Am I the only one who has just discovered the crazy crazy world of fanfiction? Because after spending a week and a half watching all available episodes of Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, I decided to google Miss FIsher’s Murder Mysteries, you know, to find quotes or pictures or at the very least, any news about when Season 3 would be available (turns out no decision has been made yet…*be calm my quivering heart*) and I discovered the world of fanfiction. I mean, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries are based on real books written by a real author (I know because I googled that and I actually bought 4 of those books) which are slightly different from the TV show and there are these fans who write fiction based on the TV show. Some of it is pretty good (even with the mistakes…but that’s understandable when there’s no editor looking at every single word, every comma or full stop) and some of it is well, a little pornographic (also I learnt a new word…smut…) but surprisingly enough, I wasn’t as embarrassed as I was two years ago. Its just words. Apparently, people actually publish real books based on how popular their fanfiction is. But is it fair to the original creators? I mean, a lot of young adult fiction (especially the ones that are serialized) are written by many different authors (even though sometimes the same author gets credit for it) based on characters that were created by one person. But at least, they get paid for it. When these fanfiction authors get picked up for a book deal, original author be dammed. So where is the copyright or protection in this case?
Apparently, my life is defined by television shows. It reads like a rather pathetic sentence. And truthfully, its worse if you are actually living it. But one can’t always hide from the truth, can I? First, there was Felicity, and that show started right before I started university in America and ended when I was midway through it. And then there was Gilmore Girls, and Sex in the City and Friends and that was a time in my life when I was (I thought) living an independent life with fabulous independent but also slightly clueless friends in my early 20s. How I Met Your Mother started as I was starting medical school and I had just broken up with who I thought was The One and I thought that looking for The One was important. And when I started residency, Doctor Who was given a new lease of life and I was at a stage of my life when I was looking for an escape. And now, just as I’ve wound down my life in the US, HIMYM has ended. I liked the ending, sort of. I really did wish that Ted and the Mother would grow old together but I suppose the ending that they gave us wasn’t all that unexpected. A bit of a coup out, in much the same way that Friends was a coup out…but it worked.
It is hot. Not Justin-Timberlake-hot, but sweaty-disgusting-melting-sticky hot. And because electricity is expensive and also because you use up a lot of water to cool down an air-conditioner, and also because the heat generated to cool down a room by an air conditioner contributes to global warming, the air conditioner is not being switched on in our two bedroom condominium. All so that my nephew can have a future on Earth. We hope. But in the meantime, he’s in London, running around in his adorable parka or whatever it is that his two-almost-three-year-old brain decides is appropriate. In exchange, his unemployed auntie is experiencing early menopausal symptoms both internally and externally. Good lord. I wish I’m 3 again or whatever age it is that is considered acceptable to be running around in diapers in what is essentially a shower outdoors in the guise of fun. Because I’m hot. In the overweight, definitely not attractive kind of hot. I’ve stuck my head in the freezer more than once in an attempt to cool down. And I’m this close to trying out frozen underwear except that our freezer has discounted fish fillet and well, its kind of gross to put your underwear in the freezer especially if its a family freezer. Although, if I’m living alone, I probably would have tried it already. Because, well, let’s be honest, its my own grossness, I can live with it. I can’t possibly make others live with my grossness too, right?
I have decided that yearly resolutions are useless. I mean, 365 days is a relatively long period of time.I mean, look at how many resolutions (all of them!) I’ve already broken. So I think what I’m going to do is perhaps make monthly resolutions…and see if I can keep them for that month. So, for the next month, I’m going to resolve not to buy any clothes, or accessories. Obviously, my last resolution not to buy any more new clothes obviously did not last more than 2 weeks. But I’m going to try again. Obviously, resolutions are made because we want to improve ourselves. Well, I know that having too many possessions is bad (I’m really trying to reduce my carbon footprint! I swear!) but saying that I’m never ever going to buy anything again is just plain foolish. So, instead, I’m going to keep my goals focused. I’m just going to resolve not to buy any new clothes for the next month. And well…hopefully I can keep it! Wish me luck!!!