Archive for September, 2013

Giving Up

This is the story of how I decided to lay down and give up on almost everything. Although that actually sounds more depressing than it is. Possibly even more depressing than my last entry, which I’m sure you noticed was pretty effing depressing.

It’s just that every day, I look at the great big list of things I want to accomplish by the year’s end, and instead of feeling motivated I just want to climb under the covers and sleep for another few hours. It doesn’t help that it feels like I have no time anymore. I’ve woken up at or around noon for the last several days. I stay up until two and three in the morning, and all I’ve really done in the last week is power through a few books and write maybe a thousand words on a random short story.

So what do I do with the rest of my time? I play Animal Crossing, though not nearly as avidly as I did a couple of weeks ago. I play this ridiculously addicting piano game on my phone. I fiddle around on the internet. A lot of the time, though, I just sit there and I think about what I should be doing.

I should watch Doctor Who so I can start writing reviews again.

I should watch a movie. I should watch a Disney movie, an old movie, a favorite movie, any movie, it’s only a couple of hours, for god’s sake, it isn’t that hard.

I should make today’s cranes.

I should work on a puzzle.

I should write a blog post about something. About Hannibal, about writing, about my recent obsession with America’s baby pandas, about something.

I should turn on the Wii and exercise, just for the sake of getting up and moving.

I should write. I should work on that TRON fanfic, or that Doctor Who fanfic. I should work on Luna, or maybe another story entirely. I should work on Lena’s story, or Tate’s story, or Andira’s or Maggie’s or Rose’s or Mackenzie’s or Nora’s or anyone’s.

I thin all of these things at the same time, and I manage to find excuses for almost all of them. Sometimes it’s an issue of time (if I watch a movie now, I can’t write or read or anything during it!), or just not feeling inspired. Which is the lamest of excuses for not writing, and often makes me feel like I don’t have the “it” or “ness” you need to really Be A Writer.

I don’t know how to do everything I want to do with my time and my life. I do the lazy things because it’s easier, because they don’t involve getting up and working. It’s so much easier to do nothing, and it’s easier than it’s ever been, because the only consequence is me not doing what I wanted to do. No one else cares. And yeah, it’s possible that not doing what I really want is a major contributing factor to my general melancholy. And you’d think that, knowing that, it would make it easier for me to start doing those very things, in the interests of securing my own happiness.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it makes it harder, which makes it even easier to stay in bed and play video games and refresh Tumblr.

I don’t want to be responsible for my own happiness. That’s a daunting enough task on its own, and it’s terrifying if you’re me.

And maybe it makes me a piece of shit for doing the easy, lazy thing, but I’m not sure that I really give a damn.



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(this has been a post)

It was easier to understand when I thought it was just PMS. But here I am, right in the thick of it, my hormones mostly settled down, and I’m /still/ miserable and depressed and unmotivated. I take one look at my actually rather short to-do list, and I go ahead and literally sleep on it for four hours. I feel like so much of a failure I want to cry. And all this in spite of the expensive meds, the biweekly therapy, and the generally true idea that this is better than it was, say, a year and a half ago.

There comes a point in a girl’s life when she starts to think the problem with it all is her.

That’s the general impression I’ve gotten, anyway. Just the general gist of everything from everyone I’ve dared talk to about it. Everyone else is working so hard. I have to start working hard. Therefore, if I’m still miserable, it’s my fault for not working hard enough to not be miserable.

I realize this is probably the depression talking, but this isn’t some illogical stupid thing, because as far as I can tell, it’s true. Instead of doing things, instead I play video games and screw around on the internet. Instead of getting off my ass and maybe getting out of the house, I stay inside and do the aforementioned nonsense crap. Instead of doing easy, simple things like writing up blog posts, or watching movies, or writing, I just faff around, because it’s easy and it doesn’t challenge me and no one gives a damn one way or another, right?

It’s my fault I’m stuck. It’s my fault I’m miserable. If I tried harder, things would be better, but I’m not trying at all.

Maybe I’m wrong. But right now it’s the only thing that makes any sense. And I hate myself for it.


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After surviving a bike accident that should have killed her with nothing but a sprained wrist and some bruises, Mira Park discovers she has immense sorcerous power. Not long after, she finds out that a powerful demon wants to take her power for himself. Mira rebuffs his offers to go to him willingly, but when his cronies attack her and kidnap her best friend, she’s forced to work with her half-demon lab partner in order to rescue her and defeat the demon once and for all. (more…)

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To be perfectly honest, “Victory of the Daleks” is probably my least favorite episode of Series 5. Its purpose and function is transparent from the very first–from the appearance of the title onscreen. This episode brings back the Daleks from the total destruction rained down on them in “Journey’s End.” While I suppose it also serves a function in the grander scheme of things (Amy’s not remembering the events of “End” and how that relates to the Cracks), there isn’t much else that makes this episode exciting or memorable.

Well. Maybe that’s not completely true. This is the first time we get to see Matt Smith’s Doctor on a real rampage, full to the brim with righteous anger and then pushed to pained sorrow when he must choose, once again, between saving the Earth or defeating the Daleks. Smith puts in a marvelous performance from the moment the Daleks appear onscreen, and his rampage against them in Bracewell’s lab is terrifying to watch because it’s so raw and believable. Over and over, Smith has been more than proving his mettle in the role of the Doctor, and it’s always a delight to see him in action.

On the companion side of things, it’s interesting to see the other end of Amy Pond’s desire to run away from home, not only for the adventure type stuff but also because of the Doctor himself. Her “ever fancied someone you know you shouldn’t?” comment to Bracewell in the epsiode’s climax says a great deal about her possible feelings towards the Doctor and the idea that she might have run away from her wedding to be with him. This gets addressed more fully in the next story, so I’ll leave it lie for the moment, but there is another strangely touching moment from Amy that I want to talk about. It’s when she talks Bracewell out of killing himself, saying that she understands. It’s such a small moment, a tiny piece of dialogue, but I feel like it says so much about her character. To me it says that she has had experience with suicide, or at least with suicidal thoughts. It throws those psychiatrists she mentioned in an entirely new light. It gives her character a sudden depth, a glimmer of a life that might have been, for quite some time, very unhappy. It comes off like such a minor detail, but it still seems like such a big moment for her character, and I love it dearly.

And then there’s the other thing about Amy: she doesn’t remember the Daleks. Or, indeed, anything about the events of “Journey’s End.” I can only imagine what sorts of questions this raised when this episode first aired, since previous stories haven’t been so lightly tossed aside before. However, knowing as we do that this is an effect of the cracks in time seen in “The Eleventh Hour” and popping up all over the place, I think I will take time to comment. I like this detail. I like that Steven Moffat has chosen to more or less put Earth back on square one as far as alien invasions go. It means that there isn’t a laundry list of events to keep in the back of one’s mind when there are stories set in the present day. (“Turn Left” was a great example of just how much ridiculous crap has happened on present-day Earth.) It means that any new companions won’t have any experience with aliens and the like, which I think makes for a more interesting introduction in that we get to see how they handle it when weird crap does happen.

And on a much more personal note, it means I can pretend that episodes like “Journey’s End” and “The Next Doctor” and the like never happened. Or rather, as Moffat’s cunning in-story plot hole dictates, they happened, but no one remembers them. (If only I were that lucky…)

As for the Daleks: the one thing I can appreciate about this episode is that it brings them back. Rather than ending them once and for all (or mostly for all) like RTD did a grand total of five times, it brings them back. It has them /win/. And then they go away to just be Daleks, and to turn up in another story at their leisure. It recognizes, in a way that RTD seemed to keep missing, that if the Daleks are the Doctor’s greatest enemy, then they need to be around for that. Killing them off has a nice dramatic punch, but it does leave one in a bit of a pinch when you want to bring them back again.

In that regard, “Victory of the Daleks” succeeds marvelously, and I can appreciate it for that even though the plot is to my eyes a bit lacking and spare. The great performance from Matt Smith by and large pushes this episode up a bit in my eyes, but not enough that I’d be able to count it a favorite.


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It’s never a good day when I wake up late. Which is actually a lie, because today has been more or less an “everything went better than expected” kind of day. Though in some ways it isn’t, because my body has started its monthly tantrum, so I feel blah all over and I want something sweet to eat and there isn’t anything like that in the house because of course not. These are things you probably didn’t need to know about, but I’m talking about them anyway, because this is my blog and I do what I like, so there.

I am normally a lot more eloquent than this. I apologize for that; I know you all expect better of me. There comes a time, however, when one isn’t interested in eloquence, because one would much rather be ranting about Mother Nature’s poor timing, or the lack of sweets in the house, or even one’s own laziness about getting up and turning on the ceiling fan. I talk about these things even though I know you don’t care, because I do hope that if I act odd enough you’ll find it endearing and like me. Something of that nature anyway.

I am thinking about starting a new weekly series of blog posts. I have had a list of some of my miscellaneous stories sitting around for a while, and I typed it up today with more detailed summaries of the stories and suchlike. I thought it might be interesting to post these summaries and discuss the story ideas themselves to a wider audience, though on second thought I don’t know how much of a copyright problem that would be if I ever actually finished something and got it published. Perhaps I should ask some of my writer friends about that.

As far as my whole “turn my life around with the magic of hashtags” thing is going, it more or less isn’t. I /still/ have not watched any movies. The reading thing is going well enough but I’m not posting about it. Ditto the blogging, though without the not posting about it (though I am linking on Twitter again). I’ve fallen behind on cranes, not even started on puzzles, and don’t even ask about properly writing. (In protest, the past few days I have written a short story, half a Doctor Who fic, and the start of another short story.)

I’m hot. I should turn on the overhead fan. I’m hungry. I should just go make some Pop Tarts, never mind that it’s 11pm. I need to finish reading City of Bones so I don’t have to read any of those other books, though I might check out the steampunk ones if it means getting away from the more annoying characters and into the really interesting world. And I can make cranes while I watch a familiar movie. Or something. Why is life so hard, and why is there never any time to do anything. It’s ridiculous. I hate it.


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Sometimes I wish I could make my daily life a bit more interesting. At the moment, it’s really not, to be honest. I’m still unemployed. I spend the vast majority of my time alone, because everyone else I know (i.e., my immediate family) has to work or go to school or both. I try to do things, but most of the time I end up poking around the internet in a dull loop and playing video games (i.e., Animal Crossing) for hours on end. Sometimes, to shake things up, I go to the library to work for a few hours.

I am not a very interesting person, and I do not lead a very interesting life. To be honest, I’m surprised that people are interested in hearing about my daily life (I assume so anyway, since those posts garner views the day of if nothing else). My Doctor Who posts do me far better, and if I was more eloquent and opinionated, I could probably just turn this into a blog just about Doctor Who, or a film and television blog. That would probably get me views and traffic and all that shiny stuff, not that this blog actually makes me any money.

But I keep talking about my uninteresting life anyway. I suppose I’m just a little selfish and self-involved. I don’t have much else to talk about anyway, and when I do, I usually downplay it as not being that interesting after all. These are problems about myself that I am trying to work through in therapy, not that I’m sure that’s going all that well, either.

It also doesn’t help that a lot of what I do is kind of boring. I watch films and things. I write stories. These are not the stuff of riveting blog posts, let’s be honest here. Most of what I watch I don’t end up reviewing anyway, and most of what I write I can’t post because I’m hoping to get it published one day. So the things I do stay under wraps and unseen, and I’m left sitting here with very little to talk about.

This kind of plagues me out in the real world of real life, too. I swear I have come from a family of inveterate chatters, and it’s always awkward at family gatherings to sit there and not talk and feel left out for not talking. This is followed by feeling bad because I feel left out, and then feeling bad because I feel bad, because if I would just open my mouth and say something everything would be better, and it’s basically another iteration of the sneaky hate spiral that ruins my everyday life. I want to be more interesting, I want to do things and pick up stories to tell in the car or at those family dinners in California. And yet then again, I’m horrible at telling stories out loud, so maybe everyone’s just better off if I keep my mouth shut.

I have no idea what the point of this post is, except maybe to be something to put on my blog while I keep putting off watching “Victory of the Daleks.”


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The End is Nigh

Alternate title: Hashtags a day.

So we’re officially two-thirds of the way through the year. At least if you’re counting on the artibrary scale of the number of months that have passed by, as opposed to the number of days or weeks or what have you. There are but four months remaining before 2013 becomes 2014 and I have to learn how to write a new number on the end of my dates all over again.

It also means I’ve got four months to get all my resolutions somewhat sorted and everything. Though to be honest, most of what I’m going to blather about here are more along the lines of goals rather than actual resolutions, most of which, let’s face it, I kind of screwed up a very long time ago. (Oh, exercising. Will you ever actually become part of my daily routine?)

But I do have various goals in place that I would like to get through over the course of the next 122 days (counting today, which is itself very nearly over). And now I’m just going to list them out and include the average rate per day/week that I need to keep up with in order to meet with my goals. Though I did these calculations on Wednesday, so they’re technically a 125-day/17-week-total rate Or something. If that makes any sense.


840 cranes to fold* = 6.7/day –> 8 cranes/day
110 films to watch = 6.5/week –> 1 film/day
34 videos to make** = 1.9/week –> 2 videos/week
80 blog posts to write = 5 posts/week
125 journal entries to write = 1 entry/day
3 puzzles to put together (3000 pieces total) = 24 pieces/day
26 books to read = 1.5 books/week
1 novel to write = November
2 fanfics to finish = AAAHHH FUCK

The writing goals are sadly a bit less concrete. …I’ll figure something out. (Currently toying with a 2,000 words a day limit, which will be a nice warm-up for November and NaNoWriMo.)

Anyway, the whole “hashtags a day” thing: something I started doing the other day on my Instagram (and through that, my Tumblr and Twitter) was posting pictures of my daily cranes with the hashtag “#8cranesaday”, just to sort of keep myself on my toes and maybe even make myself slightly accountable to the people who follow me on those forums. Continuing in that vein, I think it would be interesting and cool if I just did that for everything on the above list.

So keep a weather eye out, I suppose.
*Total based on number of cranes I thought I would have to make per month back in January, and did not take into account any previously folded cranes. Furthermore, the high jump in the rounding up will mean that I will hit 1,000 cranes well before the end of the year.

**Number of videos was reduced from 104 to 38 back in April. I have made/posted four new videos to my YouTube channel this year so far.


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