People always say you should actively live your own life, not passively experience life through others. It's such a commonly held belief that it is often regarded as an obvious fact, a truth universally acknowledged. I, of course, believe this as well–what sane person wouldn't?–but I also secretly love living my vicarious life. Like otaku, or bored housewives in suburbia, or the creepy, balding, middle-aged guys who live in their parents' basements and play video games all day, I have a hidden life that takes place in books, in films, on television, and online, and it is so much more exciting and vibrant than my day-to-day existence.
Don't be so shocked, Unknown Reader. The name GeekMom kind of gives it away, doesn't it? I'm geeky and nerdy, and we geeks and nerds don't often mix well with normal people. I say the wrong things, forget to acknowledge people, enthuse about the wrong topics, go in for a hug at the wrong moment, or flinch when other people hug me unexpectedly. I frequently embarrass my children with my odd behavior (Well, I do have a teenager and they're embarrassed even by normal parents, so that doesn't really count).
For instance, I keep up a running conversation with other cars on the road when I'm driving ("Oh, nice move, Mr. Toyota, thanks for pulling in front of me without signalling" "Hey, Lady, get off your cell phone–the light has changed and we're all waiting for you!" "La la la, I'm driving an SUV so I can take up half of your lane as well as my own!"), and this is a great embarrassment for my 10-year-old daughter. She turns to her friend and says, "Don't pay any attention to Mama. She always talks to other cars. I've learned to live with it." Then she gives a tiny sigh. Poor child, how she suffers!
Okay, end of digression. The truth is, I'm usually uncomfortable around normal people. I'm terrible at parties. When I was in high school and college, I used to hang out by the potato chip bowl (Why is there always a big bowl of potato chips at parties? Is it some sort of party requirement? Must remember to Google this), steadily eating one chip after another while successfully avoiding all conversation. Also, since I don't really like drinking much, I can't even use that to loosen up. Though I really needed a drink after all those salty chips.
As a fifty-year old divorcee who doesn't have full-time work and has primary custody of a pre-teen daughter and a teenage son, a dog, and several cats, my life is fairly routine. Not a lot of excitement there. So what is the solution to add a little zip to my life? Vicarious living! Hurrah!
My favorite source of vicarious living is books. Charles Dickens is great for vicarious living, as are Michael Ondaatje, Kate Atkinson, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dorothy Sayers, J.R.R. Tolkien, and J.K. Rowling (the Harry Potter series--I haven't read The Casual Vacancy yet). For vicarious romance, however, nothing beats Jane Austen. That Mr. Darcy! That Captain Wentworth! Mr. Ferrars and Colonel Brandon! Swoon! (At this point, I have probably alienated all of my heterosexual male readers. Don't worry, guys, I'll talk about Star Trek and Doctor Who and Dune in a later post!)
The point is, I get all the thrill of romantic tension, the fluttery feelings, the doubts ("Does he love me?"), the triumphs ("He does!"), the promise of future bliss ("Reader, I married him." Yes, I know that's Bronte, not Austen, she remarked testily), and the warm afterglow as I close the book.
All that without the guy leaving his dirty socks on the bedroom floor, toothpaste globs in the bathroom sink, or the New York Times scattered all across the room, with the crossword half filled out, incorrectly, in pen. Not that Mr. Darcy would ever do any of those things! In any case, I've come to terms with the fact that all my ideal men were invented by women writers, and are thus unlikely to be found anywhere in the real world. So why not love as well as live vicariously?
Then, of course, there are movies. All Jane Austen novels have been made into movies (including some that probably shouldn't have been–does anyone really need a film version of Northanger Abbey?), and there are so many other worlds to disappear into. And there are television series. Wish you were involved in politics and great affairs of state? Watch "The West Wing"! Wish you were a spy? Watch "MI-5" ("Spooks" in the U.K.)! Wish you were brilliant and could solve baffling crimes? Watch "Sherlock"! Wish you were brilliant and could solve mysterious ailments? Watch "House"! Wish you descended from English nobility? Watch "Downton Abbey" or "Upstairs, Downstairs"! The ways of escaping your mundane existence are myriad. I won't even go into the Internet and vlog channels at this point, because my post is getting much too long, according to my blogging mentor, who thinks my paragraphs are too long as well. I'll save some thoughts for future posts. In the meantime, Mr. Darcy and I are meeting for coffee, so I have to go.
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