Infinite velocity

I've finished reading Gina L. Dartt's Just Between series and her Millenium series (70 fics in total - each one epic novella length) and now I'm feeling utterly depressed that there isn't any more. I guess this is what withdrawal feels like.

There's also this larger feeling of something ending, which is also depressing, because I remember reading these back in 2002 when I was first getting into Star Trek, and it feels like an eon ago.  It's also weird how much these particular fics have changed my life.  My Star Trek obsession began right here.  Although, the overall picture went kind of like this: Xena fan fiction --> B.L. Miller --> Gina L. Dartt --> Star Trek fan fiction (J/7) --> Star Trek fan fiction (T/7) --> VJB mailing list --> meeting people who would end up shaping so much of my life for the next several years. All my best online friends have been either a direct result of Xena and then Voyager fandoms. Hmm, I'm not really sure where I'm going with this line of thought. Anyway, I hate it when things end. :-/

In completely unrelated news... I recently read this bit of advice on some random lesbian blog regarding activating your gaydar: "I assume that every woman I meet is either gay or at least bi until proven otherwise. That way I don’t close the door to any opportunities that might present themselves." On my way to uni the other day, I was feeling pretty upbeat due to finally breaking the transwarp barrier so I was totally ready to activate my gaydar and go for the kill (figuratively). So I got on the tram and by complete coincidence found myself sitting next to two moderately attractive girls who looked SO GAY. I think I spent the entire trip trying not to smile because they were just... SO GAY. Eventually one got off, but not before kissing the other, at which point I felt internally very smug about the accuracy of my gaydar. Very smug indeed.

Grandma

Mum just came into my room, crying.  All she said was "Grandma's gone".  I guess I knew this was coming since she's old, and she's been having problems with her heart for a while.  I'm not really sure what to feel.  I don't actually feel much of anything yet, which makes me feel guilty.

I lived with my grandparents up until I was five, but I don't remember that period of my life very well.  I do remember I used to watch a Japanese show called "Kasai" or something on the TV in her room with my cousin.  And I remember this one time she gave me the last biscuit crumbs from a packet of biscuits, which probably doesn't sound like much, but for some reason it left an impression. 

When I was nine, Grandma came to Australia for six months to visit.  I remember bouncing a (soft squishy) ball off Rianna's head and getting yelled at by Grandma because she said it would make her dumb.  Rianna had just been born and Mum was too busy to take Grandma out sightseeing.  To this day Mum regrets not doing more things with Grandma while she was here. 

After she went back to China, I didn't see her again until 2007 when I was in China for a few days.  We had lunch at her house, and made stilted, awkward conversation because even though she could speak English better than my parents, there was still a world and a lifetime between us.  I remember that during the lunch, she told me about the Russians that had rented the first two floors of our house sometime during the 1950s and 60s.  I remember wanting to ask what their names were, but never got the chance to.  Since then, I've talked to her a couple of times on the phone but it's always been awkward because I never know what to say to her, and she usually just tells me to cherish my youth, and to be happy while I'm young and healthy, which increases the awkwardness because I know it's because she's old and unhappy, and all I can say in return is "Yes, Grandma."

Mum's going to try and book a flight back to China tomorrow to go to the funeral.  Since Dad just left yesterday as well, it's going to be just me and Rianna for a while.