Talking to the Universe

The Hell Year is almost over, they said.

Just wait 'til 2021, things will get better, they said.

AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAsob

This is fine.

But I'm still here. Tired, angry, feeling every second of my fifty turns around the sun some days. But still here and still kicking.

It's been slightly less than one year since I last posted, promising to post more or whatever. So that counts for something, right, in that it's been months not years? I don't know. But I've been thinking about fannish communities lately, and not just because Tumblr did a thing that made me roll my eyes and say 'here we go again.' I miss having a fannish community, for one thing, and as much as I enjoy living vicariously through Geek & Sundry, it's not quite the same as having actual friends who understand the nerdy references you drop into casual conversations because you can't help yourself. Also, most of those delightful people are twenty years younger than me and I occasionally feel like shaking my mother's cane at them. The '80s are not ancient history, children...except for they kind of are, and maybe I should accept my role as the ancient wisewoman already.

On the up side, you now know one of my secrets for not looking my age. Fandom keeps me young, trufax.

So I'm going to figure out how to port my old LJ over here -- better late than never, yes? -- and post an entry once in a while because it's easier to pretend I'm talking to the universe instead of just talking to myself. I've always been a diarist, writing out the things I'm feeling and thinking because it forces some order into my thought processes. And sometimes I find myself saying something I never realized I had in my head at all; profound or ridiculous, journaling is always full of surprises.

And that's enough nattering for today. Later!