Peacock Queen Reborn

So, if you follow my twitter (it’s in the blog sidebar! Go follow me now!) you know I lost out for the position of president of the Miskatonic Film Society. To say I’m still sore on the subject is an understatement, but I can say that I’m no longer heartbroken. I’ve learned some valuable lessons, primarily that I am no more meant to meddle in politics than I am meant to grow wings and fly to the moon. And after three months of dying to myself, I am free. Free not only to return to my Felix Harrowgate-esque self, but also to start a club of my own – the Miskatonic Scifi and Fantasy Club. No, one does not exist already, to my utter bafflement.

I am not, however, free of anger in regards to my being beaten for the position. Most of my rage derives from the fact that my opponent rigged the voting, and given that he was in a relationship with the current president at the time I should have known I was over a barrel the minute the sides were lined up. I took my defeat as gracefully as I could, of course, as an aristocrat should, but that does not seem to be enough for the new president. At this juncture I have even gone so far as to offer the hand of friendship to get dialogue going with him – a rather important gesture, given that I was elected vice president and we have to WORK TOGETHER – but thus far no luck. If he keeps it up things are going to become REALLY unpleasant in our near future.

Thankfully, now I’m back after three months of living in a coffin of my own misguided ambition for all the wrong things. So strap on your goggles, friends, and hold on. I suspect things are going to get a mite wild.

Breakups, Switzerland, and a whopping case of drama

As those who follow my twitter know, I recently broke up with my boyfriend. Or not so recently. Time these days has become intensely subjective due to the snow-darkened day-to-day routine of life at Miskatonic. Events that actually happened a month ago can feel like just yesterday, and one's recent midday meal may seem to have occurred in another millennia altogether. It's not easy to deal with. At any rate, I am single again. It wasn't a necessarily easy decision, but it *was* one that had to happen. Due to a multitude of issues (my grandfather, who inspired me to pursue my study of history, died, and I've been sick a great deal, with both of those problems compounded by the fact that I've been ass-deep in work), I'm not in a place where I can deal with a relationship. I have to get back on my feet as a daring and decadent aristocrat before I can even consider romance, and even when I do I know I'm not interested in hopping back in the saddle of love. After all, I have, in theory, a limited amount of time to enjoy a single life, uncomplicated by the responsibilities of a significant other. So I'm going to enjoy it, put my energies into my studies, both in school and personally (I'm teaching myself Sumerian and studying mycology when I have a moment), and have the time of my single life.

My friends, however, are having a considerably rougher experience where Cupid and his thoughtless arrows are concerned. Simply put, two of my friends who were dating each other broke up, in one of the more spectacularly melodramatic ways possible, made worse by the fact that they had been cohabitating at the time. As a consequence, sides were drawn up, banners were raised, and what amounts to World War III broke out among mes amies. The worst aspect of all this? I'm the only neutral party in the group. So, like poor Switzerland, I'm forced to watch every move I make lest I find myself bombed (metaphorically speaking) off the face of the earth by either party. The stress is horrendous, and I'm thoroughly sick of it all, but as yet I have found no way to extricate myself from the proceedings. It's at times like these that I wish I could break up with *friends* as well as with lovers, because if any paramour of mine ever gave me this much trouble I'd have kicked them to the curb long ago. Nyarlathotep on a unicycle, what I do for friendship, let alone love....

At any rate, a new review should appear in a week. Presuming I don't just spontaneously combust and end all the drama in one fell swoop.