ggbd, revisited

Part of me misses this grand day of silliness.

Goth Girl Blog Day... just saying the words seems silly. 

Part of me, though, still observes it in remembrance of Sam Johnson.

It's thanks to him that I went to my very first Dragon*Con.

Had he not convinced my Mom's BFF to take us there in 2008, how would my life be different?

Would I have gone those other times to show off my cosplay designs?

Would I?

My little girls are not yet of an age to share that event, but, soon.

I am realizing that time passes just a bit faster these days.

Perhaps that's akin to parallax error?

Watching my children grow certainly seems to speed up time.

Nice to have this day to help me mark it.

this one's for Dave Hewitt

He's the one who still wanted Sam Johnson's Goth Girl Blog Day to exist, years ago.

He's the one I wrote the post for last month, mistakenly, when I misremembered which day of which month the event occurs on.

That's a reflection of how long it's been since I was inspired to post a GGBD entry.

For the record, the marking of GGBD is, and has always been since its creation, on February 25.

Here's one from my stash, about the Goth Girl and her black diamond dream.

Feel free to look for others about her.

GGBD 2015

Just wanted to let y'all know: The Goth Girl is all grown up and gone away.
She turned 18 in September, got back together with her first love, and is every bit a senior in high school.
Sorry.
It's been a fun ride, for sure.
But no more black nail polish.
No more punk rock schoolgirl.
No more kvetching in french. (Like that couldn't be translated.)
No more headbanging about saying SWIRLY.
No more longing for impossible things.

Yeah, I'm going to miss her, too.

goth grrl 2014

Goth Girl Blog Day has come yet again, and the world is still here.
THAT is a surprise.
Well, maybe. It depends on your perspective of heaven and hell.
If living here is hell, then the planet will no doubt exist forever.
If living here is heaven, then why do people still kill each other and why is there still so much sadness and why can't I find black nail polish with flat opalescent highlights?
I first saw a black opal in my brother's Guinness Book of World Records. Halley's Comet Opal is what they named the stone and it was found at a place called Lightning Ridge. The picture said it came from Australia, just like almost every other opal on this planet. It is so appropriate, though, that something so dark and beautiful comes from a lightning-struck area of the land Down Under, n'est-ce pas?
Get it?
I wish my mom would get a clue. She likes diamonds. Ugh. The more sparkly and bright-white, the better she likes them. Double ugh.
I want a black diamond.
Not those stones called carbonado. Sure, I like that they are three billion years old. But they aren't a single crystal, they're a collection of crystals. That sounds flimsy to me. Still, if they ever prove they came from a supernova, then I definitely want some. Even if the stones do look a little too shiny for goth wear.
Anthracite may be a cool word in the mouth, but it's full of rough edges. It's also just plain old coal, whether some people try to dress it up as "black diamond" or not. Surprisingly, it's shiny, too.
I'm not opposed to a synthetic black diamond. If there's one thing I've learned over the years from my mom's bff, it's this: synthetic substances are composed of the same, identical types of atoms, and quantities of those atoms, as the substances found in nature. So, a solid carbon diamond is a solid carbon diamond, whether the pressures and temperatures of the Earth made it or the pressures and temperatures in a laboratory.
So, scientists, listen up. This Goth Grrl has a task for you.
I want a flat, light-eating black diamond that tries to drag you into its depths while you look at it.
That would be amazing to own.
Amazing.
I would be the envy of all of my friends.
Like I'm not already.
Most of them don't know any scientists. I try to educate them, but it's an uphill battle.
I think if I could get the scientists to make the type of black diamond I want, then all of my friends would be more accepting of science in general and chemistry in particular.
I really want that black diamond.
I'm going to go and mope now.
And eat a sandwich.
And pretend that Sam Johnson is eating a sandwich with me and complaining about Miley Cyrus.

GGBD 2012

Bien, aujourd'hui était Jour de Blog de Fille de Goth encore et j'ai été pris au piège à la Géorgie Bol de Science Régional pour presque tout. Ai-je dit que vous LE bff de ma mere est un taré de science total ? Comme, le total.
Elle était dans le ciel, obtenant pour lire des questions de la chimie, les maths, la biologie, la physique, et l'énergie pour les heures interminables aux adolescents comme moi. Bien, quand je dis « comme moi », je signifie, vous savez, les jeunes. Les questions de maths s'intéressaient presque, toute l'obscurité et tordu et plein de carré et cubé et racines. Que je ne serais pas débile et sur une équipe de connaissance de science - seulement si je pourrais être tout l'écureuil secret de lui. J'ai entendu quelqu'un dit qu'et il a semblé si mystérieux et changé.
ourquoi j'écris blog en français ? Bien, vous me permettre de dire le reste de l'enfer que j'ai été en. Elle a tenu à traîner m'à chaque un des films pour le Festival du film Francophone. Chaque seul l'un. Il y avait cinq d'eux. Cinq. Pas tout l'aujourd'hui, mon un jour spécial, quand je suis encouragé à m'exprimer dans mes propres termes.
Jamais depuis jeudi elle m'a traîné à ces films. « Élargir les secteurs de ma vie qui est étroite ». Si je veux que n'importe quoi a élargi ou pas. J'aime que ma vie réduit. Je sais quoi prévoir à tout moment parce que je ne permets pas le changement.
ELLE agit du changement. Vous penseriez que le temps une personne a obtenu pour être aussi vieille qu'elle qu'ils auraient décidé qu'ils ont aimé et seraient résistant pour changer. Vous penseriez que le temps une personne a obtenu pour être plus qu'à moitié un séculaire qu'ils sauraient pour garder leur singularité à themself et ne l'infligent pas sur d'autres. Je penserais cela.
Toujours, le temps n'était pas une perte complète. Les films tous ont eu une obscurité à eux qui m'ont dessiné en, que je ne la dirais jamais. "L'affaire Farewell" a été réglé en Russie, avec une bonne partie de que tout à fait réglant si que j'ai défailli presque. Presque. Les blancs et les noirs croustillants partout dans l'écran, et le caractère principal meurt. Bien tragique. Cela était jeudi. Vendredi a été défendu coupler, surtout entre les hommes. "Le Refuge" a ouvert avec un gars qui meurt d'une overdose d'héroïne et son amie qui sortent d'un coma le trouver mort et son enceinte avec un foetus drogue-dépendant - si elle doit rester sur les drogues jusqu'à ce que le bébé est né. Le frère mort du gars était gai et j'ai dû regarder le faisant hors avec un autre gars. Mais le highpoint pour moi était la chanson de mélancolie il a chanté. En général, totalement étrange et très profondément noir, qui est pourquoi il m'a fait appel.
La seconde l'un que la nuit était "La Belle Personne". La mère principale du caractère était morte, donc la fille avait transféré à une autre école où son cousin est allé. Elle a trouvé tous les garçons là après son corps, mais elle était totalement pas prête pour cela. Je peux relater si. Alors elle trouve son cousin est gai et qu'elle est dans l'amour avec son professeur italien et le garçon dans l'amour avec elle se tue. Tous je peux dire suis l'histoire de Roméo et Juliet maudit pâlit par la comparaison.
Après l'être dans l'entreprise de gens scientifiques toute la journée - de 8:30 ce matin jusqu' à 3:30 cet après-midi - j'ai eu beaucoup d'agitation de ce soir. Le Festival du film pourrait-il soutenir son ton noir ? Surtout comme j'ai su le premier film, "L'illusionniste" était un conte animé d'un magicien. Comment le juvénile, n'est-ce pas ?
J'étais inexact. (Ceci était un terme que j'ai entendu maintes et maintes fois au Bol de Science et maintenant c'est fermement dans ma tête. Hélas). Le magicien était un homme vieillissant qui dépense son argent sur quelque fille qui n'est pas son amie et passe son temps avec l'autres mourir de faim artistes. L'obscurité, terrible, épouvantable - perfectionner pour mon jour spécial, après que tous.
La nuit a terminé avec "Un Prophete". Beaucoup de gens qui meurent dans ce film de prison et même un fantôme macabre qui hante son meurtrier. Le fantôme a fumé même des cigarettes et la fumée fait le brin des trous dans son cou où il avait saigné à la mort. Impressionnant, bien que j'ai géré pour dissimuler mon intérêt, je pense.
Maintenant j'ai écrit mon blog en français si mon persécuteur ne peut pas le lire. Si elle veut savoir qu'il dit, elle aura besoin d'obtenir l'a traduit. Ah, doux est ma vengeance et une façon adéquate pour fermer mon jour.

Goth Girl Blog Day, english version

For those who do not speak French, here is the translation:

Well, today was Goth Girl Blog Day again and I was trapped at the Georgia Science Bowl for almost all of it. Did I tell you the bff of my mother is a total science nerd? Like, total. She was overjoyed, getting to read questions of chemistry, math, biology, physics, and energy for unending hours to the teenagers like me. Well, when I say "like me", I mean, you know, the young ones. The questions of math were almost interesting, very dark and twisted and a lot of squares and cubes and roots. What I would not be is feeble and on a team of science knowledge - only if I could be the secret squirrel. I heard someone say that and it seemed so mysterious and alter-state.
Why do I write this blog in French? Well, allow me to tell you the remainder of the hell that I was in. She was anxious to lead me to every one of the films for the Francophone Film Festival. Every single one. There were five of them. Five. Not all today, my special day, when I am encouraged to express myself in my own terms. Ever since Thursday she has taken me to these films. "To widen the areas of my life that are narrow". Whether or not I want anything widened. I like my narrow life. I know what to foresee at any moment because I do not allow change.
SHE is all about change. You would think that by the time a person got to be as old as she is they would have decided what they liked and would be resistant to change. You would think that by the time a person got to be more than half a century that they would know to keep their oddity to themselves and to not inflict it on others. I would think that.
Still, the time wasn't a complete loss. The films all had a darkness to them that drew me in, not that I would ever tell her. "L'affaire Farewell" was set in Russia, with so much of that stark setting that I almost swooned. Almost. Crisp whites and blacks all over the screen, and the main character dies. Nicely tragic. That was on Thursday.
Friday was forbidden coupling, mostly between men. "Le Refuge" opened with a guy dying of a heroin overdose and his girlfriend coming out of a coma to find him dead and her pregnant with a drug-addicted fetus - so she has to stay on drugs until the baby is born. The dead guy's brother was gay and I had to watch him making out with another guy. But the highpoint for me was the melancholy song he sang. Overall, totally strange and very deeply black, which is why it appealed to me.
The second one that night was "La Belle Personne". The main character's mother had died, so the girl had transferred to another school where her cousin went. She found all the boys there after her body, but she was totally not ready for that. I can so relate. Then she finds her cousin is gay and that she is in love with her Italian teacher and the boy in love with her kills himself. All I can say is the story of star-crossed Romeo and Juliet pales by comparison.
After being in the company of scientific people all day - from 8:30 this morning until 3:30 this afternoon - I had much trepidation about tonight. Would the Film Festival be able to sustain its black tone? Especially as I knew the first film, "L'illusionniste" was an animated tale of a magician. How juvenile, n'est-ce pas?
I was incorrect. (This was a term I heard over and over at the Science Bowl and now it is firmly in my head. Alas.) The magician was an aging man who spends his money on some girl who isn't his girlfriend and spends his time with other starving artists. Dark, dire, dreadful - perfect for my special day, after all.
The night has ended with "Un Prophete". Lots of people dying in this prison film and even a gruesome ghost that haunts its murderer. The ghost even smoked cigarettes and the smoke would wisp out of the holes in his neck where he had bled to death. Awesome, though I did manage to conceal my interest, I think.
Now I've written my blog in French so my tormentor cannot read it. If she wants to know what it says, she will need to get it translated. Ah, sweet is my revenge and a fitting way to close my day.