Last night I read Fairest and I really, really identified with the main character. I also felt, for the millionth time, that I was getting a little annoyed with the stock male character - the one whose personality beyond "funny and charming" (which any personals ad can do) is null, the one who must be created by the reader. Frankly, I'm tired of making up boys in my mind or making literature boys into ones I know. I want someone to hit me with another Eugenides (The Thief) or even a Hamlet. I want to love the main character as an entity, not a shell that I fill. Down with the stock man. When I'm writing my fic for night_lands this time, unlike the shell guy, Solo from Deleran, my character's love interest will be fascinating. I want her to be addicted to him because there's something there to desire beyond looks, kind words ("You're beautiful" doesn't cut it), and a sense of humor.
Speaking of relationships in fiction and real life, tonight I read cleolinda's outline of what makes the Twilight series total crack for women, and then a link to a rant about a rant about "nice guys" which despite the swearing was really hilarious. I'm not sure I think this guy is typical of the kind of gus I know, but I'm fascinated by the concepts here and I've been thinking a lot about relationships. A couple of my friends of the male gender - of vastly varying ages - had responded to my freakout about Hairspray, which was truly more about my own insecurity than anything. They said that I had talent, that I had something to offer. They said a lot of encouraging things and I feel a little better.
Some people desperately want to be loved. I have love and I know it, it's something else that I crave. I want to be desired. And nobody can argue with me when I say that extra fat anywhere other than the bust or the hips is not considered desirable or sexy. I want to be desired for the awesome combination of my soul, my mind, and my body. And so today when I tried and did a pretty mediocre job of limiting my food intake (though I didn't completely crash either despite my foul emotional mood), I was a little disheartened. It was well covered by my extreme pleasure at the food - the spanikopita was stunning tonight - but disheartening all the same.
My boss is on the phone beside me with his wife and kids. It's really sweet. Makes me wonder what it would have been like to have a Dad. Or what it would be like to have one beside me with kids to share.
And there, folks, is the sum total of my issues at present. I have all this time to think about what my life might have been like, and what it could be like, and just like the girl in Fairest, I am at a crossroads. Here is where I make some of the more major decisions of my life.
My Mom once brought up the idea of how to make Russian Roulette into a dice game. Five sides say CLICK. One side says BANG. I told my friend Ricki about it, and on ocassion when I speak of all the things that upset me, and there's a silence, I'll say, "Click." She knows exactly what I mean. Tonight I feel that way a little, even though I am mostly satisfied. I just have so many dreams and aspirations.
I wrote some poetry tonight.