Politeness and the Joys of Sanity
January, 2000

I was raised to always be polite, and, weirdo that I am, I actually listened to my parents. Before you start leaving in droves, no, this isn't a rant about declining values or whatever of the modern teen. It's about the problems that come from the politeness. And eventually the problems with being insane.

That looks odd. But it's true. Most of the time, politeness is a bitch. I'm not talking about excusing yourself when you burp, or saying 'bless you' when someone sneezes, or even swearing (gah, subject for another, lengthy rant), but just day to day keeping others' feelings intact.

Which is often annoying. I have the hardest time telling people to go away. ::grins:: Ironically enough, not my friends, who I figure can take it if I say I'm not in the mood, but the jerks who desperately need a personality transplant. I'm afraid of offending them. Considering I usually want them as far away as possible, this gets me deep in it.

Anyway, I'll come back to that in a bit. On to the other part of the title; the joys of sanity. I'll quite cheerfully admit to being insane. You don't get this obsessed about gargoyles, writing, and whatnot by not being a little tweaked upstairs. And this occasionally shows up when I really, really like something. I get obsessive.

Not stalker, all consuming obsessive, but I just do anything I reasonably can (I am a lazy geek, ya know) to show my appreciation and drool over whatever it is. Art is a big example of this. If you've just glanced at the links page or around my site, you can probably figure I get obsessive about art. Does this mean I go out and stalk artists? No. It means I sign guestbooks and rack up counters like you probably wouldn't believe.

Why the obsession? Buggered if I can figure it out. Maybe it's the belief that art and writing feed off each other. In a good way, you sickos! Sometimes you need a picture to make a piece of writing just right, and sometimes you need some sort of writing to perfect a picture. Symbiosis. Since I can't do art at any level that would keep my happy, I have to feed the craving (so to speak) by drooling over others' art.

Now the other bit about the obsession. When I find a site/artist I like - well, there are all those signs asking for e-mail - I occasionally send on a letter about how much it impressed me. But by that time, I'm usually so hyper I start ranting. Not this sort of rant, but almost screeching, bouncing off the walls 'oh my gods, can I worship you?!?!' sort of hyper ranting. ::grins:: Pretty much anyone who ever got a letter from me about their work (artistic or literary) has been on the receiving end of one of these. A few don't mind ::grins and waves to M.C.::, but I'm always afraid that I scared them.

Case in point; one of the artists who I managed to commission for a pic. I won't say who, but unfortunately that doesn't really limit the identity. O well. Anyway, when the artist let out a commission, I was sick, which always puts me in a 'what the hell, whatever' mood, so I asked for one. Ended up being the first request, so I got me a commission.

Which brings us back to the politeness bit. I don't like commissioning people. I feel like I'm bugging the artist. Murmph. Never could say "I want" very well. Anyway, I left the artist alone after giving her the details (common sense there; who wants some nut popping up every day -minimum- and asking if it's done yet?), and when she sent it to me, I was so amazed that I started babbling thanks. The insanity kicking in there. I think I frightened her.

And that still bugs me. I'm not going to stalk anyone (cripes! Do you have any idea the work that would involve? I don't have much of a life, but no one has that much free time), but I think I came across as too.... rabid a fanatic. ::shrugs and sighs:: I'm too polite to ask her if she did think I was heading for stalking or whatever (not to mention having this come out of the blue after so long since the request is just too weird for anyone), but I love the art too much to just leave it. Guess I'll just drool in silence and muck up her counter.

Damned if ya do, damned if ya don't.

I hate those situations.

As always, comments can be e-mailed to Norcumi@backtick.net, or Instant Messaged to the same address.

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