Meme spam

So yeah, not dead yet. I was sick all last week, though not so much so as to feel justified in pulling the full Camille. Still, even your basic lying-around-with-no-energy-feeling-sorry-for-yourself sickness tends to exacerbate my natural tendencies toward being... reactive. High-strung. Occasionally whiny and/or bitchy ("occasionally?!" I hear Little Sister scoff a state away). Since I try to keep that part of my personality offline as much as possible, and rather than starting fights and clobbering innocent people with the Frying Pan of Death over things like differing views of a character, or enthusiasm (or lack thereof) for a particular pairing, I mostly took the week off. And wallowed in badfic. Specifically, Paris/Chakotay badfic. It's not like my brain was working so well anyway, so why not go all out? Deliberately seeking out this sort of thing is not so fun when it's a pairing I actually care about; the pain gets too distracting. But remove that element of, you know, real emotional investment, and it's like any trashy romance novel, only more so. Whee! But then every so often I'd trip over a story that wasn't bad, exactly, and it was quite disorienting. I kept wondering things like "why is no one crying yet?" or "why isn't Chakotay calling on his spirit guide every five minutes?" "Where's Tom's endless litany of tragedies?" "Why isn't Tom saying 'Gods!' constantly?" (and what the hell is up with that anyway?!) "Where's the big wedding scene with lyrics by Diane Warren and Indian customs by Pottery Barn?" It's unsettling to crave a Twinkie and find only madeleines on the plate, though in this case, it didn't happen often. And sure, it seems counterintuitive to complain about good stories, but hey, I was sick and I wanted my fun trashy, darn it! Tragically, I forgot that badfic is more addictive than heroin, and I don't have a stash of mediocre stories to help wean me off. Poor brain, I treat you so cruelly.

Did I have a point when I started? Um... was sick, wanted to start fights, didn't, read schlock instead... huh. Guess not. I did watch a lot of television while languishing, though, which will probably mean blather. And comments and email, of course, as always, still, yet. I'm the worst correspondent ever, honestly. Years, decades of extremely belated cards and letters under my belt, and these days I have all sorts of new formats and technologies in which to slack. Which is pretty much my history in general, actually. Time keeps marching on, bringing with it new toys to make me distracted and lazy. Stellar.

Anyway. I can never resist an icon meme, so I nicked one from derryderrydown. ( Chop, chop )