Title: "The Identity of an Avatar" by the Blue-Haired Goddess

bluehairedgoddess@tenchiclub.com

An introspective SI non-fic about avatars, identities and anime idols.

Subject: misc. 03/23/02. 11:23 PM

DISCLAIMER: Although I am writing this story in part about characters

appearing in PIONEER/AIC's TENCHI series, I do not own any Tenchi

-related characters in *any* of their incarnations. As I've said,

PIONEER/AIC owns them. I own the obsession that keeps me up half

the night, but that's another story. Or maybe it's not....Legal folks, please

do not sue me, I make no money from this.

All of us have our idols. All of us have our favorite anime with which we

pick our favorite or ideal avatars. At least, all of us "true" otaku do. We

like where our anime takes us (to a fantasy world that is ours or

otherwise, but nonetheless away from our realities), and for a lot of us--

the ones that devote the most detailed sites, hundreds of dollars and

thousands of hours to our passion--choosing an avatar is easy. As it is

almost laughable how some characters from fiction are carbon copies of

our real selves. Some would call that stereotyping. And the rest of us--

the stereotypes themselves--may feel otherwise.

I am a Goddess. At least, on the web I am a Goddess. Some may

know my true name. Others may not care. But for this otaku-girl, a name

is everything, and so she has choosen to be a Goddess, and here I am.

And so I was "created". And I am not crazy, I know that I am not

really this Blue-Haired Goddess that I claim to be. But for those few

minutes or hours that I log on, at the computer with my soul online, I feel

that I really am. But I have decieved myself.

I saw my temper, felt my passion, and identified with my favorite

"person". As I said, we all do. She came from a hard life, a colorful

world, possibly a billion miles away. She is tough as nails, loud, brash,

and way too oververt. She is a would-be suductress, if only her subject

weren't so...*indecisive*! She has powder-blue hair (some would consider it

cyan), golden cat-like eyes and packs a *really* mean punch. She is the

20th (and 21st) century's Shrew, as Kate was to Petruchio and good ol'

Shakespere.

She has lived for eons, and will continue to live on in otakus hearts for

years after the video disc or video cassette stops working. New people

of a younger generation will seek out this anime craze whether the craze

is waning or increasing, there will at least be a few. and they will feel the

same, and identify themselves. But I digress.

I thought I knew myself. I thought that I had made an accurate

identification through stereotypes. But this author was wrong. Wrong

about myself, and this--this self-inserted rant--is now my apology to the

world. I am not who I say.

I wonder how many of us (and I am no longer just speaking of otakus)

who have an opportunity to create a name for ourselves misjudge who we

really are. Or who we are seen as. And instead pick names for ourselves

that may very well get us into trouble? Again, I confess: I am no Goddess.

Who am I really? Who is this author who has hardly written anything,

save for a poem, a rant and a lot of unfinished works? I am the worst, the

least favorite and the unbearably, unfortunately annoying bubbly and bouncy

bundle of *unwanted* energy. And it hurts. I am a blonde. And not really.

I know that it is unfair to all of those amazingly intellegent natural blondes

out there who *do* have twice the wit that I do. So let me further correct

myself: I am *the* Blonde. *That* Blonde, which is the only Blonde you

can think of when refering to this anime (Tenchi Muyo). I am the klutsy,

clueless, and compulsive chatterbox that is known as "Mihoshi". And with

such an identity crisis, have I painted myself into a corner? I can go on. I

can go on and on about how in real life this Goddess has tripped over her

own two feet, down the stairs, and managed to burn water in the process.

Always well-intentioned, and always two minutes too late to the punchline

to a joke. A cry-baby and a dependant. And it's funny, because "Mihoshi"

*is* probably very intellegent--in her own way, and on her own time. I read

somewhere, something that is a somewhat tragic, but mostly and accurate

obsurdity that describes the Blonde perfectly. Attention Deficit Disorder.

Yes, I read in a fan site, but secretly knew it to begin with, that Ms.

Kuramitzu possibly has attention deficit disorder. I had known all along,

because I *have* ADD.

It started as just a joke, really. A mostly light-hearted, sarchastic remark

made by a web friend in a chat. I said something silly, and the answer he

gave me was, "Okay, Mihoshi." And though I laughed (or LOL'd) cluelessly,

I secretly screamed because I know it is true, and he shouldn't have known.

Or he shouldn't have believed. I never told him, not then at least, and it felt

just so annoying. Like I said before: it hurt. And no one knows. Those who

know don't understand, or use it as a joke. My identity could never be

anything but myself anyplace outside the net. For on the net, I don't have to

talk. I don't have to answer. I take my time forming words on "paper"and

because no one can here my hyper intonations, how I frequently slip into

valley speak (totally), and ramble on and on, and because I don't constantly

(or not as constantly) ask people to repeat themselves or what does this

mean, or "did it--wasn't it this way?", they'll never know. So on the web I

am a Goddess. But my identity is coming apart. Unraveling like my hair in

it's bun. It's too thick to stay up. The people who I live with, they laugh

alot, mostly at me. And meanwhile I have a choice: To publically admit

who I am not, or to privately try to become what I am not. It may be more

distructive than what I already am. Mihoshi, you're too smart for this.

But all I wanted to do was confess.

And my logical half, my "partner" wants me of the internet now, wants to

relax, I guess. And muttering how I can confuse "Hot Pockets" with "hot

dogs." Oops. I didn't *mean* to. Cinching my hair tighter into its pony tail

and retying my red ribbon, I make sure to save this file before logging off...

____________________________________________________________

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Author's Notes: Well, I didn't mean this to turn into a journal entry, it just sort

of happened. For those of you who read all the way though it, I thank you. My

appologies for it not being true fiction. Questions, comments, or flames (though

how can you flame a non-fic fic??!) just send 'em my way, I LOOOVE e-mail!!

Also, if you're looking for someone to be co-author for a fic idea, I am interested.

Tried several times on forums, but no one seems to want to actually write an

*ending* to any of them. No offense to the wonderful people who I have written

with. And special thanks to Addy Oki's site "Mihoshi's Hideaway 5", which is the

one place I've seen describing Mihoshi having ADD. ADD is a real thing, and I

really do have it. It's a pain, mostly because it makes me inherantly weird and I

have no meds, but at least it makes me creative.

^_~ Always,

Blue.