I love the weird ass places you find in the middle of nowhere: vulture festivals and good eats slathered in hot sauce that's enough to blow you back in your chair, and leave you staring at the whirling ceiling fan, hands folded in your lap as you contemplate the meaning of your life, and how much your tastebuds meant to you.
I love the way you pass through the day like you're driving through the sky, like you're in a tunnel progressing from light to dark, and by the time you get where you're going you've left all the light behind.
I love having the window down, and putting my hand into the wind. You can feel the resistance against your palm as you drive, play your fingers through the air that suddenly feels solid. It reminds you that yeah, we're surrounded by oxygen. It makes me wonder about what it would be like to fly.
I am, let's face it, a contrary human being by nature. I am so contrary that there is a whole stack of movies I haven't seen, simply because I heard too much about them. All of it was positive, but I heard so much about them that I decided I didn't care, and had absolutely no interest in seeing them.
This contrariness has carried over, to an extent, into my fandom adventures. Or, I should say, I tried to carry it over. Then everyone started raving about Battlestar Galactica, and I got contrary -- until I was forced to watch an episode, and lo, I was a born again fan. I was the Billy Graham of Battlestar Galactica, in my heart.
Rinse and repeat, and the same has happened for Stargate Atlantis, the new Hansel of fandom. (So hot right now!) My flist was filled with people saying "OMG RODNEY MCKAY" and "JOHN SHEPPARD YES" and I raised my nose.
"Not me," I said. "No, never. I've got this new FatF toy to play with, and it goes really fast."
Then, naturally, I read a few stories, developed a cringing affection for SGA fic, and it was my secret shame for all of five minutes before it was my public shame and I was demanding recs and fic like Audrey II demands blood in Little Shop of Horrors. And then, oh, and then I saw an episode.
And I fell, I really fell. But the problem is that Rodney McKay is really -- frighteningly like the ex I was in love with for a year after we broke up, and for who I guess I still carry a lonely lonesome torch and other assorted country song like things. And I love Rodney. I love Rodney too much. My love for Rodney McKay is too conflated with the lingering country song emotions I experience from time to time for The Ex for me to feel anything but creepy as I read the fic, watch the show, love the fandom despite myself.
I do it anyway, though. I mean, in a big way.
So, naturally, I thought the best way for me to deal with that was to post it to the internet. And then ask you all for recs to new SGA fic, or encourage you all to write, as I myself am broken and cannot get up to write again. Plus. MYLOVEISSOCONFLATED.