Sunday, May 31, 2015

An Open Letter to my Imaginary Friend....

I'm imagining a bunch of people who have no reason to give a crap about this reading it, and the one person I'd like to read it... not. Life is hilarious.

*Ahem: Addendum and disclaimer. I talk A LOT about communication. I am in fact a communication junkie. Not being able to communicate when I want to is tremendously frustrating to me. 

I just sent a tweet to my favourite celebrity:

Because I am basically incorrigible.

I call him my Imaginary Friend, to assuage my annoyance that this person who I have complicated reasons for enjoying interacting with knows next to nothing about me and is unlikely to ever reciprocate any platonic feelings I have. Bloody annoying. Especially since I really have no justification at all for being annoyed. Look, I also find him pretty sexy, but that's more or less irrelevant. A hell of a lot of why I find him sexy is his mind. It's humanity and intelligence that I find sexy. And a sense of humour. Oh yes, he's quite pretty too, but if he was a dick I wouldn't care about that.

Wil Wheaton. He's a pretty awesome guy.
We should all follow this instruction.

I like lots of actors for a myriad of reasons. I don't usually bother to get in the least perturbed by the non-relationship I have with them. I'm not actually a crazy stalker, though I may occasionally pretend to be one for comedic purpose. I am a terror for a cheap laugh. And sometimes an expensive one. Tony and I have a running joke over he and I not having, not having sex with our respective celebrity "crushes". (that doubled up sentence was not a mistake) - this running conversation goes along these lines:


The joys of liking a person you know it's ridiculous to even bother liking. Fandom really is a strange thing. Humanity develops connections with people it has no business developing connections with. And occasionally we hope for a fairytale ending that's actually pretty ridiculous, since the celebrities that we attach our affection to are seldom very much like the people we think they are. We think that social media gives us a window into their existence, but it only opens the window to what they want us to see - usually - we still know very little about them as complete people. That's what's making me frustrated in this instance. I find that I'd LIKE to know the whole person, because the window I've been allowed to see through intrigues me. 

Kitty and I went to Armageddon Expo this year, the first Con I've taken her to. I paid for celebrity photos and everything because, what the hell - YOLO*. There was no simple way to decide who I would fork over a frankly stupid amount of money for us to be photographed with (we wanted to do it together - as Mother and Daughter go, we like each others company far too much) Armageddon saved us the trouble by having a double team that made us BOTH happy. Sadly I look like CRAP in the photo - long day, illness playing up quite a bit... but I'd made Karl and Katee laugh just before the shot was taken so WE GOT A GREAT PICTURE...

OMG I have both Katee Sackhoff AND Karl Urban's arms around me. SQUEEE....

But I like these guys in the routine boring "OMG, STARBUCK" kind of way... Actually no, to be fair... Karl is a Kiwi and my relationship with Kiwi celebrities is complex because we Kiwis are a bit odd. He's family in an odd kind of way. I follow quite a few Kiwi *names* on twitter, and I chat to them as normally as I do to people I know personally. I tease David Farrier for the hilarious and adorable dweeb that he is. I openly show John Campbell all the love because he's been a good boy and deserves getting the cousin like friendly pat on the back. And Karl with his slight air of distance and smirk of a man who knows slightly too well how awesome he is...well I told his girlfriend about his early career in TV in New Zealand. Because family occasionally needs to embarrass you back into line. If I'd really been that fucking obsessed with either one of them I'd have made damn sure I was wearing an appropriate fandom shirt. Instead of my very favourite geeky tee. VOTE SAXON. People who have to ask what this is from will be frowned upon. John Simm... I might completely lose my ability to be *cool* about celebrity around him. After all, the geekiest tattoo in the world is on my shoulder, and it's about him. Well, about The Master. But *HIS* Master.

Sexy and he knows it.

But the point of this is about the inability to tell the ones that mean something to you, for whatever reason, that you care about them on some normal level WITHOUT SOUNDING LIKE A MAD AS SHIT BUNNY BOILING STALKER TYPE. So I find myself looking at a person that I genuinely want to try to turn into a friend, with no power whatsoever to even TRY to. Oh sure I can be witty, charming, amusingly crazy... all the things that are me. Also arrogant. But those are also all the things that offer zero evidence of my not being an insane fan with a bottle of ether behind my back. And I can't in the least fault any celebrity for not wanting to risk befriending a fan they've never even met, solely on the basis of them occasionally manage to raise a laugh. Funny people can still be insane people.

Insane people can still be friends...

But as I said to my Imaginary Friend, I hate writing fan letters. I've been talked into it twice. Once when I was a teenager and all my stupid friends wanted to write to some jackass and so I HAD TO (something, something best writer something blah blah blah.... little did they know that because I didn't give a crap my *fan* letter was actually pretty... not-fan-y) and then much more recently I was talked into it as a nice gesture to a celebrity who does a hell of a lot of good work.... but again I didn't overly care (I cared that he did good things, I just didn't care about writing to him. I'm not really the ego polishing kind). I like Twitter in a lot of respects, I can send short messages of approval, or derision or flirting or whatever to celebrities and I don't have to feel the vague sensation of nausea I get when I start writing an ego buffing piece.

I know this is how I'd react to fan mail.

The things that I look for in a friend are there in this one. Humanity, intelligence, humour. A great smile. OK the great smile doesn't matter a damn, but Paul's is in a league of it's own. I have no idea exactly what it is that makes me really want to get to know you Paul, but SOMETHING. Some combination of things that makes me see a like soul. M'anama-chara.

So, my sweet, one-sided penpal. Here's the thing. I'd love to meet you, but here I am at the bottom of the world - unlikely to any time soon. Those long conversations losing track of time seem unlikely to occur without an unnatural occurrence. I'd love the opportunity to become proper friends. One day. I'd love for you to follow me. But. I won't pay for it, I won't demand it, I won't even ask for it. I won't suck up to you. Because what would be the point in any of that? I like you, I'd like to try to be friends with you - what I manage to see around the edges of your quite good walls is a guy I think I'd get along with. But it's worth nothing to me to have you follow me for any reason other than because you want to. I hope that one day you'll decide that you like me enough to risk trying to get to know a fan. One can only do what one can do. One will not give in mind you *grin*.

Does this look like the sort of girl who quits?

Peace. Out.

* Bahahhahahaha I finally found a reason to use YOLO in a blog!

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