I am Violet

It's incredible ... *ahem* ... what computers and surveys tell you ... me, I mean.

I watched the Incredibles while I was 'sitting my nieces one day, burning the carrot bread in the oven (oh, well), and I was like, 'Wouldn't it be neat to have a superpower! I wonder what my power would be?'

No capes.

This survey told me exactly what power I would have. It even told me my name and my ... charming personality ... 'quirks.' To the letter:

Perhaps a bit under-confident, and you just want to fit in and not be different. But you may wish to be different, and confident, and all you need is a push in the right direction

And 'Violet' is described as:

At the beginning of the movie, Violet is shy; she doesn't want to be noticed and it shows by the way her hair covers her face and she always looks down and speaks in a low, quiet voice. Violet lacks self confidence.

Joy. They pegged my superpower: I disappear. Whenever I feel cornered, I run away. I'm a very good vanisher. And they got the hair right, too.

Did I choose my name, like I think I did ... or did my name choose me?

Your Sh!t

Do you know what I can't stand?

What can't you stand, 'phfina? We're just dying to know!

Thank you. What I can't stand is when somebody talks shit about me behind my back. You know what I can't stand more? When somebody talks shit about somebody else to me.

So, a few promises. You do that, and you're banned. Do you know who talks sh!t about other people? Shitty people, and I don't want your sh!t on me, thank you.

How you get unbanned? When the person you talked sh!t about PMs me telling me you fessed up, apologized, and have received their forgiveness.

That's right: that b!tch you hate? She's the one who will get you unbanned.

My other promise. I will not talk sh!t about you.

I had that fucking happen to me in high school, and it nearly killed me. That's right: cold, dead 'phfina. No 'phfina stories for you to read 'cause she slit down, not across in high school when the heat got too hot in the kitchen, so this little girl almost checked out. And, oh, not merely once, m'dears.

Don't you fucking talk shit about people to me!

Because those 'people' are people, God damn it! And they're in the same shit you are in and I am in, and yes, genius, it's their own God damn fault because they are such c.v.n.t.s. so they brought their own shit down on themselves but guess what, sister, look in the fucking mirror!

I do. Every day.

So yes, they got it coming to them. They deserve it. But I tell you what. I will take a fucking bullet for them because they deserve a chance to try to just try to just make it, and maybe smile today, and okay, so they were really mean, nasty, whatever, sure. So you're a fucking angel?

No. You talk shit about somebody else, then, sweetheart, you're the bitch. Not her. You.

And so my third promise. Catch me. And call me on it. If I talk sh!t to you about somebody, quote this entry to me. Make me eat my words, and then call me every fucking name in the book, and then tell me to get right with that person. This is my third promise: Dare I ever lapse on this and talk shit about somebody, I promise that when you call me, I had better be a god damn good little girl and take my lashings and make it right with that person. I promise.

I solemnly swear.

Guys and girls, come on! It's fucking hard enough already as it is, isn't it? Please don't make it harder for somebody who's got it hard already. PLEASE!

I'm on a tear here

You know what I love about judgmental people, says 'phfina the judgmental person: there is just no slowing them down or stopping them. They know what they know, because they know it. Sophists.

You know who judgmental people hurt? I sure do! They hurt every single person they come into contact with. You know why? Because they don't treat people as people. No, they treat them as: 'what's wrong with you' and 'this is why I hate you' without even giving the other person the benefit of a doubt.

That other person over there? She's me. That's what I try to think: she's me, where I was sitting, or where I will be sitting.
So I give her a chance when I have heart that's beating. After all, that's why I have a heart, right?

À propos de rein, that Samantha ... she sure is an annoying little fvck, isn't she?

Why is Bella such a ... kitty?

So I received a review of chapter 4 of my story Monsters. The review asked where Bella's backbone had gone.

That's a good question, if you look at it from Rosalie's perspective, as this is the perspective from which the story is told.

It's a good question that perhaps most of fandom asks. Why is Bella such a pussy/wuss/disgrace to feminism? Yeah, why!

Okay, the thing about Bella. Well, you have to be careful about the perspective in the story. This is a first person point-of-view story from Rosalie's perspective, so we see Bella as Rosalie sees Bella, as this weak little indecisive girl, right?

But what is actually going on in this chapter? Bella stood up for what she wanted to do, against Rosalie, and what happened? Rosalie backed down. Not Bella. So why isn't the question 'why is Rosalie so weak?' instead?

It's because of the perspective.

If you look at what Bella says and what Bella does, not what Rosalie is thinking about all this, do you see that the behaviors Bella is exhibiting are consistent with the Twilight books?

I think my writing is doing something that most readers don't expect: I honor the characters. Bella is like Bella is, but instead of making her OOC ("Out Of Character"), I honor her for what and for who she is.

And to me, Bella is strong. She is so, so strong. Here is a girl who is in the world of vampires and werewolves. I don't think you get that. If you did, you would see that there is absolutely nothing Bella can do in any situation. In every case, she could be torn to shreds by one creature or another, even by mistake. I mean, she broke her hand on Jacob's chin, and he didn't even feel a thing. And the bloodlust? She cuts her finger and she clears the house of the family she loves and who loves her.

Because if she didn't clear the house, she would be supper.

Bella is helpless, trapped, powerless.

BUT!

But she still demands that she be treated as a person, not even as an equal, but just as somebody you just can't step on. Could they step on her? Sure. But she demands that they don't. And do they listen to her? Edward didn't. She had to say 'I'm going to go insane here if you don't ...' before he would even think only of what he thought was best for her (which would have ended up with her being Victoria's supper, no doubt there at all).

In this chapter, Rosalie could say: no, you're doing the project. And what could Bella do? Cry like a baby? Give in? She did neither. She stood for what she wanted and she made Rosalie accept that.

AND she was still entirely sweet, shy, humble Bella doing it. Rosalie let her, yes. Rosalie had to let her, and that's why Rosalie is Rosalie, and not Edward. After all, Rosalie is the only Twilight character who didn't walk all over Bella but listened to her and respected her wishes. No, more than that: stood by Bella. The only one.

But even if Rosalie were Edward, Bella would still prevail. And why?

Because Bella is Bella. And that's all she's got going for her. She knows this, down to her bones, down to her marrow: Bella is 'just' Bella, and Bella is all she's got, the only thing she's got in this crazy mixed-up topsy-turvy world. She knows this: that she has this one thing, herself.

And that's one more thing that she has than what most of the rest of the people in this world have.

Bella is Bella in this chapter, and I am so, so proud of her for being just that here, and always.

Stereotypes

Did you know stereotypes are generally true? Like 'Americans are loud, dumb, and monolingual,' right? Yes, stereotypes are generally true. I'm an American, by the way. Do they help, these general truisms? Sure they do, right? I get it all the time because of my gender, my job, and if I was out? God!

What are you sayin', 'phfina? I guess what I'm saying, okay, I'm dealing with my stereotypes and prejudices all the time, but I really, really try to put them aside, and I really, really try to listen to, well, you, and try to put aside what my thoughts are telling me, and work on just listening to you. And I find when I listen to myself instead of you, I always get in a ton of trouble, but when I just listen to you (which is tons harder, girls), it's like ...

It's like: wow! It's like: wow, there's nobody in the world like this.

So my unreasonable request to you is to just listen, too, to that person you are talking to or judging. 'Oh, Bella is sure dumb in this chapter!' Oh, really? Really? Have you walked a mile in her moccasins? Have you read the books? And you're judging her because she's still alive, being among vampires for two years and how long do other people last? A day? If that? And Bella's dumb because she lets Rosalie kiss her? Hm. Just like Edward has been doing for all of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn?

Or, 'Oh, I hate me that X,' X being Rosalie or Irina or Tanya or ... Edward. Or a coworker. Or a customer. Or a relative. Or a friend. Or a reader. Or a writer. I do, too, girls. God! I do, too. But there is somebody, a person, that I am hating, and there's a reason why I am hating. And here's the killer (for me, anyway), that hate is coming from somewhere inside of me.

My hatred of somebody is telling the world more about me than about the person I hate.

Stereotypes. Yeah. They work, so easily, most of the time, because they are mostly true, or else stereotypes wouldn't exist.

Think about it. Every stereotype you have a reaction to is true, somewhere in your mind. Whether you laugh at the joke or are furious about how wrong the portrayal is, it's 'true.' And you know why? Because you are reacting to it. If it had no basis in your reality, you would've just shrugged your shoulder and dismissed it with a 'Well, that's a weird thing to say.' And everything you react to has you in its power, girls. I know. I know that very well from the reactions I get in conversations I have every day.

And meanwhile, last week (July 15th) in D.C. a man was attacked and beaten by two others for his sexual preference. And meanwhile a coworker told me she was walking home when a car pulled up to her, and the driver asked her if she wanted to 'cuddle,' 'cause that's what a girl walking home from work wants, a 'cuddle' with a complete stranger.

And it all starts with a little snicker, a pointed finger, or a comment.