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I am not perfect, and well and often am I reminded of it. I have been called abrasive, condescending, exhausting, bitter, obnoxious, ungrateful. A cunt. A bitch. A regret. A waste of air. I have been invited to kill myself. To just go away and die. I have been told no one will ever love or desire me, and that I will die alone and be forgotten. These words have hurt, often deeply, and each has left its scar, but I have done my best to live with them, to put my feet on the floor and press on in weary defiance of them.
Until today. Today, I am out of defiance. Today, I am just tired.
Today, a Tumblr acquaintance and I were talking about Karl Urban and his current nasty habit of canceling cons with very little notice. Earlier this week, he canceled a date at Fedcon in Germany...and promptly signed on for Wizard World Philly the same weekend. Fedcon fans were understandably hurt and angry, and the acquaintance was one of those disappointed. She's been torqued since it happened, and I can't blame her. I know how badly it sucks to look forward to a happy meeting, only to have it ripped away after weeks or months of imagining how it will go. He's canceled three times on cons I planned to attend for him, and I sulked every time. It's human, and disappointment rarely presents us at our best. So I can't fault the pique.
But after days of her stewing and petty meme-posting calling him a dick and not a man for canceling on Fedcon because the studio called him in to begin filming in Philadelphia, I finally stuck my oar in the water and suggested that he had no choice but to cancel because work comes first, and that maybe he took the Philly con dates because a huge chunk of the LOTR cast was going to be there and he saw a chance to make dosh, meet fans, hang with friends and fulfill his professional commitments.
Nope. Somehow taking that con after professional obligations made him bail on Fedcon was an insult to the fans who had paid hundreds or thousands of dollars to see him. He should have nobly declined the opportunity presented by Wizard World Philly and the chance to see his friends and make some side bank in deference to those fans in Germany who wouldn't have seen him anyway because work beckoned.
When I pointed out that he had to work, she claimed that was a lie. Was he shooting in Philadelphia at the time in question? Well, yes, but he was still a filthy, heartless liar because he'd told Fedcon he'd be shooting then. Did she not tell me herself as a film student that most films shot Monday through Friday, which meant that theoretically, he would be available Saturday and Sunday? Well, yes, but that only proved that he could've made Germany if he really wanted to. If he truly gave a fuck about his fans, he should've left immediately after shooting on Friday, taken a nine-hour flight to Germany, gone without sleep if need be because hey, that's what actors do, spent a handful of hours at the con on Saturday, and then gone right back to Philadelphia.
While I boggled at the sheer selfishness of this crackpot scenario, I tried to tell her that such a schedule was predicated on nothing going wrong, and it was also incredibly cruel. Did she really want to meet someone who hadn't slept? And then I uttered what I suspect were the fatal words. "He had to WORK. You're acting like he went to Aruba just to piss on you."
And then it came. This young woman, with whom I had been on cordial terms, and who had previously used my experience with Karl as part of her appreciation video, exploded. She told me that my fondness for him had clouded my judgment, and that furthermore, the experience I so cherished, that has cheered me on bad days, was a front. Karl was an actor. Was I really so naive to think he actually cared? Actors at cons don't care. They just want the money. I could live in my Karl Urban fantasy world, but she was "done with me." And that was that. Blocked.
She's not wrong. He is an actor, and it's no great leap that he was on his best behavior because he was being paid, but there was no need for her to piss on a moment that brought me comfort and joy, my little light in the dark. There was no need to imply that it was pity that moved him. I will never forgive that, and should life bring her sorrow, I will not weep.
People are terrible, and I am tired of trying.
Until today. Today, I am out of defiance. Today, I am just tired.
Today, a Tumblr acquaintance and I were talking about Karl Urban and his current nasty habit of canceling cons with very little notice. Earlier this week, he canceled a date at Fedcon in Germany...and promptly signed on for Wizard World Philly the same weekend. Fedcon fans were understandably hurt and angry, and the acquaintance was one of those disappointed. She's been torqued since it happened, and I can't blame her. I know how badly it sucks to look forward to a happy meeting, only to have it ripped away after weeks or months of imagining how it will go. He's canceled three times on cons I planned to attend for him, and I sulked every time. It's human, and disappointment rarely presents us at our best. So I can't fault the pique.
But after days of her stewing and petty meme-posting calling him a dick and not a man for canceling on Fedcon because the studio called him in to begin filming in Philadelphia, I finally stuck my oar in the water and suggested that he had no choice but to cancel because work comes first, and that maybe he took the Philly con dates because a huge chunk of the LOTR cast was going to be there and he saw a chance to make dosh, meet fans, hang with friends and fulfill his professional commitments.
Nope. Somehow taking that con after professional obligations made him bail on Fedcon was an insult to the fans who had paid hundreds or thousands of dollars to see him. He should have nobly declined the opportunity presented by Wizard World Philly and the chance to see his friends and make some side bank in deference to those fans in Germany who wouldn't have seen him anyway because work beckoned.
When I pointed out that he had to work, she claimed that was a lie. Was he shooting in Philadelphia at the time in question? Well, yes, but he was still a filthy, heartless liar because he'd told Fedcon he'd be shooting then. Did she not tell me herself as a film student that most films shot Monday through Friday, which meant that theoretically, he would be available Saturday and Sunday? Well, yes, but that only proved that he could've made Germany if he really wanted to. If he truly gave a fuck about his fans, he should've left immediately after shooting on Friday, taken a nine-hour flight to Germany, gone without sleep if need be because hey, that's what actors do, spent a handful of hours at the con on Saturday, and then gone right back to Philadelphia.
While I boggled at the sheer selfishness of this crackpot scenario, I tried to tell her that such a schedule was predicated on nothing going wrong, and it was also incredibly cruel. Did she really want to meet someone who hadn't slept? And then I uttered what I suspect were the fatal words. "He had to WORK. You're acting like he went to Aruba just to piss on you."
And then it came. This young woman, with whom I had been on cordial terms, and who had previously used my experience with Karl as part of her appreciation video, exploded. She told me that my fondness for him had clouded my judgment, and that furthermore, the experience I so cherished, that has cheered me on bad days, was a front. Karl was an actor. Was I really so naive to think he actually cared? Actors at cons don't care. They just want the money. I could live in my Karl Urban fantasy world, but she was "done with me." And that was that. Blocked.
She's not wrong. He is an actor, and it's no great leap that he was on his best behavior because he was being paid, but there was no need for her to piss on a moment that brought me comfort and joy, my little light in the dark. There was no need to imply that it was pity that moved him. I will never forgive that, and should life bring her sorrow, I will not weep.
People are terrible, and I am tired of trying.
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