I don't write much.
English is my first (and only, thank you 9 years of french class) language,and it sometimes feels like I'm not even fluent in that. This is my first blog and I have no idea to write about. If let to my own devices this will be a blog post about that freakin Elite Four member with his stupid psychic pokemon and when did he have the time to get them all up to level 60? and it's not like I even know what's strong against them (other psychic pokemon? bugs??) and seriously, I've restarted like 5 times throw me a goddamn bone...
Anyway, it's not like I play that game or anything. Pfft.
Oh, I've got something to talk about. If I continue writing this and you continue reading it we'll all have to come to terms with my unhealthy fascination with star wars. Both the fantasy movie with the, uh, monsters and the Strategic Defense Initiative. Guys, I totally didn't steal that line from anything, just so you know.
I completely fell in love with the franchise when (*spoilers*) HAN SOLO WAS BADASS AT EVERYTHING. Well, that's not true, I think I loved Alec Guiness first, but I think I knew, deep down at 6 that he'd be on bed rest by the time I reached double digits. But Han Solo was pretty fantastic too, and you know what, I can settle.
My love for the star wars series has barely dwindled in that time, just changed. At 6 I was having tea parties with yoda and at 20 I'm planning drinking parties to Backstroke of the West. The only thing that hasn't changed at all over those 14 years is the amount I look up to Princess Leia.
I wanted to be her. Hell, I still want to be her.
I wanted the adventure, the blaster skills, the dodgy hairstyles, the stubborn spirit, the sharp wit. I wanted the oppertunity to risk my life to say the galaxy and win the love of a rouge (yet charming) scruffy looking nerf herder with a classic ship.
I never became a "Leia" in real life. I didn't grow up nearly escaping death. I'm pretty much 120% certain I couldn't pull off a gold bikini. I don't worry about political agendas, how to navigate asteroid fields, or if that moon is everything I think it is.
Hell, the most rebellious I've ever been is that time I wore white socks instead of the black regulation socks with my high school uniform.
I live in near constant fear that I'm going to be out of a job, that my grades aren't good enough, that my car is finally going to die on me, that I'm never going to catch them all, and that I'll drop my cell phone in a puddle again.
So, I'm not a Leia. I'm not a Luke, or a Padme, or even a R2-D2. I could probably run for the spot of a C3-PO though. He's not even the coolest of the droids. I don't even particularly like him. But I can appreciate him. In the real world he's the one who's going to keep copies of assignments, because the first one always gets mysteriously misplaced right before you hand it in. He's the one making sure all the household money isn't being spent on wicked cool tools because there are "Bills".He's going to keep a stash of bandaids, just in case. He's the one stressing out when he can't find the car keys. He's the one who just wants his friends safe and in one piece. Sure, he's annoying, whiny and a complete wet blanket. But he's pratical. C3-POs aren't the life of the party, but they are the ones getting you home safe after you are (the odds of successfully jumping off that roof without breaking your ankle are approximately 3270 to 1!).
Or you know, HK-47. Cause C3-PO's primary function isn't to brun holes through organic meatbags throughout the galaxy.
Which is something I can relate to
