Category: Movies

My General Is One with the Force

#bipolar, #dreams, #nerd, #TV, anxiety, Celebrity, Depression, Diversity, Fandom, Geek, Health, Mental Health, Movies, Sci-fi, Social Media, Stress, Television, Thoughts

In an unfortunate turn of events, my original blog post about Carrie Fisher’s death three years ago never migrated to this site when I bought this domain.

(You can read my original short tribute here. It’s a search link, but it’s there.)

Today, I saw her last performance as Leia Organa. I cried. Not loud, ugly crying, but I cried. Several times. I mean, I don’t cry at movies generally, but when I saw the name “General Leia Organa” on the screen, I teared up. Hell, when I saw the Star Wars scroll come on the screen, I teared up. I teared up when I thought of young Carrie. When I thought of flipping-people-off Carrie. When I saw Rey training with Leia. And the end–oh, my GODS, I cried. I left the theater sniffling.

The movie was amazing. Better than the eighth, possibly my new favorite of the Skywalker saga. But this post isn’t about the movie.

This post is about Carrie. About the impact her life–and death–had on me.

Since my original post is hidden on the interwebs, I’m going to write a new one. I get to do that, because this is my blog after all.

I never met Carrie. Never talked with her in any capacity, not even online. I have no connection to her in any way… Except for the bipolar disorder. That’s a thing we shared, and it’s a thing she was vocal about.

I want to be like that. I want to become a person who others see and say, “Hey, that chick is pretty cool. Oh hey, she has bipolar disorder. That’s cool.” I want people to see it as a part of me, but not all of me. I don’t want to hide it, and I want to be a part of making a world where no one has to hide it.

I’m not a huge celebrity like Carrie was. Is. She’s still with us in spirit, looking down on us all and giving us a big smile and bigger middle finger.

But she wasn’t always a big celebrity. She started out small, too, so there’s hope. Hope for everyone who wants to make it big, and hope for everyone who wants to make a difference. Maybe some day, someone who has read my writing, who hasn’t ever met me, will see a report about my death, and they’ll be sad. Maybe they’ll write their own blog post about the influence I had.

Not any time soon, mind you; I got shit to do. I’ve gotta write more books. Gotta spread the word about the things that affect me and many more like me. Gotta get out there, get known, and get busy. But maybe some day, when I become one with the Force, some stranger, some fan out there, will be affected. And maybe they’ll continue where I left off.

I’ve never shied away from talking about bipolar disorder and how it affects me, but now I’m going to make more of an effort to be vocal about it. I mean, I’m not going to get preachy or anything, but I’m going to be more … me.

Carrie Fisher wasn’t a friend of mine. She wasn’t anyone I’ve ever known. But she was a presence. She made an impact.

I want to make an impact.

I want to be a Force.

Every cloud

#bipolar, Depression, embroidery, Health, Mental Health, Movies, Sewing, Stress, Thoughts, Time

This weekend has been nice. Low-key, home alone, and best of all: not sick as fuck.

I made myself retrospect a little too much, though. I was cruising Netflix, looking for something to watch, when I found a good movie. Silver Linings Playbook. Excellent flick, great acting….and maybe a little too real.

Being bipolar, I feel this movie on a visceral level. No, I’m not quite like Pat. Or Tiffany. Not really. I’ve never been hospitalized for my emotional state, never been that far off. But yeah, I’ve missed work over my mental state before. I’ve obsessed over failed relationships, I’ve written nutball letters/texts/emails to my exes, I’ve been the “backup.” I’ve slept around because my depression had me down, or because my mania had me horny. I’ve quit taking my meds more than once. So maybe I’m bits of Pat and Tiffany. I’m Piffany.

I’ve been doing okay for a while now. Well, mostly okay. I mean, I get depressed sometimes. I get manic. I’ve been on an embroidery kick this weekend, and I’m pretty sure it’s not completely deadline-induced. I’m probably manic. I mean, I’m tearing through these embroidery projects, stopping briefly to eat or go to the bathroom or take a catnap. But mainly I’ve been embroidering. To the point of dry skin and calluses on my fingertips.

The whole Pat thing happened to my brother a few years ago. Not the beating-a-man-almost-to-death thing, but the bad ending to a bad relationship that ultimately resulted in him being committed. I won’t go into it too much here, because it’s his story not mine, but it was scary to watch.

It was even scarier knowing that our great-grandfather died of psychosis. “Exhaustion in the progression of psychosis”–that was the CoD on his death certificate. He was so fucking crazy it killed him.

Since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder before my brother was, I always assumed that was my eventual fate. Then my brother got diagnosed, and combined with his substance abuse issues he’s way worse off than me. He had his psychotic break in his mid-40s….the same age good ol’ Great-Granddad was when he died.

My brother didn’t die. We’ve got better meds now, better tech, better treatments. But guess what? This year I turn 40. Now, like I said, I’m not as bad off as my brother. So I’m not necessarily on a timeline here. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. Maybe my brother’s incident was the repetition, and I’ll be passed over. Like the Christian thing. I dunno–I’m not the religious type. But maybe I don’t have to dread my mid-40s. Maybe I don’t have to go go go, to push myself so much, to worry about whether or not I’ll make it long enough to do the things I want to get done.

I want to finish my sci-fi series. I want to finish the collaboration I’m working on. I want to learn more about making garb and clothes and embroidery and get good enough at researching it all to become a Laurel. I want to learn more rapier techniques and practice enough to be good at them. And I want to lose this weight I’ve gained. I want so many things, and I think the back of my brain is telling me “You’ve got a few years left. Five, six max. You need to hurry up. You need to get your shit together while you have the mental capacity to do it.”

I gotta get that out of the back of my head. I gotta tell myself that there’s no deadline to insanity, that it’s not written. It’s not predestined. I don’t have to go crazy. I can stay sane, stay mostly stable, stay me.

I also have a secret weapon: my husband. Even if I do go crazy, I have him to keep me alive, to keep me from going so far down the hole that I can’t crawl back up.

That’s it. That’s my silver lining. That’s my ace in the hole.

Five or six years. I pass that, and I win. I beat history.

Cries of “Excelsior!” shall echo through the halls of Valhalla

#nerd, Celebrity, Comic books, Cosplay, Depression, Fandom, Geek, Movies, Musings, Sci-fi, Thoughts

It was finally time.

He gave us ninety-five years, and he gave them selflessly. He created people, places, world’s, universes. And he created a society where geeks and nerds can be who they are. He made nerddom chic.

I know it was coming any day. I know it had to happen. No one lives forever. Not even The Man.

Still, I know my eyes will tear up when that last cameo flashes on the screen. They’re tearing up now, as I think of what the world has lost: a great man, and a creator without equal. He understood what it was to be an outsider, and he gave the outsiders people to relate to when few existed.

I’ve always been more of a Marvel girl that a DC girl. When I was four, I told my mom that I was going to marry Spider-Man. Well, Mary Jane Watson got to him first. 

I don’t really know what to say. What can you say about a man who touched so many lives? From the very small to the brightest stars in the biz, he made everyone fit in. There’s a place for everyone in Marvel.

I never got the chance to meet him. Well, I guess I had the chance, but I never took advantage of it. He was at Phoenix Comicon one year that I was attending, but I couldn’t afford an autograph. I should have stood in line anyway, if nothing else than to shake hands with the man who meant so much to so many. 

I knew it couldn’t last.

I just didn’t believe that it would really happen.

Legends are supposed to live on forever. But I suppose no matter how legendary the person, Death still wins in the end.

A Legend may be dead, but his legend lives on. In the comics he created. In the worlds and universes he created. In the hearts of everyone who was touched by his creations. In the word “excelsior,” a word that means excellence.

You were most excellent, Stan Lee.

Safe travels.

Godly aspirations

#design, #nerd, Celebrity, Comic books, Convention, Cosplay, costuming, Crafting, Fandom, Geek, Movies, Plus size, Sewing

Well, I have my newest cosplay obsession. I went to see Thor: Ragnarok last night and now I’ve decided I have to do a Hela cosplay.
Observe:

Weight issues aside, it’s not too far of a stretch. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I look similar to Cate Blanchett, and let’s face it, Hela is a badass. (Ok, so I might have dozed a bit during the part where Thor kicked her ass… what can I say? It was past my bedtime.) 
It should be an interesting challenge. I’ll have to make a bodysuit, figure out the shoulder cutouts, and figure out all the piping and stuff.
Oh wait. I have two Italian Renaissance outfits to make before Yule. And a synopsis to polish. And revisions out the wazoo. And Christmas presents to make. And work.
Not to mention that we’re not really going to as many conventions lately. Not since this year’s Phoenix Comicontroversy. Still…it shall happen.
Some day.

May the Fourth Be with You

Convention, Corsetry, Cosplay, Fandom, Geek, Holiday, Movies, Sci-fi, Tattoo

Yes, it’s that day again: the day when the nerds come out of the woodwork to proclaim their love for Star Wars.

I’m one of those nerds. I love the movies (well, most of them), and if I wasn’t a bigger Doctor Who fan I would probably have been getting a Jedi Order tattoo yesterday instead of a TARDIS.

I guess I’ll let my Star Wars/Doctor Who mashup cosplay make up for it. I have less than a month to lose enough weight to comfortably squeeze into it, though I can still fit it. I’d just like the corset a little less…tight. Like, really tight. I mean, I know corsets are supposed to be tight, but this one is homemade, not professionally made. So I’m hoping there aren’t any wardrobe malfunctions at Phoenix Comicon.

Anywho, happy Star Wars Day to all, and May the Fourth be with you!

Fanfiction: Devotional or Uninspired?

Fandom, Geek, Movies, Novel, Sci-fi, Thoughts, Writing

Yesterday’s post had to do with the strange phenomenon of “shipping” when it comes to fictional characters and worlds. Today, I follow that up with a post about fanfiction, which is basically fans writing “episodes” of TV shows, movies, comics, etc.

My first question is this: Why fanfiction? Sure, some are just little short stories depicting something the fan wishes had happened on the show/in the comic/whatever. But some are epic, novel-length works about their favorite characters and worlds. It boggles my mind, because if you have enough imagination to write a novel, why not create your own world and characters? Why piggy back off of someone else’s characters? Is it really just to show your devotion to the show? Is it to make real the things you wish the show writers had put in there?

I admit, I’ve only written one novel, but I can say without a doubt that it’s my own novel. I didn’t base any of the characters or situations on something I had seen in someone else’s work. I took a character of my own making and created a cast that revolved around her.

Now, I’m not saying that I’m “better” than a fanfic author. That’s not what I’m saying at all. What I’m trying to say is, if you have that much creativity inside you, why not use it to create your own world? Maybe even write a novel that gets turned into one of your favorite TV shows or into a movie. You could have fanfic written about your original idea. Wouldn’t that be even more awesome? To be the origin of fanfic, not a perpetuator?

I don’t know. I could certainly write fanfic if I wanted to. I’m a terrible worldbuilder, so theoretically if I just snatch up someone else’s world and fiddle around with it it should be easier. Then again, I’m also selfish and narcissistic. I want something that I made. Something that I wrote from my imagination. I want to be able to say, “I did that. I created those characters. I wrote the plot. Me.”

Sure, my plots might not be the most original. How does the saying go? Something about how no idea is truly unique anymore. Every story has already been written, and it’s only a matter of the spin you put on it. In that case, isn’t every story fanfiction? Every vampire story a fanfic of Brahm Stoker’s Dracula? Every tragic love story a fanfic of Romeo and Juliet?

Who knows. What I do know is that fanfiction is yet another area of fandom that I don’t fully understand. Why ship things that don’t exist? Why write from other peoples’ ideas instead of creating your own?

I may never know.