Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Brannon Braga Confesses

There it is in black and white. During a 24 panel, Brannon confessed to killing Star Trek.

Maybe now some of the people who haven't healed yet can begin to.


Why does it bother me when people recognize my Trekkieness? I got this tattoo for a reason after all. This morning when I was waiting for the bus, a woman approached me. "Oh, you like Star Track," she said. "That's so cool. I love Star Track."

Somehow, I wasn't convinced, and I hate it when people over the age of ten say Star Track. Until then I figure it's forgiveable.

She continued trying to make small talk. The bus was late and I hadn't had my coffee. My grim outlook on life in general from my lack of caffeine did not deter her in the slightest. I wanted to be really nasty and tell her to shut the bleep up, but I see this woman waiting for the bus every day and somehow that didn't seem conducive to good neighbor relations. So instead I just stared in a direction that was not hers and grunted occasionally, playing up the no-caffeine thing, which did not take much work. She prattled on about the weather and Star Track and how they made a new movie, or maybe a TV show, she wasn't sure.

The bus arrived and I let her get on first so I wouldn't have to sit by her.

I transferred to the MAX and while I was sitting there with my computer, playing NetHack like a nerd should, I notice this guy trying to maneuver into my line of sight. Trying really hard. He gets to where he knows I can see him and flashes me a Live Long and Prosper! I kid you not!

Now what this says to me is that this stranger has been staring at my boobs.

Which is stupid, I mean I got this tattoo where I got it for a reason. It's where it would be were I wearing a uniform, which I'm not. I'm not that chick on Trekkies whose boss lets her wear her uniform to work. That's just nuts. You have to live in the real world sometimes, sorry. So anyway, that's when it hits me why this annoys me so much. I do live in the real world. I work hard to stay here. I play normal sometimes and I have a job where people come to me for my expertise on something normal and not Star Trek. I fit in with my friends, most of whom aren't Trekkies (although some are nerds) I have a boyfriend (who is a nerd, but has also learned to live in the rest of the world too) and I like it here. It's a delicate balance between compromising who you are and coexisting with the rest of the planet.

So when someone pulls me apart from them, comments on my obvious Trekkieness, suddenly I know that they see me as other, unique. I don't have any identity here. At work, I am Gillian the Bra Knowledge Person, and my tattoo shows but that's okay because it helps to demonstrate the uses of lingere tape. At home, I am just Gillian and I don't have to be anyone else so who cares about my tattoo. No one even mentions it, although they do mention Star Trek. So what? I take notes on Star Trek for fun, for crying out loud. It's allowed there.

But here, I'm just the chick with the tattoo on her boob, being noticed for my association with a TV show. The worst part is that these people are trying to be nice, trying to include me, but they just point out my obvious isolation without meaning to. If John Travolta hijacked this train today, I wouldn't be the passenger in the background, I'd be the one that stands out. My function in the plot is to give the crowd a face with my quirkiness.

And now I just realized that I never should have seen Pelham 123.