Jan. 11th, 2012 01:15 pm
noblescientist: (Sherlock Holmes)
Well, I'm back from that appointment with my counsellor.

Contrary to what seems to be my father's belief, she doesn't think I'm a sociopath. I didn't really either, but I think I wanted to believe it on some level because it might explain part of this incessant boredom.
She does seem to think it's likely that I have some sort of personality disorder, but not that one.

Speaking of which.
She agrees with both my assessment that it's not depression, and that it's connected to my lack of sleep.

This appointment didn't really help much, but I didn't really expect it to. Next one's a week from today, 10:45. Let's hope I've slept before that one, it's around the time I tend to crash if I haven't.
noblescientist: (fuck)
I think I've already mentioned my pervading boredom...

It's been a week and a half and nothing has seemed like more than a distraction to me.

This is what I get for taking a class that turned me into more of a keyboard snob than I already am. (My keyboard always sounded rather mediocre to me-- now that I've heard moderately good ones, and gotten used to playing on them, it just sounds bad.)
So now I can't turn to playing my keyboard, because it ends with me being more frustrated than before at how bad it is, on top of how bored I am.

I tried to get out a new game earlier-- that is, a game I bought a year or so ago and never got around to playing. Pulled out Gin, my PS2, who has been living in the cabinet under the telly, and tried to go for Final Fantasy XII, one of the only games that I can play for hours without getting frustrated at some point or another. Decided I didn't want to play that one, because as fun as it is, and as frustrating as it isn't, it's not new. I wanted new.
Pull out Final Fantasy X-2. I had been waiting to beat Final Fantasy X before I played X-2, and I tried to play some of X, but got bored with that after one encounter. (Doubt I'll be finishing it; Tidus annoys me and it has long since ceased to be challenging or interesting. I'll probably look up the last several cutscenes on-line.)
So out came X-2, the "new" one. Got in half an hour's worth of play time before having to give up the telly to the 'rents for a Hawaii Five-O rerun, but it gave me the chance to get used to the controls and everything.

And while I find myself wanting to pick it back up, it's more for distraction than because I found it enjoyable.

I like writing. I always enjoy writing. My writing has been the only thing keeping me from going stark-raving mad in the past several days.

And, oh, by the way, of the last ten days, I've missed two full nights of sleep, and several have been half-nights or poor sleep. This will make the third full night of no sleep since the new year, and we're ten days into 2012. WTF, brain.

I've also determined that how bored I am seems to relate to my sleeplessness-- notice I did not say insomnia; that's a different problem entirely, which I also have sometimes-- because the less focussed my head is, the more trouble I have making it all shut up. And then I can't sleep, or worse, I just don't get tired.

I've been partially occupying my boredom with Seth's tumblr. ([livejournal.com profile] makokitten's Sherlock. He's pretty brilliant at it.) It contains plenty of Sherlock gifs, which I've stolen, and lots of speculations and discussions and things which I find... distracting, for lack of a better term, and occasionally interesting.

Another thing I've been thinking a lot about-- because really, what haven't I been thinking a lot about?-- is my father's comment when I shared that lulzy quiz result. Or at least, I thought it was lulzy. "High-functioning sociopath."
He then told me, deadpan, that I have sociopathic tendencies. I laughed, which in retrospect, was probably not a very appropriate reaction.
And then I thought about how I led Mark on, basically for a free Sprite. A couple of years ago, acting like that would have horrified me. Now I don't care so much. In conjunction with the "sociopathic tendencies" comment, it kind of makes me wonder.
(And I also wonder if that wasn't his real reason for telling me to go see my counsellor. Because I honestly think he thinks I'm a sociopath-- which really probably shouldn't be funny, but for some reason it tickles me. I'll probably call tomorrow anyway; this lack of sleep thing isn't really healthy.)
noblescientist: (Methos)
I've been bored all week. Just bored. So yesterday I decided I'd go out to karaoke again, and completely over-dressed for it because I didn't have any clean jeans. (The dryer's busted.) I had on a Tripp halter corset from Caitlin-- it had been hers, but she seldom wore it-- and a denim skirt over my new boots-- photo on Facebook-- and nine bangles each wrist. Way over-dressed.
The girls I'd met the first time I went to Celtica were there again-- Amy, Shannon, and Rebecca, along with Shannon's beau, whose name, I believe, was Sean. I also met two lovely girls named Victoria (again, I think-- hard to hear in a populated karaoke bar) and Laura. (She stared at me all night. I'm not sure if she was just spacing or really staring, because I was trying not to unnerve her by staring back.) And Mark, who spent the night flirting with me.

I sang "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele, then sang "Last Friday Night" by Katy Perry and "Love Shack" by the B52s with the girls. (Various stares and attempts at flirting were ignored, except one exceptionally persistent and somewhat polite one-- being Mark-- whom I allowed to buy me a Sprite. I should probably have felt bad; I realised at the end of the night that I'd sort of been leading him on.)

And then something odd happened. I was leaning up against the table our crew had usurped, my back to the bar, and I felt somebody's hands on my sides. I thought it was Shannon-- the only girl in our crew I couldn't see in my periphery-- and after starting a bit from the contact, turned around. It was a woman I'd never seen before in my life-- very tall, strawberry blonde, with a fairly attractive face and light eyes.
"I really like this-- sorry, don't worry, I'm not a lesbian!" (Here she removed her hands like I'd been angry, which I wasn't-- just a little bit alarmed. I wondered if she was drunk.)
And then she seemed to see my face. "Oh my god, you're so beautiful! Are you single?"
"Erm, yes?" She told me again that I was beautiful before walking away, and I thought maybe that was the end of it.

And then she dragged over a friend of hers. "Isn't she beautiful?"
I decided she was completely plastered.
"Yes, absolutely," her friend agreed. "Sorry, I'm Diego."
"I'm Eva, hi."
We shook hands and he sort of led the woman off-- only for her to return again!
"So how about a kind of short guy-- not all that attractive-- but he makes a lot of money!"
I basically told her that so long as he wasn't expecting much, sure! I'm asexual. She walked away again, and I think she was trying to convince another guy to come see me, but failed. The next time she walked over, she assured me "we'll find you a boyfriend," as if being single was some sort of travesty. I just told her I was singing next ("Oh my god, shut up!") and went up to sing "Lithium" by Evanescence-- and rather more successfully than I would have expected, considering I'm getting over a cold-- and gained some groupies, I think. More flirting ensued, and Mark redoubled his efforts. I made no promises. *shrug*

The flirting, I'm used to; the staring, I'm used to; the brushing-by-entirely-too-close-for-comfort, I'm unfortunately also used to-- which does not mean I wasn't ticked--; being flirted with by a woman for her male friends? Not used to that. It was amusing.
noblescientist: (BBC Sherlock)
Well, my multiple trains of thought (I really need to find a better phrasing for that) are hindering my ability to read a particularly interesting fanfiction at the moment. And there is radio silence on both Facebook and Twitter, as well as Skype (because I seldom initiate Skype conversations), and it's far too late-- early?-- to be texting someone. Particularly the person I would most like to be texting, because this person values their sleep.

So I'll jump into that analysis I mentioned earlier. This is NOT an analysis of Sherlock Holmes in general; I'm focussing on some traits of specifically the BBC's Sherlock.
First of all, several people on the communities I watch-- friends' tumblrs, mostly-- have dismissed Sherlock's claim of being "a high-functioning sociopath" because he cares for John. Because of the obvious depth of that care, I made the mistake of making a similar comment myself before realising how stupid and contradictory I sounded.
Guess what, people? In that respect, sociopathy means absolutely nada. In fact, it actually explains some things.
First of all, sociopaths have the capacity to care. They will often become close to a small group of people with whom they can somewhat identify (and, more importantly, who can put up with them). With regards to these people, they will have a certain degree of empathy, and if they do something that upsets these people, they are likely to feel remorse. This is not true of psychopaths, who basically feel no emotion, but may fake them.
Second of all, some have pointed out Sherlock's apparent disinterest in any sort of sexual endeavours as odd, and then cited their disbelief of his claimed sociopathy. In reality, sociopathy could possibly explain part of that; some medical professionals believe that sociopathy is a subdivision of antisocial personality disorder, one of the traits of which can sometimes be a reduced sex drive. (Or, evidently, an unusually high one. Confusing, that.)

And about eighty per cent of the fandom seems to be debating the poor man's sexuality, something he probably wouldn't care to even define. While I'm analysing, though, I figure I may as well touch on the point; I'm interested in the subject, so why not?
One thing that is abundantly obvious after A Scandal in Belgravia-- dammit, almost typed Bohemia because of the original, lol-- is that he's a masochist. The look on his face when Irene Adler offers to "try" to "cut [herself] slapping that face" is rather telling, as is his reaction when she ends up beating her phone out of his grip. Trust me, I recognise reactions like those; I'm a masochist myself.
Now here's where it gets fuzzy. A marked disinterest in anything sexual-- excluding, of course, getting smacked around by Irene Adler, as it was not quite voluntary-- could mean that he's asexual. His reactions to Adler somewhat support this; he was busy checking her pulse in their most "intimate" scene, which led to later deductions. However, because he not only allowed her proximity, but repeated it when explaining his deduction, the line begins to blur. He may have been doing this to prove a point; he may have been doing it because she's attractive to him. (Her nudity certainly distracted him somewhat, and he was a bit eager to please her.) So, not likely to be completely asexual. Perhaps a repressed form of some other sexuality (likely demisexual), though which one is difficult to say for certain; there are many subdivisions, and not much to go on because he is repressed. One has to look closely for much of any hint in that direction, and most fans are squinting to see what they want. (I think it was deliberately left ambiguous.)

There, I've given it as much thought as I believe is due. Now for something that amuses me endlessly:
You are a high functioning sociopath
This was a result I just got from an on-line quiz. Just for kicks and giggles, I assure you; while researching to try to affirm this entry, I ran across the quiz, and it was short. I've been called a psychopath in the past, as well as a sociopath once or twice by my more educated enemies (normal people don't have enemies *cough misquote cough*), and then I end up designated as precisely what Sherlock calls himself. I had been trying to avoid comparing myself to him, but I think I'm over it. It's just funny now, and a bit uncanny in some ways.


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