June 21, 2010
Well, I’ve pondered the weekend activities, which consisted of reading some non-graphic real fic about Richard Armitage, and have decided that yes, I am a bit uncomfortable with examining Richard Armitage quite so much when it’s not obviously humorous hence my post of yesterday. I guess that’s the reason I put up that post. Whether any of you were uncomfortable with the real fic, I was. I would hate it if someone examined me that closely, and sadly, some people have tried. But I will not be examined like that unless I deign to drop my proverbial pants and bend over, which I probably am not going to do in this lifetime. And I’m not sure Rich’s real pants dropping qualifies as an invitation to exam him with such scrutiny, and even if I could rationalize that it does, I don’t want to take him up on it. Sometimes people think they want to almost completely expose themselves in the quest to be understood, but really, that’s not the best way, so I won’t be going down that path in trying to understand Richard Armitage, or candidly, I’ll try not to go there.
Oh, hey, I’ve probably had all kinds of thoughts about him like I read this weekend and more besides, but I’m not so sure I want to go there so deeply with this blog. Go there? Yes, I will go there, but not smacking quite so much of reality. This is supposed to be fluff with only a little serious thrown in. I keep telling myself it’s only fluff with a little serious thrown in. Check. I think I’ve got it.
So I might touch on some serious things here, but I spend plenty of time examining serious things to the nth degree in my real life (I don’t like that term “real life” because I consider messing about on the internet as part of my real life. I haven’t quite compartmentalized it to the point I can call it an alternate reality, not seriously anyway. I’ve got to change “real life” to something else; hmmm. “offline life”? no, that sounds dead, and that life is teeming with so many wonderful and yes, sometimes terrible things that would never allow it to be called dead. I will have to think about a good term since I just don’t have one this morning. My clever machine is on the fritz right now. I’ve been reading too much German, which is quite a feat since I don’t really understand much of it. Is there any wonder why my brain is fried? And isn’t this a helluva parenthetical statement? I’ve just placed it here to see how long I could make it. Of course I’m doing it for that reason), I don’t need to do that here. Having given you this sort of diatribe, I’d like to go back to my insane self even though it’s not an alternate reality. I really am partially insane in my “real life.” Besides, the insane me is much more fun. Trust me it’s more fun.
Before I get off of this, I have to say: People, you are nosey! I put up an article about RA, in the comments section no less, and my hit count goes nuts. Yes, I know it’s due to the article. I can see what you’re doing. MUHAHAHAHA. No, I can’t see that much of what you’re doing only some keys you might hit. Yes, I’m nosey too — mostly about this RA thing — and it’s such a puzzle to me. I ask myself why a lot, and I have no good answer except that shallowly, yes, I’m shallow, very shallow at times I’m afraid, I like looking at those pictures of RA in his articles, and like the rest of the drooling masses who hang on his words, I want to hear what he thinks.
This is what confounds me, and yes, it’s one of the big reasons I’m anonymous. It’s embarrassing for someone as circumspect as I am. I’m dripping with circumspection, and for most of my life, I haven’t given a rat’s ass about what a celebrity/actor thought. Not even John Lennon. Well maybe a little and maybe I did care a little about what Kurt Cobain thought and sometimes what Daniel Day-Lewis thought and yes, a little bit of Kevin Spacey. But with John Lennon I heard so much about what he thought that I didn’t have a chance to get curious. Oh, well, I’ll never know now, and truthfully, although I love biographies and absolutely love to hear what people think and why, I guess I’ve consigned most (not all but most) actors to the stupid file so they rarely merit much attention beyond their performances. I have done this because most of the time they say stupid things to the public, and no, I don’t think RA is stupid. For cryin’ out loud, isn’t it apparent from this blog that I don’t think that? If not, then I really am a horrible writer.
Certainly, I am curious about what he is going to do next in terms of roles and even more what makes him choose those roles. See I can’t help it. He really does fascinate me and especially his chameleon quality. He’s kind of a male Meryl Streep only better looking and certainly sexier because I have never been attracted to Meryl Streep. Oh, I love her as an actress and think she is the best female actor (no question in my mind about that!), but she’s not my type.
After successively posting two pieces alternating between bravado and self-consciousness (on several levels), I need a damn good picture, but I’m not sure which one would be better than in yesterday’s post or even equal it. That is still my favorite RA picture. PHWOAR! Can any top it?
Need to get back to my Diary because I really do think it will help me figure out what the hell has happened to me, and no, I don’t consider it dropping my pants. Hey, my fascination with Richard Armitage is just a small portion of my messed up thinking.
Did I just admit it’s messed up thinking to be this fascinated with a celebrity? ;-)