Summer Soon

The month of May has already started two days ago. I love May because it finally announces the arrival of summer and the departure of winter. I hate winter, I hate freezing, I hate snow, I hate slush. I hate returning home with frozen hands and feet, no matter how well I dress up. Even when it does get warmer during the winter, the weather is crap because it starts raining, and then the sidewalks and streets are icy. Long live flowers and birds.

I went to the National Archives and Library two days ago and took a total of six volumes: two from The History of Middle-Earth series by Tolkien, Emily of the New Moon by Lucy Maud Montgomery (I read this one several years ago and it was one of my favorite), a book on the Salem Witches Trials, a book of poetry by Gaston Miron (Quebec poet) and a book containing three novels by the Brontë sisters (Jane Eyre by Charlotte, Wuthering Heights by Emily and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.

I have started reading Jane Eyre, and I quite enjoy it up to now. In spite of it containing much “retenu” (reseveration, I believe?) in its language and what it says, it still contains some very interesting passages, some of which I would qualify plainly as feminist. Not hardcore feminism, but still feminism none the less. I’m not saying the book is, in its entirety, a call to the liberation of women, but it does contain a certain wish for freedom from social conventions. When I read this, I am much disappointed as I see what some women have become today, what they force themselves to be for the sake of fashion, conventions and social expectations. Says the girl wearing her mom’s old robe, torn at the sleeves (and with a cute sheep on the top of one breast).

Speaking of fashion, I seriously lack panties. At least three pairs, if not four, have disappeared mysteriously in the past months. I am now left with only three pairs, if I exclude thongs, which I never wear. I will go shopping later today with my boyfriend, but first we have to go to university to arrange some things concerning my abandoning of some classes.

If we have enough time and he feels right enough, we might even go at the Toys’R’Us to have a lot of fun looking at toys. No buying though, because there are only 60$ left in my account. My mom does provide me with money, but considering the fact that I don’t work, live away from home and don’t want to come off as a spoiled brat, I won’t start asking her for money when I use it to buy toys. I also have to buy some more food.

There is a rant I have long been wanting to do. It concerns fanlistings. I know that fanlistings are not to be taken too seriously. They are just for fun, entertaining little pieces of…well, nothing, really. Just lists of fans. I love them, though, the problem doesn’t concern their very existence, or even the current hiatus due to mail being blocked by certain email providers. No, it concerns certain subjects.

There are fanlistings for many things I don’t like, or plainly hate. For example, I hate mushrooms and have no interest whatsoever in seeing anything of Pirates of the Caribbean (I saw parts of the first movie), but I have no problem with anyone owning fanlistings for them. They exist and, I hope, are not (too) harmful to anyone. If someone says “I love mushrooms”, I won’t mind; if someone says “I like POTC”, I’ll feel sorry for the person, but to each one’s tastes.

There is one type of subjects that disturbs me a little bit more. I am referring to, for example, Adolf Hitler. I do like studying on the subject. I have read a very interesting biography of the man and I do believe it is interesting. However, when I think “fanlisting”, I associate the word with positive things, things that are fun in themselves, enjoyable. I love strawberries, they are orgasmically delicious; I love Nightwish, their music is absolutely excellent. Hitler, however, is another matter. But, whatever, I actually have an easier time accepting it, somehow, perhaps because I am less touched by the subject. I do feel terribly awful when I think of the horrors that took place during World War II, but it is not a personal matter. None of my relatives has been touched very directly by the war, since we lived too far from it and no member of my family was a soldier.

So, on to the real topic. Let us take the first of two topics, actually: paranoia. Other than this very little topic, I have absolutely nothing against the webmaster or any members of the fanlisting but, come on, paranoia. “I’m paranoiac and I sooo love it! I feel so much better ever since I have started being paranoiac!” There is not a single explanation of how one can love paranoia, on the fanlisting. There is a definition of fanlistings, saying they are “website[s] that devotes [themselves] to a certain subject matter”. I always think of devotion as something you do when you love something. I can understand that you would devote yourself to the cause of paranoia, to help people suffering from it. You don’t devote yourself to paranoia. “Let’s make other people paranoiac!” or something…

I am not paranoiac. There is something I am though, for which there is a fanlisting. I’m not talking about beauty here, I’m talking about obsession. People probably take it in the fanish sense “OMG I’m obsessed by Johnny Depp!”. However, when I think obsession, I think about those nights when I can’t fall asleep because of the voice telling me I’m an awful creature of evil, put on earth to suffer and make others suffer, or the voice that tells me not to open the trash can lid because said can is full of worms, or that my boyfriend hasn’t called yet because he hates me and is gone to see another girl. I think of trying to stop myself from counting my steps, trying to ignore the fact that someone just touched my pen and OMG it’s so disgusting and filthy, trying to stop thinking about how many people have used the shower before me, and so on. It is not a pretty thing, not a fanlisting-worthy thing. It blows, it sucks, I hate it, detest it, despise it. And whatever definition you will give to the word, to me, it will always be an awful, terrible thing, for which nobody should create a fanlisting.

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