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how about EVERYTHING? I don't want you messing with how I use Gmail. it works fine the way it was. It looks fine the way it was. I don't want it to change. I don't want pictograms; I AM LITERATE. I don't want 50% grey text. I don't want pictograms; I AM LITERATE. I don't want stuff tucked away in dropdown menus where I have to hunt for it. did I mention that I hate the pictograms? It's because I'm literate. isn't that pesky?

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WHY IS IT THAT WHEN I TICKED OTHER I DIDN'T GET AN INPUT BOX SO I COULD WRITE IN TICKYBOX

WHY

I AM FROTHING WITH RAGE RIGHT NOW

But I feel like I can't, because

1. I'm not up to date on all the latest books. I haven't read a new book or even an up to the minute mass market paperback release book since 2007. I can't afford to buy books, new, used, or otherwise - and who wants to hear me talk about a book that's five years old or even older?

2. I do not attend conventions any more, and never will again, I think. My last convention was in 2007, and it ranks somewhere between "negative" and "deeply traumatizing." while it was happening I couldn't articulate why I was so incredibly uncomfortable - I do have some ideas on what part of it was, now. but it affected me so gravely and so deeply that I not only didn't attend world fantasy con when it was right here in calgary, with the registration I have bought and paid for years before, I didn't even bother to sell or give my membership away. I'm certainly *all kinds of uninterested* in going to my local con again.

3. I haven't seen all the latest fan relevant movies. I haven't been in a movie theater since - wait for it - 2007, for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I do not hold a video rental membership of any kind.

4. I never have been terribly attached to television. I don't *have* a television. My roommate owns one, and the only difference between the eight months he had it in his bedroom and the last couple of months that it's been downstairs is that I see him on my way into the kitchen, occasionally.

but even so, I don't turn to television for spec unless the circumstances are extraordinary. I've never seen a lot of the television people talk about. I have seen battlestar galactica, but I saw the end too late to actually talk about the end with anyone. but if I hadn't been basically forced to watch the initial pilot, I would have never watched the series on my own initiative.

(this isn't some nose in the air thing about media fandom, it's simply this: I can't just sit there and do nothing and direct all of my attention to watching the screen and listening to the voices. I get distracted, I tune out, I think about other things, I get up suddenly and walk away because I forget that I was supposed to be entertained by this. I completely suck at watching TV. if this sounds like ADD, well there's a reason for that. put utterly mindless knitting in my hands during a tv show or a movie and i'll stay put, and manage to maintain attention.)

5. I haven't written any fiction. not original fiction, and not fanfiction, since...

Yeah.

Do I even get to call myself a fan?

And all of this is a distraction from what I wanted to say.

I still think of myself as a fan, even though the only fannish activity that I do these days is read the meta of other fans, and read fics. and this year, I have tuned into the conversation, and the things I read there make me think thinky thoughts, and I sometimes wish I could talk about them... but I don't, because I don't have any credibility as a fan any more, because I don't participate and haven't participated for years.

but it's not just having to cut back on expenses that has caused this lack of participation. It's alienation, too.

you see, a couple years ago, I started getting the sneaking suspicion that I really didn't belong here, that I really wasn't wanted, and that my presence was messing up a really good thing.

How did it start? I don't know. but I think my first hint, my first clue, was the 2007 SFWA elections, where John Scalzi decided to run for president, and the slapfight commenced between different groups with different beliefs and approaches... the rebellious youth vs. the establishment, etc. etc.

I got involved in that, in a small way. and that involvement made it so very clear to me that SFWA couldn't support my interests as a writer because they did not, and did not want to understand me, and did not wish to support me unless I became like them, and adopted their ways - ways that I see as outmoded, outdated, and tired as hell.

The slapfight between the establishment and the upstarts was vigorous, but ultimately, the establishment won. and are still winning to this day. It became pretty clear that they didn't want me or people like me in their group.

that's not new. I remember being really interested in the SCA. I remember reading pamphlets and finding out that there was a regular fighter practice once a week here in town. I remember going. I remember watching. I remember being pointedly, roundly ignored.

and I didn't just go once. I went every week. For a month. And it wasn't like everyone there was a stranger. I recognized a lot of the people there from the local convention I attended every single year. and they didn't greet me. they didn't wave. They looked at me, though. When they thought I wasn't looking.

it became pretty clear that they didn't want me there, so I didn't go back.

What stands out for me, that last convention I attended in 2007?

They looked at me, when they thought I wasn't looking.

If I was alone, they'd look and not say a word. If I was with Someone (read, a Science Fiction Author or Some Editor or Another or in a Clump of Our People) the difference would be that I'd be stared at more openly, more quizzically, more confusedly, the question what's she doing here? scrolling across their faces in flashing LCD letters.

Without one of the abovementioned people obviously with me, I was no one. With one of them there to say, "It's ok, she's with me," I was a 17 letter word at 34 across in the sunday times with no letters filled in. I did not make any sense. I did not fit. I didn't belong.

I had a couple strangers open conversation with me, and chat most civilly while I was smoking outside. They were not attendees of the convention. and honestly, between being surreptitiously glanced at and being stared at like a zoo animal, it's no wonder that I said "fuck this noise" and hid in the hotel room. I came out to spend time with my friends who brought along safe people to be with, and I did my best to stay out of sight the rest of the time until it was *over.*

was it just that con? no. I'd actually been to one earlier in the year where the same thing happened - I was ignored and dismissed and covertly stared at, and then openly stared at when I was in the company of a small/med press publisher (who was in a *really* natty suit.) I've been at conventions in the past where I had been told that I didn't belong there, when it was evident that I was an attendee of the convention, since I was wearing a membership badge.

so tell me, folks: have I gafiated, or was I fafiated? (and did you just faint with shock because I know those terms?) How much of my feelings of alienation come as a surprise to you, and how much do you recognize/remember? how much of my experience do you want to vociferously deny? how much of it do you want to make excuses for?

or does it not matter since I haven't bought a book since '07 anyway?

so my computer will not boot up, the fuckedy thing.

It was asking me for my windows XP disk.

I fed it the damned thing.

it went into bootup loop. ARGH.

it says that ntfs.exe is either missing or corrupt. So whatinhell do i do now?

I'm thinking I have to format and reinstall. am I right?

but howinhell do I do that if it keeps on looping? do I have to pull the drive, put it in another computer, format it from there, put it back in, and then install?

I'm going to lose writing.

This stinks.

I wish my laptop wasn't broken too. I'd put linux on it, fart around, figure it out, and then wipe Microdorks from my life. Fuck you, windows. Just.... fuck you.

I suppose I could just format this and start from linux and flail around on that system until I figure it out. couldn't I? but the question is how do I format the drive if I can't get to a command prompt? Because I'm sorry to lose the use of Photoshop because that software was expensive but Windows XP was a dismal failure and I hate prolonging a relationship that makes me feel icky inside.

I know I have a bunch of obi-wan kenobis hanging around here. so I'll put my hair into a pair of braided buns and say help me you're my only hope aaaaaaaaaaaaa

when I get home I will download and burn a Linux disk and start from the very beginning, and figure out how to make words and play on the internet and chat on AIM and use Skype and get my webcam going and listen to MP3 - oh wait, is my collection now a bunch of attractive coasters if I make the switch? I mean they're just data disks, is there a problem?

i lost. my writing.

*kicks everything*