#WoTme

Some days when I describe what The Wheel of Time has meant to my life it’s difficult to portray the depth to those who aren’t invested in the series, or who haven't experienced a fandom community share itself and its love.

My first experience of OMG-these-people-are-awesome-and-they-get-me-and-are-oh-so-generous-with-their-thoughts-and-time was back when I stumbled upon Leigh Butler’s WoT Reread on Tor.com.

My second experience of the same was my first JordanCon, where I discovered the extended family I didn’t know I had.

My third experience of the overwhelming connectedness and all around fuzzy goodness this fandom brings happened today.

I logged onto Facebook this morning to see a Wheel of Time fan group was in the midst of playing what at first appeared to be a generic casting game. Fans were posting selfies for other group members to decide which WoT character that selfie resembled.

It came with the hashtag #WoTme.

And a backstory.

Apparently, while I slept some drama had rumbled through this group. It's a sizeable group (over 5000 members), and one that ranges in age, geography, cultural background, and any other variant you can think of—including stages of (re)reading the book series.

Usually drama unfolding in this group involves someone slipping a spoiler onto the main page without a warning as to that spoiler’s presence.

Friday morning (Thursday evening?), the drama began from a selfie...

Yes, an innocent selfie.

Someone posted a selfie and asked the group to identify a corresponding character.

Someone else decided to bully that original poster.

I didn't see the offending exchange, because admins came to the rescue and rid the group of the offender—they’re particularly awesome admins who act fast and have a zero-bullying-tolerance (as they should!).

Usually that’d be the end of an issue and we'd all move on. Right?

Not today. No, this particular day magic happened...

Someone else posted a selfie, and asked the group at large to pick a corresponding character, in solidarity of the bullied selfie-poster and as a stand against bullying everywhere.

And then there was another selfie posted.

And another.

It kept going.

People were commenting on others’ pictures. Responding kindly, sillily, remarkably, and en force. It would appear I woke up right when the group was getting into the swing of the fun, and as the day rolled on, it only gained speed. Hundreds—possibly upward of a thousand—selfies have been posted.

(And it's still going on as I write this.)

It's astounding.

My newsfeed was flooded with selfies and the hashtag #WoTme, and The Wheel of Time community reminded me yet again why it is so incredible...

It is kind.

It is welcoming. (It's damn attractive, too.)

And best yet: it’s a community in every sense of the word, regardless of the majority of it existing in cyberspace.

It’s heartening.

When you’re a fan of The Wheel of Time you’re part of a giant family, and you many not have met them all, and you may never will, but like a family we’ve got each others’ backs.

So I’m posting here in solidarity against bullying.

#WoTme

The Year In Review: The Shit I Didn't Mention

All right, you caught me. The blogginess... it hasn't happened so much in 2014. But that's okay—that's the way a self-run show works. When you're the boss you get to call the shots, and this year I needed a wee break.

That said, I figured we'd do a Year In Review post. Which would make more sense if I'd actually had blogged more this year, yes, and since that's the case, I figured I'd write a Year In Review post regarding all the things I didn't blog about.

(Yes. Go ahead, read it again. It's weird. Welcome to the program, and buckle your seat belts.)

Forging ahead, here we go...

The 2014 Year In Review: The Shit I Didn't Mention

13. For some reason this year I have dropped a record number of items in the toilet. (Thankfully no electronics, and mostly sweater sleeves.) I have no excuse. I can't remember ever having dropped anything in the toilet before 2014... it's ludicrous.

12. I keep taking photos of our cat, Minette, curled up on our duvet like the squirrelish princess she is, but keep forgetting to post them with the caption that it's her favourite bedding. Every time I wonder if this will be the most recent photo of her before she dies, and thus attempt the best lighting and angle possible for our snarky girl. Every time she realizes what I'm up to and gives me the stink eye before I nail the perfect shot. It's like she's reading my mind and doesn't want a flattering photo on her casket (Bitch. No one makes caskets for cats anyway, never mind, Google says yes, someone does—but it's not like we'd be buying her one. Pfft).

11. Mr Lannis and I began watching Doctor Who and made it through whatever numbered Doctor it was when the series rebooted in 2005, but when the shift came to the next Doctor we fizzled out and forgot about it (until now). Worst. Geeks. Ever.*

10. Over the last twelve months we have bought 30 fish for our aquarium, 3 cherry shrimp, and 3 African Dwarf Freaks Frogs.

9. The frogs all died. All of them. Within two months. (I'm borderline OCD. I track this shit like you wouldn't believe.)

8. So did the fish. There are currently two fish in our tank. Their names? Fat Guy and Jeff. Everyone else checked out via the porcelain bowl (or were MIA because their tank mates ate them. Fat Guy's an ginormous a-hole, hence he's still king of the mountain. Jeff, well, he's one algae eater who knows how to hide).**

7. The shrimp up and vanished completely. (I had one nightmare of rediscovering them living in our houseplants, grown large as that asshole Hamster before he died—rest in peace, jerkface. My mind... she can be a creepy place.)

6. I know far too much about the Jian Ghomeshi scandal. Was glued to it at one point. I may or may not have a secret Pinterest board devoted to blog posts and news articles relating to this garbage excuse for a human. Crossing my fingers the floodgates for dialogue have opened for abuse victims, as that's the only true silver lining I see emerging from this situation.

5. Lighter note: I have a Cards Against Humanity card with my name on it. Actually two. This makes me inordinately happy. Also? Twisted. (No surprise there.)

4. Another happy thought: I have tallied and written my clients' receipts for 2014 and am eager to begin my income tax return (Sandi, look what you have done to me!)

3. I permed my hair a while back, in September, in October (when the first one didn't take in my uber-straight hair). It only reminded me that I'm a low-maintenance girl, and now I wear it braided or in a ponytail, and, if you know me, means I spent an awful lot of money on a frizzy ponytail instead of my usual sleek one. Yippee! (Secret: I still like it better. Now it's interesting.)

2. Started going to a chiropractor in August. I have miraculously only had one migraine aura since August(!). Like, for reals, yo—this is HUGE.

But doesn't quite have the wow factor of:

1. That time I won a "neck massager" off a blog and almost blogged about it—because: fuck yeah, I won a contest! and what kind of a prize is a sex toy? weirdest contest ever—but then decided it was TMI and kept my mouth shut until I clearly had low impulse control while writing this post and blaaaaarrrgggg: now you all know. You're welcome.***


* ETA: Did some digging, discovered we jumped in on the ninth Doctor, and left off at the beginning of the tenth Doctor. See? Geek cred partially restored. A touch. Okay, maybe we have some work to do...

** Fuck it. Wrote this post, and by the time it published we'd lost Fat Guy to, uh, whatever, and I pawned off sent Jeff to go live in our friend's fish tank (seriously: as in, that's not a euphemism for being flushed. He is actually making new goldfishy friends).

*** Pfft... relax. It's not like I use it. It's not even quality.

Unorthodox Requests

So then out of nowhere I ask my then-almost-nine-year-old what he wants for Christmas and he replies, in all seriousness, that he wants a doll that resembles himself with clothes that resemble his own clothing...

What the nugget?!

I suppose this is what I get for not having cable or satellite, yes? (My children have not seen commercials in a loooong time. They also despise shopping. They have no concept of what toys are currently on the market.)

Hooookay, well. The first feat was to shift this request as naturally as possible from the realm of the Santa list to the general gift idea list, since—let's all nod in appreciative understanding here—said doll was going to be wearing remnant clothes of boys (yes, plural), and clearly would not be a product of Santa's workshop.

Oy.

And then I was struck by the, er, voodoo-iness of the entire matter...

Is it bizarre that my nine year old wants a doll that looks like him? Upon reflection, he's only ever had my old Cabbage Patch Dolls to play with (he found them uninteresting). I suppose it's kind of neat to have a mini-me with clothes to dress it... especially if made by mom's hand, right?

Anyhow, with that out of the way, I got to work on creating rag doll boys and harvesting what I could from the ratty tatty not-good-enough-to-join-the-hand-me-down-network bag of clothes my packrattiness stubbornly refuses to let me discard outright.

(Yes, a wee voice in my brain is telling me this is the reason I held on to them in the first place. Going forward it is clear my ability to discard anything in this house is about to take a hit.)

And yet...

BEHOLD!

Scary shit, right?

Yes, I'm inordinately proud of these. I ordered the glasses for the oldest's doll on eBay, and picked up the fake fur for hair at a fabric store, but everything else used was leftover from previous projects.

And old clothes. Plenty of old clothes were ravaged in the name of cuff material alone.

Including pajamas, underpants, and socks. Because dolls need wardrobes, too, yo.

Not pictured: the teeny leather backpacks to house all those clothes. (I may have gotten out of control...)

Merry Christmas!