"Me, me, me." "Me too!"
This is Livejournal, and so we talk about ourselves.
The Rules: Comment to this post. I will choose seven interests from your profile and you will explain what they mean and why you are interested in them. Post this along with your answers in your own journal so others can play along.
Interests chosen by roseneko.
Difficult women:
This one is hard to explain. I enjoy the company of women who aren't willing to accommodate my every childish whim. I can be astonishingly lazy and inconsiderate, and it helps to have people around who are willing to call bullshit on my bad behavior. Women who are difficult are those who are confident, self-possessed, intolerant of nonsense, and (dare I say it) a little uppity. Difficult women make me stand up a little straighter, behave a little better, think a little more critically, and act with a little more compassion. Women who are easy, by comparison, aren't as interesting to me - they don't challenge me to be a better person.
Why distinguish difficult women from, say, difficult men? Men who are difficult tend to be difficult in ways that only drain one's mental reserves, and thus don't serve to make me into a sharper, better person. Those rare men who are difficult in the positive ways I've described above ... well, I haven't met any in a long time.
It probably says something less than flattering about me that I seem to need character-reinforcing feedback from strong, difficult women. I mean, a proper sort of man can improve himself without relying on outside influences. I don't mind claiming this character flaw, though. A man's got to recognize his limitations.
Unexpected topography:
We all know that the map is not the territory, but coming across terrain that is wildly different than what the map suggests presents a possibility for enlightenment. I don't appreciate those opportunities as much as I should. More often than not, I will curse and kick stones and cry to the heavens when I come across a ravine I wasn't expecting. I list this as an interest primarily to remind myself that obstacles can be opportunities.
Pickled garlic:
Who doesn't like pickled garlic? There's a vendor who comes to the Renaissance Festival - they sell dip mixes and salsas and pickled garlic in various flavors. I pick up a couple jars every year, and I have to remember to ration them and not eat every single clove with a fork.
Fault tolerant omelets:
My omelet technique is unstoppable. I can put all sorts of stuff in an omelet and keep the thing intact. There's a special kind of pride that comes with crafting a well-made omelet!
Speculative fiction:
The best kind. I love reading a story where the author asks "what if?" questions I never thought of before, and answers them in ways I hadn't imagined. Write me a story with starships, superheroes, or swashbuckling smugglers. Or all three! Give me dystopia, give me gleaming chrome cities, give me a sentient Dyson sphere with a penchant for peeping in on its residents. All of these please me greatly. I want time travelling terrorists to give assault rifles to the Confederate South. I want to transplant the modern-day island of Nantucket into the middle of the Holy Roman Empire during the Thirty Years' War. I want a ragtag band of second-rate superheroes to battle villains and corrupted superheroes and save the city from certain doom.
I fancy myself a writer sometimes, and when I write, speculative fiction is what ends up on the page. I'm not nearly as good or diligent as the authors I admire, but it still pleases me to try.
Pinups:
Damn sexy, is all, and in an old-fashioned, nostalgic kind of way. A little mental stretching will find a contradiction between me liking old school pinups (and their modern-day analogues done in the same style) and me liking difficult women. The girls in pinup posters, after all, are dolled up to look accessible, friendly, glamorous, and perhaps a little dim-witted.
Life's a complex tapestry and full of inconsistencies - what can I say? Pictures of pinup girls are pleasing to look at, but surrounding myself with women who act like that in the real world would get tiresome pretty quickly.
Extra slutty olive oil:
Yeah, I dunno. It sounds funny, and I'd be amused if someone were to sell ESOO in the grocery store. I don't know if I'd cook with it, though. I mean, I have kids.
The Rules: Comment to this post. I will choose seven interests from your profile and you will explain what they mean and why you are interested in them. Post this along with your answers in your own journal so others can play along.
Interests chosen by roseneko.
Difficult women:
This one is hard to explain. I enjoy the company of women who aren't willing to accommodate my every childish whim. I can be astonishingly lazy and inconsiderate, and it helps to have people around who are willing to call bullshit on my bad behavior. Women who are difficult are those who are confident, self-possessed, intolerant of nonsense, and (dare I say it) a little uppity. Difficult women make me stand up a little straighter, behave a little better, think a little more critically, and act with a little more compassion. Women who are easy, by comparison, aren't as interesting to me - they don't challenge me to be a better person.
Why distinguish difficult women from, say, difficult men? Men who are difficult tend to be difficult in ways that only drain one's mental reserves, and thus don't serve to make me into a sharper, better person. Those rare men who are difficult in the positive ways I've described above ... well, I haven't met any in a long time.
It probably says something less than flattering about me that I seem to need character-reinforcing feedback from strong, difficult women. I mean, a proper sort of man can improve himself without relying on outside influences. I don't mind claiming this character flaw, though. A man's got to recognize his limitations.
Unexpected topography:
We all know that the map is not the territory, but coming across terrain that is wildly different than what the map suggests presents a possibility for enlightenment. I don't appreciate those opportunities as much as I should. More often than not, I will curse and kick stones and cry to the heavens when I come across a ravine I wasn't expecting. I list this as an interest primarily to remind myself that obstacles can be opportunities.
Pickled garlic:
Who doesn't like pickled garlic? There's a vendor who comes to the Renaissance Festival - they sell dip mixes and salsas and pickled garlic in various flavors. I pick up a couple jars every year, and I have to remember to ration them and not eat every single clove with a fork.
Fault tolerant omelets:
My omelet technique is unstoppable. I can put all sorts of stuff in an omelet and keep the thing intact. There's a special kind of pride that comes with crafting a well-made omelet!
Speculative fiction:
The best kind. I love reading a story where the author asks "what if?" questions I never thought of before, and answers them in ways I hadn't imagined. Write me a story with starships, superheroes, or swashbuckling smugglers. Or all three! Give me dystopia, give me gleaming chrome cities, give me a sentient Dyson sphere with a penchant for peeping in on its residents. All of these please me greatly. I want time travelling terrorists to give assault rifles to the Confederate South. I want to transplant the modern-day island of Nantucket into the middle of the Holy Roman Empire during the Thirty Years' War. I want a ragtag band of second-rate superheroes to battle villains and corrupted superheroes and save the city from certain doom.
I fancy myself a writer sometimes, and when I write, speculative fiction is what ends up on the page. I'm not nearly as good or diligent as the authors I admire, but it still pleases me to try.
Pinups:
Damn sexy, is all, and in an old-fashioned, nostalgic kind of way. A little mental stretching will find a contradiction between me liking old school pinups (and their modern-day analogues done in the same style) and me liking difficult women. The girls in pinup posters, after all, are dolled up to look accessible, friendly, glamorous, and perhaps a little dim-witted.
Life's a complex tapestry and full of inconsistencies - what can I say? Pictures of pinup girls are pleasing to look at, but surrounding myself with women who act like that in the real world would get tiresome pretty quickly.
Extra slutty olive oil:
Yeah, I dunno. It sounds funny, and I'd be amused if someone were to sell ESOO in the grocery store. I don't know if I'd cook with it, though. I mean, I have kids.