Envy and Admiration

After I got home from work, I found myself in an unusual state of restlessness. Before I realized I was doing it, my room was being tidied up; random sticky notes filled with inane scribbles, empty junk food wrappers and other clutter were removed from my desk, much to its relief I'm sure.

"Thanks, bro."

 It wasn't until I found myself carrying a pile of dirty laundry to the washing machine that I discovered the reasoning behind this strange compulsion to not have my room look like the money shot scene from a Michael Bay flick.

The only time I get the urge to clean and tidy is when I want to write. Because as any writer knows, the best way to avoid doing the deed is by doing everything else that needs to be done. Right now.

Last night was the Oscars. I hear it was entertaining, and a bunch of stuff won awards, while even more stuff lost. I say "hear" because I didn't watch the Oscars; I barely paid the excited gibbering of my coworkers any attention as they compared opinions about this movie or that film, which actor should have won, which director did win, and all the rest.

The reason for my inattention is due to my keen interest in such events.

"Holy contradiction, Batman!"

Clarification is probably in order.

If it wasn't blindingly apparent by now, I am a huge nerd; I love anime, video games, books, comics, cosplay, films, and theatre. All of these things make me happy. And yet, when it comes to events like the Oscars, I can't bring myself to watch.

And the reason for that is I am an envious little snot.

Under the vast geek umbrella in which I take shelter from the cold, banal humdrum work week, there are folks for whom I have a great deal of admiration and respect; cosplayers such as Jessica Nigri, Yaya Han, and Ivy Doomkitty get to make fantastic costumes from scratch and obtain the adoration of nerds everywhere. Writers share that same adoration; from Stephen King and Jim Butcher to Neil Gaiman, Sylvia Plath, and William Shakespeare, these are people who have mastered their craft, brought exciting and entertaining works of writing to the minds of millions.

Look at this smug bastard.

It is much the same with movie stars and any successful actor. I find myself experiencing a confusing mix of admiration and envy. When there is something that I want and feel I can never have/attain/achieve, I ignore it. Much in the same way I avoid writing by sudden bouts of organizing.

For instance, I am a big fan of the ABC show Castle; the stories are great and the acting is spot on; the chemistry between Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic is obvious and can be felt through the television screen. That being said, I have avoided watching the last few seasons for one specific reason: watching a show about a famous novelist having adventures and getting the beautiful girl makes me want to write.

And since I'm convinced that I'm a terrible writer and will never achieve anything resembling success, I'm filled with that envy I mentioned before.

That's right. I feel envy for a fictional character. There isn't an adequate word to describe how sad that is. Even worse, I also feel envious of the actor playing said successful mystery writer.

"Sucks to be you."

Thus I can't bring myself to pay too much attention to the Oscars. Watching a large auditorium of A Listers receiving awards for being awesome would likely cause me to literally turn greener than an Orion slave girl.

I often joke with a friend of mine that I hate the successful in this world. Alas, it isn't a complete jest, much to my shame. Actors, singers, dancers, youtubers who reach a million likes. You name it, it makes me a wee bit green.

Phew! Now that I've gotten that off of my chest, I feel...about the same. Drat and curses.