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Thursday, May 18th, 2006 10:58 pm
so one of those days
There was this panic thing today, where I valiantly attempted to not break into hysterics when my mother casually mentioned my uncle and aunt asked about my fanfiction.
I have mentioned Uncle and Aunt in relation to the Thing With the Conversation About Sex Around Christmas While Sister Drove Us To Pick Up a Piano. Yes. Those nice, suburban, really ultra normal relatives.
The thing that kind of terrifes me is twofold. One--oh my God, how the fuck did he find out? How did *they* find out? Like, outside the people in my very immediate family, I do not talk about this. It's the thing I barely discuss with my mother. Because I am scared to death that my mother will question me on how I learned to write gay sex. I just--no. I will never be old enough, mature enough, insane enough to discuss any sort of fictional sex with my mother. We are just not going there.
Huh. I just had a traumatic moment. Hold on.
Anyway, apparently, to just complete this collapse is that my uncle--my nice, recovering-from-cancer, really-nice-with-great-sense-of-humor uncle is--he is Wandering the Net. Somewhere. He is reading fic. He is reading fic and is interested in it. Apparently, he is reading enough to ask my mother for my pseudonym. He possibly--I can't even begin to express my pure, unmitigated horror--is reading in at least one of my old fandoms. If he hits the wrong page, he won't need my psuedonym. The older archives in a few still use my full name.
Wait. What if he falls over some hentai? I mean, not that I wrote any, but it's like, out there, and that's not what you want your uncle to click on when he's looking for like, Star Trek gen or something, you know?
Oh my God. *blinks slowly* I am torn between denying I exist--which will make Christmas interesting--and sending desperate emails to steer him away from anything that will end with him at the next Christmas dinner saying "So, Jenn, you had Superman in bondage gear, huh?"
And I will cry a lot. I mean, after I run screaming. Or have a total collapse of some kind.
...how the hell did he find out? That? Is not something that comes up in casual conversation. Or you know, in any conversation ever.
Okay, done with that.
Day Two Without Madelyn
She forbade flame wars until she got back--and by the way, all fandoms she watches and reads? Those orders are for you, too, so keep zen until she gets back--and it's not like I'm Miss Controversial Subject anyway, though I feel this really weird desire to do a Compare and Contrast--Why Some People Should Be Forbidden Access to John Without a License and Oh My God He Is a Soldier Not a Five Year Old Girl Stop That Crying For His Deep Emotional Pain Shit Already And Give Him Back His Balls--but that would be wrong. I mean, not the sentiment, but you know, being mean. And because I took recs without vetting them first and sometimes, morbid fascination can really screw you up.
Did a complete read of Pru's Visiting Hours and Conflict of Interests here, which was interestingly fun. Mostly because I said for years and years and years or you know, months, that I would read it over my own dead body, because she makes awesome furious noises and possibly blocked me on AIM, so there was that furtive thing going on. I mean, on one hand? I am ashamed I broke. On the other, they kick so much serious ass. Smallville fic, God do I miss you sometimes. No fandom gave me epic passionate terrifying scary unhealthy love like that. Love that could end in puppies, babies, or the destruction of the world on any given day.
Oh yeah. *sighs* It's like worm porn, really.
Hmm. Anyone read anything intersting?
I have mentioned Uncle and Aunt in relation to the Thing With the Conversation About Sex Around Christmas While Sister Drove Us To Pick Up a Piano. Yes. Those nice, suburban, really ultra normal relatives.
The thing that kind of terrifes me is twofold. One--oh my God, how the fuck did he find out? How did *they* find out? Like, outside the people in my very immediate family, I do not talk about this. It's the thing I barely discuss with my mother. Because I am scared to death that my mother will question me on how I learned to write gay sex. I just--no. I will never be old enough, mature enough, insane enough to discuss any sort of fictional sex with my mother. We are just not going there.
Huh. I just had a traumatic moment. Hold on.
Anyway, apparently, to just complete this collapse is that my uncle--my nice, recovering-from-cancer, really-nice-with-great-sense-of-humor uncle is--he is Wandering the Net. Somewhere. He is reading fic. He is reading fic and is interested in it. Apparently, he is reading enough to ask my mother for my pseudonym. He possibly--I can't even begin to express my pure, unmitigated horror--is reading in at least one of my old fandoms. If he hits the wrong page, he won't need my psuedonym. The older archives in a few still use my full name.
Wait. What if he falls over some hentai? I mean, not that I wrote any, but it's like, out there, and that's not what you want your uncle to click on when he's looking for like, Star Trek gen or something, you know?
Oh my God. *blinks slowly* I am torn between denying I exist--which will make Christmas interesting--and sending desperate emails to steer him away from anything that will end with him at the next Christmas dinner saying "So, Jenn, you had Superman in bondage gear, huh?"
And I will cry a lot. I mean, after I run screaming. Or have a total collapse of some kind.
...how the hell did he find out? That? Is not something that comes up in casual conversation. Or you know, in any conversation ever.
Okay, done with that.
Day Two Without Madelyn
She forbade flame wars until she got back--and by the way, all fandoms she watches and reads? Those orders are for you, too, so keep zen until she gets back--and it's not like I'm Miss Controversial Subject anyway, though I feel this really weird desire to do a Compare and Contrast--Why Some People Should Be Forbidden Access to John Without a License and Oh My God He Is a Soldier Not a Five Year Old Girl Stop That Crying For His Deep Emotional Pain Shit Already And Give Him Back His Balls--but that would be wrong. I mean, not the sentiment, but you know, being mean. And because I took recs without vetting them first and sometimes, morbid fascination can really screw you up.
Did a complete read of Pru's Visiting Hours and Conflict of Interests here, which was interestingly fun. Mostly because I said for years and years and years or you know, months, that I would read it over my own dead body, because she makes awesome furious noises and possibly blocked me on AIM, so there was that furtive thing going on. I mean, on one hand? I am ashamed I broke. On the other, they kick so much serious ass. Smallville fic, God do I miss you sometimes. No fandom gave me epic passionate terrifying scary unhealthy love like that. Love that could end in puppies, babies, or the destruction of the world on any given day.
Oh yeah. *sighs* It's like worm porn, really.
Hmm. Anyone read anything intersting?
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no subject
From:On the one hand- oh my god, I feel your pain; I suspect that my dad has found some of my NC-17 femmeslash fic before, and that is something I just do not want to think about. But on the other hand- I have an essay due in ten hours, I haven't slept, and cracking up laughing reading this post did wonders to improve my mood. :D
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