Mah brain. 'Tis on teh crack again.
I don't know if this is funny ha-ha, or just funny weird. Definetely a sad indictment of my priorities as a human being. (And also an excuse for this icon.)
Dear Alex & Olivia,
I have to confess. I've fallen in love with another pairing. I didn't mean to; but thanks to years of painstaking research by a bunch of Silicon Valley techies, temptation was just one click away. And then another click. And then another. And before I knew it, it was five a.m. and I had spent six hours reading every piece of C.J. Cregg/Abbey Bartlet fanfiction that I could get my hands - er, cursor - on. I meant to read something from you, too; I know I've never gone to Passion & Perfection without you before. But the draw was just too strong for me to resist.
I've never been completely faithful, and I know you're aware of that. A fling with Cold Case, the on-again, off-again affair with Stargate, the one-night stands with ToS and Criminal Intent, the occasional tryst with 30 Rock or Homicide. I came to you on the rebound in the first place, strung out on the loss of This is Wonderland; DaVinci leaving me for City Hall. When Without a Trace changed timeslots, you blew into my life like a beautifully scripted hurricane; and I was just a naive, small-town Canadian girl powerless to the temptation of your big, Americanized production - gunfire and aggression flirting constantly with plot twists and glimpses at personal lives. And always the river of subtext winding through every long glance between the bone-shatteringly gorgeous detective and the graceful, passionate ADA. You romanced me beyond my nightly reruns and turned me to the internet, where I entered the often dark underbelly of the television world: fandom. A word I hadn't known existed to describe a world I didn't know existed, a world full of as-yet undiscovered writers with quicksilver keyboards and overactive imaginations turning every second of every show into more, so much more. I was seduced. I read the stories, picked a screen name, joined the forums, met others like myself, became addicted to the drug that was A/O. The junkie within could never get enough to satisfy my cravings, so I turned to writing stories myself. I missed Christmas Eve, the birthdays of close friends, mandatory school deadlines, hooked on the rush of finding the next great fic. We've been together for almost three years now. I've dedicated seasons to you. I want you to know that nothing will ever change my feelings for you, that I still believe in the magic no matter what obstacles the Dark Lords of NBC may present.
But I have fallen in love with another. I'll admit it, I've never seen an entire episode. But I've read the fic. Exquisite, glorious fic that made me feel like I did those first autumn nights, alone with just my laptop and you, pulling years worth of stories to read over the course of one night. I stumbled upon them, really. I wondered how these writers could possibly make it work, a First Lady and a Press Secretary, under the nose of the President? I convinced myself that I was only interested so far as to look at the social experiment aspect, that my curiousity was purely academic, that I was only interested in the way that one could be interested by the monkeys on the Discovery Channel. I never dreamed it would go so far. Somewhere along the line, I fell. Hard. Maybe it was just the thoughts of Stockard Channing in a power suit that overrode my monkey theory, maybe it was the forbidden aspect of it all that broke down the shield of academia, but whatever it was, I was swept off my feet, my Mrs. Robinson complex the size of Russia compounded by the very nature of the pairing - strong, powerful, knockout gorgeous older women. While the love affair may be new and untried, I can't help myself, I know I'm in love with them. However, I'm also still very much in love with you, my first true love, my first pairing, my first foray into the bold, vibrant world of fandom. They might be getting all of my attention at the moment, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still madly in love with you. We've had some great years, and I know without a doubt that I'll always love you. But they have brought so much passion to my fanlife, a passion which I cannot ignore. They burn brightly now, in the heat that is new fandom love, but I also get the distinct impression that they are unlikely to fade. With that said, I would like to offer you a compromise, in which you learn to accept that my attention will now be divided, that this show will get more time than the standard hour-per-week of all the ones before it, and in return I will promise you my undying dedication and love. I believe we can have it both ways, and that I can love two fandoms.
All my love,
Sterling
Yeah. I'm gonna schedule an emergency Betty Ford visit for my brain. As you can tell, I'm obviously just enabling its crack addiction.
And now, to the feed store with me!
Dear Alex & Olivia,
I have to confess. I've fallen in love with another pairing. I didn't mean to; but thanks to years of painstaking research by a bunch of Silicon Valley techies, temptation was just one click away. And then another click. And then another. And before I knew it, it was five a.m. and I had spent six hours reading every piece of C.J. Cregg/Abbey Bartlet fanfiction that I could get my hands - er, cursor - on. I meant to read something from you, too; I know I've never gone to Passion & Perfection without you before. But the draw was just too strong for me to resist.
I've never been completely faithful, and I know you're aware of that. A fling with Cold Case, the on-again, off-again affair with Stargate, the one-night stands with ToS and Criminal Intent, the occasional tryst with 30 Rock or Homicide. I came to you on the rebound in the first place, strung out on the loss of This is Wonderland; DaVinci leaving me for City Hall. When Without a Trace changed timeslots, you blew into my life like a beautifully scripted hurricane; and I was just a naive, small-town Canadian girl powerless to the temptation of your big, Americanized production - gunfire and aggression flirting constantly with plot twists and glimpses at personal lives. And always the river of subtext winding through every long glance between the bone-shatteringly gorgeous detective and the graceful, passionate ADA. You romanced me beyond my nightly reruns and turned me to the internet, where I entered the often dark underbelly of the television world: fandom. A word I hadn't known existed to describe a world I didn't know existed, a world full of as-yet undiscovered writers with quicksilver keyboards and overactive imaginations turning every second of every show into more, so much more. I was seduced. I read the stories, picked a screen name, joined the forums, met others like myself, became addicted to the drug that was A/O. The junkie within could never get enough to satisfy my cravings, so I turned to writing stories myself. I missed Christmas Eve, the birthdays of close friends, mandatory school deadlines, hooked on the rush of finding the next great fic. We've been together for almost three years now. I've dedicated seasons to you. I want you to know that nothing will ever change my feelings for you, that I still believe in the magic no matter what obstacles the Dark Lords of NBC may present.
But I have fallen in love with another. I'll admit it, I've never seen an entire episode. But I've read the fic. Exquisite, glorious fic that made me feel like I did those first autumn nights, alone with just my laptop and you, pulling years worth of stories to read over the course of one night. I stumbled upon them, really. I wondered how these writers could possibly make it work, a First Lady and a Press Secretary, under the nose of the President? I convinced myself that I was only interested so far as to look at the social experiment aspect, that my curiousity was purely academic, that I was only interested in the way that one could be interested by the monkeys on the Discovery Channel. I never dreamed it would go so far. Somewhere along the line, I fell. Hard. Maybe it was just the thoughts of Stockard Channing in a power suit that overrode my monkey theory, maybe it was the forbidden aspect of it all that broke down the shield of academia, but whatever it was, I was swept off my feet, my Mrs. Robinson complex the size of Russia compounded by the very nature of the pairing - strong, powerful, knockout gorgeous older women. While the love affair may be new and untried, I can't help myself, I know I'm in love with them. However, I'm also still very much in love with you, my first true love, my first pairing, my first foray into the bold, vibrant world of fandom. They might be getting all of my attention at the moment, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still madly in love with you. We've had some great years, and I know without a doubt that I'll always love you. But they have brought so much passion to my fanlife, a passion which I cannot ignore. They burn brightly now, in the heat that is new fandom love, but I also get the distinct impression that they are unlikely to fade. With that said, I would like to offer you a compromise, in which you learn to accept that my attention will now be divided, that this show will get more time than the standard hour-per-week of all the ones before it, and in return I will promise you my undying dedication and love. I believe we can have it both ways, and that I can love two fandoms.
All my love,
Sterling
Yeah. I'm gonna schedule an emergency Betty Ford visit for my brain. As you can tell, I'm obviously just enabling its crack addiction.
And now, to the feed store with me!