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A visit from the fairy godfather
Ailei came to visit this weekend. Spending time with her is always an interesting experience, both because I can talk to her about things that it would be difficult to convey to other people and because our relationship originated online, in character.
Anyone who acts or roleplays has probably experienced this situation to some degree; even if you know someone is pretending, you can never fully seperate what you see onstage from the person you know in real life. This becomes infinitely harder when you never met the person before the audition, the entire performance is ad-libbed, and you both play slightly more extreme versions of your actual selves.
Online, Ailei is my godfather, and Val is . . . well, Val is my closest friend and soon-to-be roommate. (Extreme versions of me and Val are still basically me and Val.) Anyway, Ailei plays the morally ambiguous semi-parental figure I didn't realize I had, who I rarely see but often write to and hear about, and who enjoys, (in my character's estimation,) an extremely liberal application of the Romie Exception. "He just tortured someone to death? That's appalling! But since it's him, there must be a good reason. I should have a hot bath ready."
There is hero worship, oh yes, and although Val and I can sit down and criticize the character to death, my brain slides right over it and I start thinking, "maybe we could have some sushi? It's been a few days since I last had sushi. . . ," at which point Val sighs and puts on a teakettle for me.
As I said, this relationship bleeds over into real life. It's surreal, even when it's expected, and doubly so when I'm sitting in a bar next to the woman who plays my godfather, watching the guitarist whose picture has always represented him.
It's great.
Ailei herself expressed some doubts about how interesting a guest she was, as people often do. (I never really understand this, because I don't know that I'm actually that entertaining a host; I just have enough panache to cover for it. It's all about the effluence of savoir faire.) In any case, I would like to provide a dramatic reenactment of the same conversation, viewed three different ways.
Ailei's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [normal conversation]
Romie: Oh! [long string of esoteric terms], don't you think?
Val: Wow, like [more esotera]?
Romie: (beaming) Exactly! Right?
Val: That's brilliant!
Romie: Yes! We'll have to [complicated and sketchily explained master plan].
Val: How long have you been plotting that, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
Val's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [somewhat dubious speech about how we should protect the innocent]
Romie: You're so cool. Can we go rebuild the world in my image?
Val: Are you sure you could handle that?
Romie: Pretty sure.
Val: I am trepidatious.
Romie: [harebrained scheme which may result in the anhilation of several major religions and governing political structures]
Val: Do you think you can talk her out of this, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
Romie's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [something so clever that it can be stated matter-of-factly]
Romie: Gosh, that reminds me of [obviously related allegory].
Val: I was thinking of [another allegory], but that's basically the same.
Romie: It is good that we all agree on this subject.
Val: Yes. We are in pleasant concord.
Romie: Perhaps we should make brownies.
Val: Would you like one, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
In conclusion, Irish whiskey goes very well with Guinness, and soda bread should be eaten hot.
Anyone who acts or roleplays has probably experienced this situation to some degree; even if you know someone is pretending, you can never fully seperate what you see onstage from the person you know in real life. This becomes infinitely harder when you never met the person before the audition, the entire performance is ad-libbed, and you both play slightly more extreme versions of your actual selves.
Online, Ailei is my godfather, and Val is . . . well, Val is my closest friend and soon-to-be roommate. (Extreme versions of me and Val are still basically me and Val.) Anyway, Ailei plays the morally ambiguous semi-parental figure I didn't realize I had, who I rarely see but often write to and hear about, and who enjoys, (in my character's estimation,) an extremely liberal application of the Romie Exception. "He just tortured someone to death? That's appalling! But since it's him, there must be a good reason. I should have a hot bath ready."
There is hero worship, oh yes, and although Val and I can sit down and criticize the character to death, my brain slides right over it and I start thinking, "maybe we could have some sushi? It's been a few days since I last had sushi. . . ," at which point Val sighs and puts on a teakettle for me.
As I said, this relationship bleeds over into real life. It's surreal, even when it's expected, and doubly so when I'm sitting in a bar next to the woman who plays my godfather, watching the guitarist whose picture has always represented him.
It's great.
Ailei herself expressed some doubts about how interesting a guest she was, as people often do. (I never really understand this, because I don't know that I'm actually that entertaining a host; I just have enough panache to cover for it. It's all about the effluence of savoir faire.) In any case, I would like to provide a dramatic reenactment of the same conversation, viewed three different ways.
Ailei's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [normal conversation]
Romie: Oh! [long string of esoteric terms], don't you think?
Val: Wow, like [more esotera]?
Romie: (beaming) Exactly! Right?
Val: That's brilliant!
Romie: Yes! We'll have to [complicated and sketchily explained master plan].
Val: How long have you been plotting that, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
Val's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [somewhat dubious speech about how we should protect the innocent]
Romie: You're so cool. Can we go rebuild the world in my image?
Val: Are you sure you could handle that?
Romie: Pretty sure.
Val: I am trepidatious.
Romie: [harebrained scheme which may result in the anhilation of several major religions and governing political structures]
Val: Do you think you can talk her out of this, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
Romie's view of the conversation:
Ailei: [something so clever that it can be stated matter-of-factly]
Romie: Gosh, that reminds me of [obviously related allegory].
Val: I was thinking of [another allegory], but that's basically the same.
Romie: It is good that we all agree on this subject.
Val: Yes. We are in pleasant concord.
Romie: Perhaps we should make brownies.
Val: Would you like one, Ailei?
Ailei: Um. . .
In conclusion, Irish whiskey goes very well with Guinness, and soda bread should be eaten hot.
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But it makes me miss my mum (tilly).
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It's working.
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I think that's a big difference between 21 and 31, actually. When I was 21, I confused people constantly. But years of being dragged down by corporate mundania has taught me one vital lesson: nobody understands you when shit just goes from brain to mouth. So, while my brain is still really frenetic, I've figured out how to relay information in such a way that most people understand me most of the time.
::sigh::
I prefer the old me.
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Anyway, I don't think you're as different now as all that, which was the point. Note that in my perception of the conversation, you're brilliant and I'm mostly interested in eating something.
-Romie