cycle of self-sacrifice and self-denial is a good thing (??), and that the choices they make are the choices any good, wholesome people would make in their situation (???).

Okay, seriously. They started the fucking apocalypse. They've both done terrible things for any number of reasons. They've both given up the life they want in order to protect people who couldn't give a shit, and it's had predictable results on their worldviews. I really don't see how anyone could see this show as inspiring. This show is more depressing than Angel, and that is saying something. At this point, I'm honestly expecting the season to end with Lucifer winning and the end of the world. I mean, it always gets worse, and at this point, that's the only way it could.

Seriously, this show is not full of good role-models and healthy decisions. People need to stop acting like it is.

(Disclaimer: this is like my favorite show on tv right now. Probably says something about me. But anyway, I don't mean this stuff in a bad way. I don't know if I'd like it at all if things didn't suck and the characters didn't make the worst decisions in the history of decisions.)
queenofzan: (Default)
So today, I went to test an outfit for tomorrow and put on a cute pleated skirt I rarely find occasion to wear, because it was small when I bought it and it's not worth the discomfort most days. I discovered it no longer fit even as well as it did the last time I wore it (several months ago), which means I must have gained a little weight or relocated it to my waist or whatever. I don't really care about this, because I'm still in a healthy range and I'm still attractive and everything, it just means that skirt (and probably a few others) don't fit and now I have to be rethink how I arrange my outfits (because I was not in fact imagining that my hips have gotten wider and that means the balance of half the things I wear is all off now).

ANYWAY I mentioned this (because I was a little disappointed about the skirt) to my roommate and a friend from down the hall, and the immediate reaction was "You should eat better!" and "Oh, you should work out with us in the morning!"

Um. I gained a few pounds, girls. Maybe a total of an inch around my waist, a little more than that on my hips and thighs. It's not a big deal.

If you're going to pretend you're concerned about my health, don't wait until I complain about not fitting into one item of clothing that I knew was too small when I bought it. Seriously, what the hell.

(In other news: body image! I'm more concerned about drinking less soda and remembering to brush my teeth than I am about having a flat stomach. Seriously now.) (I bet those girls would freak out to know I do not shave anything but my pits.)
queenofzan: (Default)
I had a funny experience the other day. A cute girl who apparently lives on the third floor of my building invited me to a Bible study and said I and my roommate were welcome. I told her no thanks, and when she asked why, I told her Julie was Jewish and I wasn't really religious. She accepted that Julie was probably not interesting but told me it wasn't denominational or exclusive or anything, and it was totally cool if I believed in evolution or whatever I believed in (at this point she apologized for making assumptions because she had just met me but she wanted to make sure I knew I was welcome no matter what) and she'd leave me her card and number just in case. That was about two weeks ago. Thursday, she invited me to another Bible study session. She told me it was okay, I wouldn't be the only atheist there.

Somehow, my statement that I was not really religious turned me, in her mind, into an atheist.

I have to admit, I did lie to her. I told her I'm not really religious, which is only true in a technical sense. I spend a lot of time thinking about religion and my beliefs, and I believe in many things which are outside the realm of science and therefore supernatural. I honor enough irrational superstitions, I feel, to be termed religious.

Of course, I don't follow any larger organized religion--or even a smaller one. The closest thing I have to a "real" religion is Discordianism, which is really what I tell people so they stop trying to talk to me about religion. Honestly, saying "I'm not really religious" is intended to serve the same purpose: to get people to not ask me about religion.

The reason for this is very simple. I don't like talking about my religion or beliefs. I consider them to be the most personal things about me. I would feel less uncomfortable if someone wanted to discuss my bowel movements or genitalia. I literally cannot comprehend why people think it is more acceptable to ask me about the beliefs that form the foundation of my worldview and sense of self than it is to ask about bodily processes. I do not understand why it.

Because to me, questions of religion necessarily tie into questions about my entire outlook on life and sense of self. I don't feel like these things can be untangled from one another. Who I am informs how I view the world around me, which forms the basis of my beliefs, which influence my sense of self, and so on. Talking about any aspect of that, particularly to strangers or acquaintances who seem to think "What religion are you?" is appropriate small talk, makes me intensely uncomfortable.

But just because I dodge the question or bullshit an answer to get people to stop asking me doesn't mean I'm an atheist. Sure, I believe in evolution (and gravity, a heliocentric solar system, global warming, and the laws of physics), but neither I nor many others have a problem believing in both science and a higher power. Yes, I support gay marriage, freedom of choice, and equality for literally everyone, but that in no way makes me an atheist. I believe in chaos and Eris and free will and fate and that everything balances out in the end, and as far as I have been able to find, I don't match up with any religious organization out there. I don't see how that makes me an atheist or is anyone's business but mine.

And that is my problem, I think. I don't care what religion someone is. As long as it doesn't involve murdering dudes*, I do not care. And I don't understand why someone would care about mine, or why they would think my desire not to talk about it makes me an atheist.

*"murdering dudes" here refers to any behavior which impinges on another's rights

Also, yes, I have run up against all those assumptions, and I find I have an issue with this often enough for it to really freaking bother me. I don't have anything against atheism, but it bothers me that people so frequently assume you're either a Christian, a Jew, or a terrorist (because EVERYONE knows all Muslims are terrorists) because those are the ONLY RELIGIONS, and if you are not one of those, you are an atheist. Um. No.

In sum: leave me the hell alone and stop assuming you know everything about people. Oh my god. S.
queenofzan: (Dude.)
You know what I don't like, is when people look at me like I'm a terrible horrible person for wanting to be a mother and raise my children like, myself. As though it is so wrong for someone to actively want kids, and want to care for them themselves. It's not like I can't work from home, you guys. I make up stories. THIS IS A HELPFUL THING IN CHILD-REARING KIDS LIKE STORIES they also like pulling my hair and being adorable. I mean, guys, it's not like I plan on going out and getting knocked up right this second and dropping out of school to pop em out. That's really not my plan at all. The plan is pretty nebulous: one day, when older, have children. Raise them. Why does this make me a bad person? Why can't this be one of my goals in life? Why do people give me that look?

Also being behind on my wordcount. That's not cool, guys. *goes to write before bed*
queenofzan: (Default)
First of all, this was the best April Fools' Day ever. I didn't get a chance to pull any jokes, but there were chances! And I witnessed some amazing ones.

But mostly, my day is summed up by this text I sent some boy in Wisconsin (if you are reading this, I love you):

argh one day i will live in a house where all the animals use the bathroom outside and i have to clean up far less feces everyday.

...yeeeeah.

Boring writing stuff that I really just need to write down somewhere and which I'm sure no one else wants to know (unless maybe they were stalking me but I don't think anyone is right now so yes!) )

YES THAT ENTIRE THING WAS JUST AN EXCUSE FOR THAT LAST SENTENCE. SO WHAT.
queenofzan: (Default)
I have been ridiculously busy. I should not be busy. But I am. 'Tis very strange.

Also! I have finished typing up Chapter One of Silver Chain, which is what I started for NaNoWriMo last year, also known as the only thing I've thought about for longer than a week for...damn, I think it's three years now. I NEED TO FINISH THIS BOOK. I am on Chapter Twenty-Three right now, about 300 pages in (I have no idea how many words, other than more than 80k), but there were requests to read (and hopefully edit) the first parts without having to struggle through last year's rushed NaNo handwriting. So I typed it up and printed it out; this also makes it easier for me to edit.

And now for the long, rambling talk on my life! Feel free to skip. Not really important, anyway. Unless you care about KOL Con, so I will talk about that first. )

Okay, tired and empty of rants now. To bed. After a glass of water.

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