And then some.
All things considered, I think I’ve had a pretty good mental health weekend. Sure, I’m still as self-pitying as ever and the hole in my brain weeping at my indifference, but I must keep in mind that problems like mine aren’t so easily resolved, especially not via things masquerading under the trusted ‘Mental Health’ stamp.
Ever since I read Will Grayson, Will Grayson and Will Grayson Small Letters talks about how stupid and inconsiderate ‘mental health days’ are to people who actually have mental health problems, I’ve tried to avoid the term. Still, I can’t find a catchy enough substitute, so for now, we’re sticking with this.
Basically, I did absolutely nothing. Not next to nothing. Not almost nothing. Abso-friggin-lutively nothing. And it felt great. The rain helped.
And of course, as we all know, I found something new to obsess over and even a friend who shares my sentiments for Jake the puppy. Hence, Jake in caps lock.
I finished watching the first season of Awkward. last night and there was this surprising overflow of feelings for a show that I originally watched just to kill time. That was how I watched the first season of Skins, too, and look where that got me.
Rundown of feelings:
Jake, you are a puppy and I want you to be happy and you can only be happy if Jenna loves you for realz.
Jenna, love Jake for realz. You’re really cool other than the fact that you let yourself be led on by Matty.
Matty, I really don’t like your name and your level of douchebaggery. ‘No one can know that I like you’ after having sex with a girl? Not cool, bro.
Tamara, you should really make up your mind about Ricky Schwartz.
Ming, your hair is super cool.
Sadie, I wish you got slapped instead of drenched.
Cheerleader with the eyes, um, hi, you still have nice eyes.
Treating TV characters as though they could read your judgmental messages is the number one symptom of being way too emotionally invested.
Some other notable points of note:
One. I’m pretty sure the way I feel for Jake is pretty close to the way people feel about Peeta, only I really don’t want to compare Jenna with Katniss and Matty with Gale, because ugh, the feelings are the only way THG and Awkward are alike. Also, I guess, in the tropes concerning Jake and Peeta, but I don’t know, I found Jake to be endearing right off the bat and it took, well, a movie to get me to like Peeta.
Two. As you might know, I’ve been on a gay/douchebag/gay douchebag streak by way of crushes ever since I started college. Does this mark the end of my love for douchebags? Is the era of the cute neglected guy finally entering its Golden Age? Or is Matty just that bad? I’m talking with aforementioned friend about it and I don’t think I’m the only one who thinks he’s not very likable. I mean, pit-sniffing? Really? How is that attractive, Jenna, tell me?
Three. And finally, hipsterisms. Considering that the show—much like every other record-breaking teen dramedy—is about the stigma that society puts on us, should I even be concerned about whether Awkward. jives with my projected interests? I mean, I just used the word ‘jive’ after all.*
Like psychological issues and the mental health weekend, social stigmas cannot be solved as easily as watching a six-hour season of a show. But they’re helping. At least I’m thinking twice now? Which is a step from just assuming that I suck and everyone will make fun of me for liking non-nerdy, non-literary things and being basically without identity in the world of Philippine genre fiction.
On that note, we’re heading into ‘And then some’ territory. Yes, this post has a part two, but it’ll be quick, as I’m sleepy, I want to watch Awkward S02, and our printer just died so I have to copy my research by hand.
We have a report for Children’s Lit this Wednesday*** on the current trends in Children’s Literature and ‘the multimedia experience’. Pretty cool report topic, honestly. I got to look through articles about the boom in supernatural/fantasy novels, the Harry Potter phenomenon, and all that.
One problem though: There is no such thing as Philippine YA literature.
Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but let’s say you ask a random teenager on the street.
Okay, maybe not on the street. in a school. Public or private, doesn’t matter. Ask him/her about the most recent YA book they’ve read.
Okay, he/she will probably reply ‘sorry, I don’t like to read.’ Find another one and then ask the question.
Okay? Okay. I’m willing to bet my hair that that book isn’t by a local author. (Barring Bob Ong, because he’s in a whole league of his own.) In fact, I’m willing to bet that book isn’t even appropriate for teenagers, but that’s another issue.
So I stumbled around the internet until I found this: RocketKapre.com. As usual, I have thoughts.
Holy schmiz, this is now my favorite website in the entire worlddddd. And homg, Philippine Speculative Fiction? This is super cool. And wait, I have that other thing for my other class where I have to find a short story by a local writer and write a paper on it. Jackpot! Should I crash the book launch? But I’ve got no one to crash with, and even if I did, we’d be children in a room of suffocatingly amazing writers.
Wait, suffocatingly amazing? Is this my future? Is this where what I refer to as my quirky fiction is supposed to reside? Do I have a culture? Do I belong?
Wait. No. These people are comic people. They’re educated. They’re geeky and nerdy and I’m not geeky and nerdy enough. Hell, I can’t even write my mixed media comic thing. Why am I even doing that if I know nothing about it? Am I doomed to fail? Will I have no future? I already have no future, dammit!
(Insert series of mental panic attacks.)
And somewhere in all of that: That Kwentillion thing. My (hopefully not gay/not a douchebag) crush was going to go there. Hmm.
Then I mentally blacked out.
When I resumed normal oxygen intake, I noticed that one of the author’s names looked familiar. Flashback time a la Wolverine.****
When I was in high school I think, I saw an article in the paper written by this girl who chose to pursue Creative Writing. I think I still have it buried under a pile of paper and used pens in one of my drawers. The article was basically a response to the people who kept asking her why she did it. Can’t really remember what she actually said, but I remember it was amazingly written.
Oh, and that epic Oscar Wilde quote. “Beauty is its own excuse for being.” My thirteen-year-old heart soared.
Looking back, she probably just said something like “I write because I want to,” but that’s the thing with writing. You don’t really need a deep realization or an original epiphany, because by virtue of our being human, we’ve all heard that crap before. It’s all in the delivery.
And because the delivery was that amazing, I actually wrote to her. I emailed her and told her of my plight. And she wrote back and she was nice and I didn’t know what to say because I was so stricken at her awesomeness. To this day I regret not replying.
Back in the present, she’s writing speculative fiction and I’m a Creative Writing student. It doesn’t seem like much, but it feels like much. It may well be the natural progression of the human life cycle, but we could’ve chosen to do different things. I could’ve stayed in Math. She could’ve stopped writing. But neither of us did.
Indulge me, I’ve always wanted to say this: Look how far we’ve come.
I may not be writing speculative fiction and I still have no idea how I+RR is going to work out, but at the end of the day, I am amazed that I find the time to sit on this bed, not fall asleep, and blog.
I have you, IC. It hasn’t been a long time, but it’s been cool, hasn’t it? I’m a blog-abandoner. I made it clear that you’re Blog Attempt #8, but right now, in the world of writing, you’re all I have. And I’m pretty damn happy with that.
We’re on our way. This is a step. Invisigirl is getting there.
*Not to mention my overuse of the word ‘legit’.**
**Dammit, I was trying to get through this post without making a footnote.
***I feel like this is the only class I blog about.
****I completely forgot about the SONA today because there was an X-Men marathon on TV. You can really see the evolution of the special effects industry from those movies.
*****Bonus (downer) material! In the interest of full disclosure (because after all, we are in a relationship): I cried today, while watching Jason Mraz’s concert on TV. I don’t know if this is relevant but I go through a lot of emotional shit that I don’t get to talk about a lot here on IC. And I want to talk about it because I want to be honest. So no, everything’s not been as great as I make it seem, but that’s just because I like blogging and it feels like I’m organizing the mess every time I blog. So yeah, while I’m blogging, things are better, but I just want you to know that they’re not like this all the time. I’m not always so perky about writing and facing the future. In fact, I usually feel like shit about it. I just want to be honest.
Hello! I really hope you get to read this. (I would have left a message on your ask box but meh, word limit.) Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, but certain Powers-That-Be have led me to this place to let you know: YOU ARE WELCOME.
You are more than perfectly welcome to pop by the PSF7 book launch and hang around with other people and to meet the authors and editors and friends. In fact, we’d love it if you can come. There’s no restrictions on whether or not you’ve been published before, or how “geeky” you are - you will be welcomed with open arms. Plus, up-and-coming writers are pretty awesome too: you have so many possibilities right in front of you! And with the advent of technology and multimedia and various narrative styles and forms at your disposal, I’m sure that you’ll find a way to tell your story.
Because isn’t that what’s at the core of writing? It’s not about being cool or getting a badge saying I’m A Geek. And it’s not about the money either (good God, it’s never been about the money). Nor is it about the fame (good grief, we’d be lucky if we even get fifteen minutes). Rather, isn’t it all about finding a good story and taking the time out to measure it out, length by length, to use warp and weft and frame to weave together words like strands of thread and to create worlds. And to share these worlds with other like-minded people, to see the awesomeness about these universes that do not have any edges.
So come on over. Don’t be awkward. We’d love to see you there.