I Fall in Love with Fictional Characters

Greetings.

I feel like I should maybe explain the title of my blog: "Brianna's Brain." When I first created the blog and it had that empty space where a title should go I started panicking. I felt like I had to choose a really good title because I didn't know if I could go back in and change it later.

So I picked "Brianna's Brain."

I think the literalness of it works since I basically am attempting to display my gray matter all over your computer screen.

But I mainly chose it because of an episode of Star Trek called "Spock's Brain," even though it's pretty much the worst episode ever.

Yes, I am a little bit of a trekkie. I am, perhaps, (warning: lame joke approaching) bi-trek-curious. Ha. Ha. My fiance Eric wishes I didn't like Star Trek. He is die-hard Star Wars and he thinks I should be too. I don't really see the problem with liking both. Star Wars has the action, romance, politics, religion thing covered. Star Trek has the tension, science, fictional alien culture, Spock thing covered. Of course, these things do overlap to some extent. Except for Spock.

I got into Star Trek because of the new movie that came out recently. It was so awesome and I just wanted more of it. So I watched the entire Original Series of Star Trek on Youtube and Hulu. That's all I've seen of it. I haven't seen any of the older movies or any of the other series.

But the entire time I have been typing about Star Trek I have been hiding something and I think I should just come out and admit that...

I am in love with Spock.

It's pretty much real love too, not just a crush, as far as I can tell. Spock is thus one of the four men I am romantically in love with.

Lucky for my fiance he is the only man I love that is real and not just a made-up character. I also do not think I would leave Eric for any of my fictional loves. But then I have never actually seen them in person. I am 90% sure I would not leave him for a fictional character.

But anyway, whenever I would watch an episode of Star Trek that I hadn't seen before I would be holding my breath until Spock appeared on the screen. I first fell in love with him when he was played by Zachary Quinto but Leonard Nimoy really is Spock. So that makes it creepy. Nimoy is so old now! I wonder if he's aware that at least one engaged 21-year-old lusts after his younger image. *shudder* He's also a good foot taller than me. I can't help it though. What can I do? Spock is sexy.

Why is Spock sexy? Well, he has pointy ears which I have had a thing for since I was a small child reading books with elves in them. He is also highly intelligent. I am drawn to dizzying feats of intellect. Also, every woman who falls in love with him fails to get him to love her back unless he is under the influence of something (like blue flower dust). I feel like I could get him to love me.

Perhaps that is a fatal flaw of womankind. We desire unattainable men because we think we can attain them when no one else could. Besides the fact that he is, in fact, imaginary, Spock is essentially unattainable. He is half-human half-Vulcan and he professes to not understand human emotions. He tries to be all Vulcan: logical, honest, and emotionless. Then, Spock displays random emotions that he claims not to possess. He is also frequently hilariously sarcastic. Perhaps that's another reason I love him: his sense of humor. He is also incredibly loyal to his friends and he is willing to sacrifice himself to save them, even though he would never admit that he would do something like that. That's why I think he is capable of true love. I don't really have time to get into it, but here is a short list of the reasons I love Spock:

- He has a very strong sense of what's right and what's wrong and he doesn't let anyone shake his confidence in his convictions.
- He is a certifiable genius.
- He is very liberal and open-minded.
- He is incredibly brave and adventurous and he's willing to risk his life for others or for a cause he believes in.
- He is something of a pacifist because he does not believe in taking a life.
- Even though he is a pacifist he will kick serious ass without hesitation if it's the only option he has.
- As I have mentioned before, he is incredibly loyal and he sticks by his friends.
- As I have also mentioned before he has an amazing sense of humor.
- Besides being a science/math/computer whiz he is a musical genius as well! He can play symphonies perfectly on piano the first time he sees them (I have a soft spot for guys who play piano)! He also plays a Vulcan harp.
- Besides being a science/math/computer whiz and a virtuoso, he knows stuff about history, literature, and the arts as well.

These are just a few of the reasons I love him. But, I will admit that he is not perfect. I don't want to talk about his flaws now though.

Anyway, Kirk is always saying that Spock can't love but I think he's completely wrong. He (platonic) loves you Kirk! Why can't he love a girl? Your only examples are the stupid girls who throw themselves at him. They are being ridiculous! Besides the fact that they are all wrong for him, they are so clueless! They claim to love him for who he is "the Vulcan and human parts" and then they go and try to get him to wax poetic to them or kiss them passionately or something. If they really loved him they wouldn't need that. They would be totally fine just to allow him to be his emotion-denying self and deal with the ways he expresses love.

If it was me, I would first find a way to get on the Enterprise and interact with him on a daily basis. Perhaps I would get him to teach me how to play 3-dimensional chess. I know nothing about chess so it would probably take him awhile. I am slightly worried that he would refuse to teach me because he's too busy. But, since I know almost nothing about chess I think he would be too intrigued to refuse. I would then be my normal self and hope that he would find me "fascinating." I think he would. I can be quite fascinating when I'm not paralyzed by shyness. I would definitely have to forget about that around him. I would also not be an insensitive jerk like the rest of the crew members tend to be. If I ever brought up his Vulcan heritage I would not make racial slurs about it. I would only say good things. I can't think of any bad things anyway. I would also take up my flute again and try to get him to play music with me. Then, I would wait. I don't know how long I would have to wait. I think at least five years. He needs time to fall in love. So I would give him time and just be his beautiful charming friend. Then I would wait for him to let slip any more-than-friendly feelings. He might not. Then I would be very sad and probably leave the Star Trek Universe. But, if he did that would be so amazing! I would have to be incredibly vigilant though since his slips are so subtle. Oh, I would also have to become good friends with Kirk and Bones, maybe Scotty too. I think they would help me if I asked in the right way; they think Spock needs to get some. So if Spock did let it slip that he was interested in me I would make a romantic gesture. I would not throw myself at him and confess that I love him, no, that is for Star Trek bimbos. I would move incredibly slowly. I might touch his hand or something when it was obvious that I didn't do it accidentally. Then I would probably gauge his reaction to that and leave him alone for a bit if he needed it. Yes, it would be an excruciatingly long courtship. But I think in the end it would be worth it.

I hope you don't think this post was incredibly silly, geeky, and a waste of your time.

I don't really have time to talk about the other fictional characters I'm in love with, or my fiance. But I feel like I should at least say who the two besides Spock and Eric are: Achmed and Zuko.

Achmed is an immortal assassin king in a series of books by Elizabeth Haydon called "The Symphony of Ages." He is probably more unattainable than Spock. For one thing he is already in love with a beautiful girl who is annoyingly perfect. He is also incredibly paranoid and doesn't trust anyone. Luckily though, he can't have the girl he wants, she's married to someone else and has a kid. But, to be fair, I think he deserves her more than her husband does. But anyway, he is described as being hideously ugly. He is not human. He's half-firbolg half-dhracian. I don't feel like getting into what that means. However, I don't think I would find him unattractive. He's just so amazing! He is probably one of the funniest characters I have ever encountered even though most of his humor is incredibly biting. He is a genius (I have a thing for geniuses). He seems to understand the human condition perfectly. People are also always up in his face about things he's doing and he is always able to make them look like idiots because he's right and they're wrong. He conquers an entire kingdom with a little help from like 3 people. Yeah. He also creates his own weapons and uses them with ridiculous skill. His personal mission is to rid the world of evil. He has a ton of flaws and secrets. I think that is one of the things that makes him so appealing. That's all I'll say about him for now. To really talk about him in-depth I would kind of have to summarize a lot of the books he's in. But anyway, I don't have a strategy for seducing him. I can't figure out how I would even get close to him. His military network would probably kill me before I could even get a mile away from him. He's also devoted to that girl I was talking about. And he is so biting to the people he loves. I don't know if I could take his teasing. I'm too sensitive. But, I can't help loving him. Maybe I could find a way to make it work.

The other fictional character I love is Zuko. This one is probably the most embarrassing. He's a 16-year-old on a Nickelodeon anime-type show called Avatar: The Last Airbender. In the show, people use the four elements: earth, water, fire, and air, kind of like magic. It's based on Asian martial arts and culture. Zuko is an exiled prince who can control fire. He steals the show even though for most of it he's the bad guy. When you first meet him he's really arrogant and hot-tempered. And he's hunting the hero of the show. But then it becomes clear that he's a really complicated guy. He was exiled by his father, the "king." He got exiled because he spoke out against his father's decision to use untrained soldiers as a distraction in battle. He didn't want innocent people slaughtered for no reason! So his father made him enter into a duel with him. He refused to attack his dad. His dad then viciously attacked him and scarred him for life in more ways than one. So, he was sent out to find the hero and capture him, that's the only way for him to regain his father's love. So he becomes obsessed with finding the hero. But he's really a decent person, somehow he managed to avoid being twisted by his horrific dad. No one has ever shown him any mercy, yet he's always showing mercy to people. He never kills any of the guys who attack him even though he could. He is not a genius. He's not the brilliant child. He struggles to get all the skill he can. His sister is great at everything and she teased him throughout his whole childhood. Then she plays power games with him by manipulating his desire for love from his family. The only one he ever got real love back from was his mother. And his father killed her or exiled her (not sure which) when he was a small child. His uncle is the only one who currently shows him real love and it takes him forever to be able to accept it. Eventually he learns that he doesn't need his dad's love. He realizes that he can be the bigger, better person and deny his dad. Then he goes to join the good guys and they reject him at first. I'm not really sure why I love him so much. Maybe just because he was raised in a really twisted family yet somehow managed to become a person with so much integrity and courage. He also really needs a hug.

I hope this post wasn't too boring. These are some of the things I think about when I'm falling asleep at night. I indulge myself in fantasies about these guys to stop the incessant babble about school and life that goes on in my head. I make-up stories where I create a fictional character version of me that could fit into their world and win them over. It really helps me get to sleep. Something I should be doing right now.

Goodnight,
Brianna

A Hard Day's Night

It's been a hard day's night... and I've been workin' like a dog...

Hi. Today is Monday.

I'm having a very hard time talking about things that do not have to do with school! I'm stressing out.

This blog, i.e. ENG 411H Reflective Project, is due tomorrow/today.

My rough draft for ENG 411H is due Thursday. I haven't even finished reading one of the books I want to write about for that paper! I don't have the book, it was shipped today though, so hopefully I'll get it soon since I expedited the shipping.

I also have to read another book for that class and I haven't been able to get as far into it as I need to be.

My revised Shakespeare paper is due Thursday. I don't know how to revise that paper. I wrote it the same way I would have written a paper for ENG 411H: with close, detailed analysis of the text. I probably wrote it that way because that's the only type of papers I've had to write this semester. However, that is apparently the wrong way to write about Shakespeare. I got 96% on both of the tests I've taken so far in that class. So, I need to figure out what I did in those and apply it to my 87% paper. I'm not sure I'll have time to succeed.

Then, for Wednesday, I have to read three 5-10 page short stories and critique them.

Next Wednesday is also me and my fiance's 6 year anniversary.

Then, for next Wednesday, I need to write a 5-10 page short story and print out 22 copies of it.

I also have to finish my application for study abroad. I have to write the application essay, which is about 500 words, and the scholarship essay, which is about 1,000 words. I need to get that done sooner than April 15th. Basically, it needs to be done ASAP.

For Friday, I need to complete a poetry portfolio and turn it in to my teacher's box. That will probably be the least difficult since I just need to print out all the poems from this semester and organize them.

That feels good to get out. I don't keep planners because I forget to write in them or I lose them. I keep everything in my head. It is kind of nice to see it all out there in black and white though. Now I just need to relax and try to breathe.

Maybe now I can write a post about something NOT related to stupid school.

~Brianna

Crash! Bam! And you're okay

Hello!

Here is a poem I just wrote in my ENG 371 class. It's basically an expression of how I'm feeling right now. You don't have to really read too much into it; you just need to try to feel the emotion behind the words. Sometimes I feel like I don't like poetry because I just end up saying, "But I don't get it!" I think I'm starting to realize that you don't really have to "get it" you just need to feel it!

Crash! Bam! And you’re okay
wandering through
the hallowed halls of
higher education hell
perhaps the tuberosity
of your fifth metatarsal
feels strangely strained.

You’re feeling the
disabling of your
fuel pumps as you
try to juggle
twenty-thousand
didgeridoos full of
nonsense.

What! Don’t stop! Get
your gluteus maximus
into gear and power
through food cravings
and mind-numbing
boredom that makes
you turn your
white-knuckled skin
into elastic card houses
that sink away too slow.

Your pen scurries high
voltage across the lines
and you feel concern for
your latent osteoporosis.

Why do you take on so
much? You’re juggling
flaming chainsaws for
Jesus Christ lizard’s sake!
But the legend endures
through end-of-week levels

You’re going to break
the shaft of your femur.
Gyrating up stairs, along
walkways, into cars like
the Porsche 918 Spyder
Concept. Quicker than
the hallowed Carrera GT.

Maybe you’re in a
Placebo-controlled study.
Study and observe the
effects on the human
psyche. Tears like therapy
but more like the jagged
edges of liquid pain.

When do you stop?
Does it ever stop?
The road ahead is:
icy, rocky, blue,
green, banana!

There is a clear decline
in sexual interest, sexual
arousability when you
skip showers for
Shakespeare and are

slightly angled, seen from above
but you don’t want to quit
life in its frenzied
über-crazy-manic-slam

Driving through slushy
tendons and muscles
that rebel and squeak
as you freefall
into post puberty.

The adverse effects are clear
and present danger. The
biggest surprise is the
moments when you
can relax and just
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Windfall

Hello.

Here is a short story I wrote last summer. It's based on one of my particularly vivid childhood memories. Enjoy!

Windfall

A willow tree once grew in the backyard of a modest house in suburban Phoenix, Arizona. It had towered majestically over the patchwork of dried yellow and green grass that made up the lawn. The orange honeysuckle and purple bougainvillea that lined the brick wall of the yard had seemed ostentatious when compared to the willow’s solemn beauty. The summer sun, which stripped the grass of its lush vibrancy, once sent rays of light to slant through the willow’s trailing leaves. However, the sun could never fully disturb the cool shade beneath the willow’s branches, the only escape from the oppressive summer heat. But the willow no longer stands.

The little girl who lives in the house did not see the willow tree fall. Her mother tells her of its demise in the morning while she is eating cereal and watching “My Little Pony.”

“Hey honey, did a loud noise wake you up last night?”

The little girl shakes her head “no” with her mouth full.

“Whoa! You must be a heavy sleeper!” her mother chuckles then fondly tousles the girl’s hair. “It was such a loud crash! Daddy and I jumped right out of bed! All that wind from the storm last night blew the willow tree down right on top of the swing set, can you believe that?”

The little girl looks away from the TV and up at her mother, eyes wide as she gasps in astonishment.

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right? But, OK, listen to me now. Are you listening?” she says, turning the girl’s head towards her as it tries to turn back to the TV. “Stay away from the swing set and the willow tree. The swing set can’t hold up that heavy tree for long. It will break and fall and crush any little girls standing near it. Daddy is going to get some friends to come and help him cut up the tree and move the pieces away as soon as he can. Play with your toys inside until then, OK sweetie?”

After her mother leaves the room to do laundry, the girl scurries to the sliding door and presses her tiny hands and face to the glass. The willow tree had been ripped from the ground with tremendous force, its roots now just a tangle of wood and dirt. A mammoth hole and the jagged remains of its roots are all that remains in the earth. It had fallen onto the old, metal swing set and its leaves were wrapped around the gleaming slide like feather boas around a woman’s neck. The girl may not have seen or heard it fall, but she witnessed that storm.

Monsoon season always brings such storms, biting torrents of rain, booming thunder, bright lightning flashes, and howling winds. The girl had watched the storm before being forced to bed as she watched all the storms, exhilarated by the horrifying wildness and beauty. The willow had always withstood the cruel winds, an immovable wall in the face of their blind fury. However, this time the wind had prevailed, proving why even mountains bend to its force over time.

The girl pushes on the glass door and it slides open with a low shriek. She runs out onto the dry grass and feels its sharp crunch beneath her bare feet. The sun shines on her long brown hair as she abruptly laughs at the comical sight of the fallen tree on her swing set. Then, her laughter trails off and her brow furrows above her brown eyes. Hummingbirds dart past to drink from the honeysuckles as she studies the tree.

The willow had always been an insurmountable obstacle, a tree that could not be climbed. As she walks towards it, she remembers digging her nails into the tough bark, scraping her feet against its rough surface, wrapping her arms around the trunk and getting sticky sap all over her body in her attempts to reach even the lowest branch. She finally gave up her mission when even the cat could not climb the tree. He managed to reach the lowest branch but fell upside-down when his declawed front paws failed him.

Now it is simple to climb the tree. She barely remembers her mother’s warning. The tree had always been her fort and her friend, why would it hurt her now? The girl carefully walks around the mass of dirt and roots and scrambles atop the trunk. The rough bark scrapes her hands and feet and the sharp smell of sap fills her nose. She sweats in the hot sun and the bright green leggings and flowered shirt of her pajamas cling to her thin frame. She climbs the tree easily and quickly finds shade under its branches. The green tendrils of the willow’s leaves are draped all around her like curtains, blocking out the rest of the world.

She soon climbs to the top of the swing set and perches atop it. She briefly considers climbing across the top of the swing set. She remembers her daddy pushing her and her sister on the swings. “Higher, higher!” she had shrieked happily. The swing set had bucked and rocked out of its grounding holes and then back down into them with harsh thuds. She must have lost her grip on the chains, her hands slick with sweat. She had fallen from the swing to the ground and got dirt in stinging scrapes on hands and face as well as an aching head. Another memory quickly follows. She remembers gripping the sides of the slide to push forward and not letting go soon enough. She felt the rush of wind as she flew down the slide. Then there was sharp pain and bright blood from a gashed finger. No, climbing across the swing set is not safe.

She explores the lower levels of the willow then climbs to the very top. She’s covered in sap, bits of bark, and leaves and her hair is a snarled nest but she does not care. This is her tree and she is just like a monkey or a jungle cat prowling its branches. She finally reaches the very top where the branches are thin and sag under her slight weight. She pokes her head through the foliage and looks out on the yard, the leaves draped around her shoulders and body like an elaborate cloak. Then, the branches give out and snap beneath her small body.

She hears the snap and falls toward the hard ground, ground so greedy for rain it sucks away any moisture and hordes it deep, leaving the dirt rock solid. She’s plummeting down in a whirl of blue sky, whipping leaves, and sharp branches. She flails, trying to grab onto something, trying to stop her fall. The strands of leaves are tangled and loop back and forth like nets. They slow her fall, bit by bit. Finally, one bundle of vine-like leaves stops her fall. She dangles a couple feet from the ground, sitting on a loop of leafy tendrils that closely resembles a swing. She exhales and takes gasping breaths for a brief moment before her precarious perch snaps and drops her the remaining distance to the leaf-strewn ground. She draws her knees to her chin and sits motionless on the ground, unharmed.

Men come and saw the willow tree into manageable pieces and cart them away. The girl and her friends create a fort in the hole left in the ground until it gets filled in and no trace of the willow tree remains. The girl boasts of her experience. She tells her friends how the tree saved her, how it would not let her fall.

The End