(no subject)
I'm busy busy with rereading Margaret Atwood's Dancing Girls but here are some things I scribbled in Turkish class, posted here for future reference and also to delude myself into thinking I'm actually using my journal. These are seperate fragments of hopefully the same fic, written out of order because they came that way and I'm too lazy to make sense of them now (except maybe trim a few and add a couple of more stuff). I'll keep editing this until something substantial comes out.
I like the idea of Karen not being used to being out of control, and her loving math because it represents order in the universe. I don't think that'll make Karen bland or less adventurous or less interesting: this is actually, hopefully, kind of the point of the story. She can't make sense of Jim but she follows him anyway, even though it frustrates her to no end because she's used to being able to see where things are going with guys but Jim's an enigma for her (in that sense she kind of becomes the anti-Pam, bc she takes a chance on Jim). But that also could be why she was drawn to him in the first place, to feel the out of control trashy novels kind of love, to have the amazing sex that really is amazing. I really really like Karen but, as Phyllis says in every confrontation fic, it's really too bad for her.
Calculus has eaten my brain as well, but in a good way (is there any other way to feel about you my love my darling my calculus). The problem is I don't know much about math in general so all my "references" will be elementary, and thus, lame. But no matter, onwards!
Karen has always liked certainty.
She loves being right.
She loves knowing things, categorizing them according to this and that, filing them away deep into the curves of her brain, ready to be summoned at her demand.
She likes the way it keeps her witty and her humour dry. She likes the way she keeps others on their toes.
She savours the worry behind irises, the fidgeting, the nervous smiles, and knows to smooth them over with an easy grin and a small soft hand brushing the inside of a thigh.
She in always in control.
That's why she loves math, it assures and soothes.
But she can't read Jim because he can match her easy grin with his own and she feels her mouth sliding off her face.
She feels feels feels but never knows and is ready to smack anyone who tells her that is better.
She calculates the looks he gives her and the looks he gives her and arrives at all the wrong conclusions.
She traces the golden ratio on Jim's lips and palms. (She learns)He giggles softly in his sleep.
She has stacks of reference books with pig latin names and unintelligible indexes that he teases her about when he helps her install new shelves (move in). His laughter is warm and infectious and soon she is wiping tears from her eyes. Afterwards she explains why, slowly and softly, over thank-you-wine-and-pizza, and is secretly delighted when his head bobs with finality and he smiles widely -almost tenderly?- at her. He gets it.
The earth beneath her feet is not a perfect sphere but a deformed, deflated one.
But slowly their[Jim&Pam] history unfolds in front of her like an intricate problem and she tries to add herself in as one of the variables but she gets cancelled out and can't make it past the third step.
And then Pam enters the equation and it all should make sense but she refuses to acknowledge her importance in solving the question.
She adds two and two, takes the square root and arrives at two again.
In the end she has to come face to face with the fact that she'd been wrong either way.
She should've been content to know and not strived to feel.
I like the idea of Karen not being used to being out of control, and her loving math because it represents order in the universe. I don't think that'll make Karen bland or less adventurous or less interesting: this is actually, hopefully, kind of the point of the story. She can't make sense of Jim but she follows him anyway, even though it frustrates her to no end because she's used to being able to see where things are going with guys but Jim's an enigma for her (in that sense she kind of becomes the anti-Pam, bc she takes a chance on Jim). But that also could be why she was drawn to him in the first place, to feel the out of control trashy novels kind of love, to have the amazing sex that really is amazing. I really really like Karen but, as Phyllis says in every confrontation fic, it's really too bad for her.
Calculus has eaten my brain as well, but in a good way (is there any other way to feel about you my love my darling my calculus). The problem is I don't know much about math in general so all my "references" will be elementary, and thus, lame. But no matter, onwards!
Karen has always liked certainty.
She loves being right.
She loves knowing things, categorizing them according to this and that, filing them away deep into the curves of her brain, ready to be summoned at her demand.
She likes the way it keeps her witty and her humour dry. She likes the way she keeps others on their toes.
She savours the worry behind irises, the fidgeting, the nervous smiles, and knows to smooth them over with an easy grin and a small soft hand brushing the inside of a thigh.
She in always in control.
That's why she loves math, it assures and soothes.
But she can't read Jim because he can match her easy grin with his own and she feels her mouth sliding off her face.
She feels feels feels but never knows and is ready to smack anyone who tells her that is better.
She calculates the looks he gives her and the looks he gives her and arrives at all the wrong conclusions.
She traces the golden ratio on Jim's lips and palms. (She learns)He giggles softly in his sleep.
She has stacks of reference books with pig latin names and unintelligible indexes that he teases her about when he helps her install new shelves (move in). His laughter is warm and infectious and soon she is wiping tears from her eyes. Afterwards she explains why, slowly and softly, over thank-you-wine-and-pizza, and is secretly delighted when his head bobs with finality and he smiles widely -almost tenderly?- at her. He gets it.
The earth beneath her feet is not a perfect sphere but a deformed, deflated one.
But slowly their[Jim&Pam] history unfolds in front of her like an intricate problem and she tries to add herself in as one of the variables but she gets cancelled out and can't make it past the third step.
And then Pam enters the equation and it all should make sense but she refuses to acknowledge her importance in solving the question.
She adds two and two, takes the square root and arrives at two again.
In the end she has to come face to face with the fact that she'd been wrong either way.
She should've been content to know and not strived to feel.