Facebook Is Insensitive.

In other news, water- still wet. So I was bored and taking quizzes on Facebook, and one of them was "What's your mental disorder?" My result was OCD. This was the quiz result text:

"You are an extreme stickler for things. Things have to be just the way you want them to be, but you can’t help it, it is just your crazy coming through. You may be some neat freak, very repetitive, or maybe you just can’t help but pull out 12 hairs every time you hear a train. Whatever it is, people tend to mistake you for being crazy, but guess what, you kinda are. And another thing, the world is not gonna end if you lighten up a bit."

My thoughts? Okay... I'm pretty sure I'm not actually OCD. Just a tightly-wound control freak. (But hey, who isn't?) Also, from what I know of this disorder, OCD'ers do literally feel like "the world will end" or "something horrible will happen" if they don't follow through on their rituals. So, it's kinda flippant to say "lighten up, the world won't end". I'm sure they would if they could. And what's with the 'crazy'? That's not very nice.

Also, just because someone is a 'stickler' (who even says that anymore?), doesn't make them OCD.

So... how do real people with actual Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder feel about this quiz? I hear people making references to being "OCD" all the time, and it kinda bugs me. I feel like, for people who really have this disorder, that probably gets really old, really fast.

I hear "Oh, I'm just OCD!" by someone doing some random, overly neat or important-to-them little thing. I sometimes want to say, "No. You're not. You're neurotic, or perfectionist, or just plain weird. But arranging your hairclips by size doesn't mean you have a mental disorder. Shut up, already". I feel like it's up there with "That's so gay" as an annoying and inaccurate description of a vague negative that erases the people to whom it would actually apply. (Whew! That was a hell of a sentence!)

Of course, I'm talking out my ass here, so I'd welcome the thoughts or opinions of anyone out there who does actually have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

The Four-Hours-O'Sleep Post- with PSA!

So I went to the Shakesville meet-up in Chicago yesterday. And do you know, it was a very long drive. I had such a good time, though; it was totally worth it. But Ferret had work this morning, so we had to drive back later that night. It was Not Fun. I don't recommend it.

But we had such a great time- putting faces to names, having good food and conversation, watching Giant Shark vs. Mega Octopus (no, really, I swear), and laughing so hard I almost fell over. Ferret wasn't really expecting to enjoy herself- she was all grouchy and sick and like "but I don't know anyone!" That all changed when some lurkers at our table broke out the Settlers of Catan game. She was all over that. Which made me happy that she was happy. So cute.

I also got to meet Melissa McEwan, who is possibly the coolest person in the universe. Srsly, you guys, I was having a ~gasp**squee!**~ moment. I won't say Shakesville "changed my life", because that reminds me of a commercial for a weight-loss product- don't ask me, I don't know. I will say it changed the way I thought and felt and articulated about so many things.

So many, people. And I am profoundly grateful to her for creating that place.

I talked to so many great people- everyone was so awesome. I yammered on for 6. Solid. Hours. I have spent so long here in the house alone, talking to no one but the cats, mostly, til Ferret gets home. And she's really not a chatty person. So I felt like a sponge, soaking in all this conversation. And I felt like a floodgate, letting out SO MANY thoughts and feelings and opinions and "Oh my Ceiling Cat this shit I read yesterday is so funny I jizzed. in. my pants" type moments. I just wish that I could have it more often without having to drive for several hours. But I am very grateful for yesterday. And I am so, so glad we did go. We almost didn't, but then we did. Yay!

And I am so, so very out of it right now. Exhaustion blogging, wooooo!

I also wanted to add a PSA:

For those people who are dating Twilight fans- If she tells you she wishes you were more like Edward Cullen, this does NOT mean you should stalk her or attempt to control her life. (Unless she specifically asks you to do those things. Then yeah, get freaky.) What she probably means by this request is that she wants you to adopt a stupid hairstyle and frequently spout cheesy lines about how she's the center of your universe and how life is meaningless without her. You may also need to get some body glitter. (Disclaimer: Even if you do these things, she's probably not going to jump off a cliff if you dump her.)

If she says she's a Jacob fan, this is NOT an invitation to sexually assault her. Even if she doesn't punch you for it, her dad will probably not congratulate you when she tells him about it. She may mean she wants you to turn into a giant wolf, which means you will need to have A Serious Talk about either her preferences or her connection to reality. Good luck with that.

Movie Review (with extra parentheses)!

So my Ferret and I were browsing the secondhand stores for movies (since The Fantastic Mr. Fox isn't out in our town yet), and we found a Stan Lee cartoon in the Anime section called Mosaic. I don't expect much out of Stan, but this was... ugh. Ferret perhaps has lower expectations than mine, because she liked it.

It's about a girl who wants to be an actress (of course) who lives with her obsessive Interpol agent dad (of course) in a New York townhouse (of course). She's blond (of course) and cute and perky (of course) and likes to inexplicably dance around in her skimpy pajamas before bed (of course) and gets her powers in a freak accident (this is Stan Lee, so of course).

I'ma make like the Count from Sesame Street here: "Seven! Seven trite tropes! Ah-ah-ah!" And that's just so far.

I won't even go into the inherent sexism, truly awful dialogue (maybe it works better on a comic book page), made-for-tv animation, and 1-dimensional characters.

Hell, I won't touch the 'heroine foils would-be rapists' scene that all superheroine movies apparently must include by law.

Ferret pointed out that I had chosen the movie in the first place. I replied that the basic premise- chameleon girl kicks ass- was kinda cool, but to win my praise requires at least some originality and technique. They put more effort into the box design than the damn movie.

I mean, good start. Girl superhero, great. So... couldn't they make her plain, an aspiring doctor, or at least brunette? Could they give Storm some company and make her a POC? Could they at least make the animation and voice work good enough (Fail, Anna Paquin) to make her a good actress? Painful. And hearing Stan yammer on about how girls can relate to this girl- cause she's pretty and fun!- made me less disposed to be impressed by it from the beginning. Having a vagina does not automatically mean you relate. You could have given her some kind of depth.

Afterward, we watched Aeon Flux. It may make an apt comparison to say that I found it to be intelligent, subversive, refreshing movie-manna for my cerebellum after the previous brain-numbing animated excretion.

So, uh, listen Stan. Dude, you're not even trying. Please to retire with your pile of money and just go sign autographs at ComicCons from now on, okay?

Please?

And Stay Out!

So I am feeling cranky today. Having had a week of period-induced mood swings and being banned from the computer after I read the news on Shakesville and broke down sobbing, I was looking forward to some Halloween fun. And there was some fun- I got to tie-dye my underwear, and be a really cute Velma! (These two facts really aren't related.)

Ferret and I were looking forward to going to the Halloween party at Local Gay Bar, checking out costumes, having a drink, and watching the drag show. One of the performers is a friend of ours, and we always like seeing her work. Unfortunately, it turned out to be not so fun. It was so crowded the Fire Marshal would have fainted, and so full of cigarette smoke our eyes started to water as soon as we stepped in. But we were determined to have a good time. There were some great costumes, good performance, plus we paid the cover charge, dammit! I was hoping to stick it out to see the costume contest, but we finally gave up and headed out. As we fought our way out, we heard the emcee say, "How many lesbians we got up in here?" [cheer] "Now how many gay boys?" [cheer] "And where are the straight people?" [really loud cheer].

Yup. The straight people outnumbered the queers in the one gay bar in town. And maybe it's my hormones, but that really bugged me. I try, I really do, to be inclusive. And I want everyone to get along. And I feel kind of... mean saying this, but:

Dear Straight People: EVERY OTHER BAR IN TOWN is for you. But hey, thanks a bunch for crowding me and my partner out of the one club we feel comfortable in because you want a cheap thrill on Halloween. Hey, you know what? The drag performers don't just do this on Halloween. They do it all the time. It's their thing. You can come see it even when you aren't in a costume. You can come see it even if you're sober. Yeah. But you'd know that, if you weren't all jerks. By the way, fuck you.

See? That's mean, right? But it's how I feel. There're never that many straight people there on a regular night, and there definitely isn't that level of binge-drunk stupidity.

Maybe if it hadn't been so crowded as to be the opposite of fun I wouldn't be bitching so much. Maybe. Maybe if there was that kind of crowd, with that percentage of non-queers, all the time, it would be different. Maybe I wouldn't feel like my community was made into a tourist attraction for one night. Maybe I wouldn't feel like my space had been taken over and appropriated. Maybe if there was more of a visible gay community, I wouldn't feel like this place is really all we have. Maybe if, I reiterate, every other bar in town wasn't a "regular" (meaning "for straight people" bar), this wouldn't be a big deal for me. Maybe.

Great. I feel angry, and I feel like an exclusionary bigot at the same time.

Oh well, next weekend it'll be back to normal.

Happy Halloween.

(By the way, if I go into the grocery store tonight and hear a bunch of cross-wearing preppies talking excitedly about their "Sam-hane night ritual", you'll see me on the news. I'll be the one in handcuffs.)

I really have no patience with anyone, do I?