Who is She at Home?

The Why of Plummie

         Someone once asked me, "Plummie? What are you really like? Do you act the why you do in our chats as at home?" I promised to do a write-up about myself that would answer that question. It's been three years and I just finally remembered that I never gave her an answer…and I only remembered 'cause I got an email a month ago saying "Hey, bitch, you never answered my question. And update Castaway already. Damn!"

         Ehhh…so, here it is. THE WHY OF PLUMMIE!!!!!!!! (Exclamation points make it exciting, yes?)

         Okay, to start off…Ripe Wicked Plum, Wicked Plum, RWP, Plummie, etc., is my secret identity. You know…my Bruce Wayne, my Clark Kent and all that jazz. When I'm at home, unless I'm really drunk, I'm just plain old Noel. When I don my 'Plummie' costume…I'm freakin' nuts. Seriously. If I said or did half the shit I do as 'Plummie,' people would think I was out of my damn mind. As in the following examples.

SAYING RANDOM ASS SHIT

         For example, as Plummie, I could say something like this:

Plummie: I am the Virgin Bride of Sataannnn! Do not mock me or I shall make flaming chocolate milk shoot out of your noooosseeeee! I like candy! WHEE!

         Now, as 'Noel', I could not say that to, for example, my boss, as in this example:

Noel: I am the Virgin Bride of Sataannnn! Do not mock me or I shall make flaming chocolate milk shoot out of your noooosseeeee! I like candy! WHEE!

Big Boss Lady: You're fired and you need some medication.*

*Notice the lack of flaming chocolate milk here. That is because, as Plummie, I can will flaming chocolate milk to shoot of your nose. That is my special power. When I'm in my secret identity, obviously, I can't do that. Because then people would know who I am. That's not good. Or so all the comic books tell me. They also say if I put on glasses, no one will know who I am. Tried using that trick on my mom…didn't work too good. She still knew who lit the cat on fire when I took my glasses off. Damn.

         Now, as Plummie, anyone who has talked to me online can attest to the fact that I do frequently say random ass shit like that. Hell…I even post it on my site (See 3 AM Thoughts). As Noel…well…I do still say random ass shit…but not so random that I'm forced on Ritalin or anything. As Noel, the most random thing I usually say is:

Noel: I wonder…do chickens really do the Chicken Dance? Or is that supposed to be some kind of representation of their final death rattle? Does that mean the Chicken Dance is meant to represent their final journey to Valhalla? (Yes, chickens are really Norse. Trust me, I've read it in the chicken equivalent of the Bible.)

         Notice how the random ass shit here transcends from being merely random to sounding almost…intelligent? Yeah…as Plummie, I don't do that. It would be more like this:

Plummie: I wonder…do chickens really do the Chicken Dance? Or is that supposed to be some kind of representation of their final death rattle? And did you know that chicken blood can get out those stains in your toilet that most household cleaners miss? BUY CHICKEN BLOOD TOILET CLEANER NOW!!! CLICK ME! CLICK ME! CLICK ME!

         I hope those examples of Random Ass Shit I say are helpful in determining the difference between Plummie and Noel. Now, moving onto 'Doing Random Ass Shit.'

DOING RANDOM ASS SHIT (Told ya)

         Okay, for a good example of stuff that Noel will not do, but Plummie will, I will use my trip to the Shore Leave in Maryland as an example.

         In real life, I don't like being touched, especially by strangers. You touch me, you die. That's the way it works. Also, I don't like talking to people. I hate you, I hate you, all people need to die. Yes, I'm antisocial…but I'm a repressed virgin who writes Buffy/Spike porn…are you really that surprised? Hell…if it weren't for lack of funds and a hatred of coffee, I'd be wearing all black, have my hair dyed black and sit in a coffee shop all day, whining about conformists and how Mr. Jiffy Lube is representative of the American Capitalist Pill-Popper Culture. Well, that, and the fact Goths are conformist too. (Yes, I said it. Goths conform to their Goth culture. And coffee SUCKS! You can send flames here

         However, at Shore Leave, if any of my friends had been there, they would have been really shocked about the abrupt change in my personality. People recognized me and I got reallllyyy giddy. I mean…cheerleader on crack giddy. I was running around, hugging people, grabbing random people (And Darcy) and dancing around the room with them. To my eternal regret, there are pictures on the web of me doing that. Every time someone said "I loved that story you did…blah blah blah…" I hugged them, said I loved them…and I think I may have volunteered to have someone's love child. I can't remember who, but they never got back to me on that. Bastard. Oh…and…I…DID…KAROKE…

         Let me repeat that, in case you missed it.

         I DID KAROKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(Exclamation points translate to: the horror! THE HORROR!)

         And it was too that showgirl song. You know the one. "Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl…blah blah blippity blah…"

         Kill me NOW!

         Okay, now, Noel? Antisocial little bitch? She won't do that shit. Especially in front of actual people. Noel will spin around in her room and singing shit from 'Moulin Rouge' will naked and playing with a samurai sword…but singing in front of people? Girl don't go there. I wasn't even DRUNK at the time. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time, but that's not something I would EVER do, normally.

         Unfortunately, at Shore Leave, Plummie had a life of her own, a personality of her own and it was the first time I realized that Noel and Plummie were two distinctly different people. It took me a hell of a long time after that to get up the courage to start writing in fanfiction again. Imagine…you have 2 different people living inside your body, and you never realized it till one fateful weekend, when a group of friends went to a cabin and then the BLOOD STARTED TO RUN! (Oh…wait…I think that's Evil Dead. Hmmm…back on topic!) Anyway…it was a pretty shocking realization, but I came to terms since then that Plummie and Noel are different…and I have a LOT of fun with it too. Mwhehehehehehehehehe! <-evil laughter does not transfer well to paper or computer screen.

         Good thing that Plummie and Noel have some stuff in common, or things would've gotten messy. For example, we both love Spike, we both love BtVS, we both think Angel's a dork, and we both love to fuck with people. (I.E. Scaring little old ladies and the ending to Pride and Prejudice). Aww…sweet evil manipulations, how well do we love thee.

BUT WHY HAVE A SECRET IDENTITY IN THE FIRST PLACE?

         Number Uno: Stalkers. I've had them, and okay, they weren't related to my fanfiction in anyway, but they still SUCK. Plus, don't really want random people showing up on my doorstep and saying 'Yo, whore! Where's Castaway, goddammit!' (It's been threatened, believe me.)

         Number…Twono…: Hellloooooooo! I write porn! On the off-chance that my grandparents figure out how to use a computer and initiate a web search for Noel ----, I don't want them coming up with, oh, let's say…'Dedication'. Yeah…sex in a Catholic Church, in front of a priest, and crotchless panties. EXACTLY what I want my grandparents to find. (Incidentally, after all that careful work of MAKING UP another person to get all the porn-blame for, you'd think I'd remember to cut out my automatic website link on my monthly email to Grams. Yeah…I'm a friggin' idiot. THAT was an awkward phone call, let me tell ya…)

         Number Three (Screw the Uno Crap): Again…I write porn. Future English teacher here. Not something I want listed in my background checks, capiche? I can see my job interview going a little something like this…

Faceless School Interviewer Guy: Well, I see you have stellar grades in college, and…oh! It seems that the evil government background check we conducted without your prior knowledge has turned up some writings you posted on the web a couple years ago…

Noel: So…umm…can…I start on Monday molding those impressionable young minds?

         Yeah. See what I mean? NOT GOOD! I want to actually be employed one of these days. So, secret identity gooodd….tracing back porn to Noel at later date…baddddd!

IN CONCLUSION

         So, as you can see in the above examples, my secret identity is critical to my success as a writer. Otherwise, I would never have gotten off the ground. I knew as soon as I posted my first stories (Tiger Eyes and Puck), these things couldn't come back and haunt me. No one wants their kid being taught by that chick who wrote web-porn.

         Also, Plummie definitely appeals to her fans a lot more than Noel ever would. Plummie is fun, she does weird shit and she writes happy-happy porn! Noel is a virgin prude who wouldn't know what to do with a penis if you shoved one in her face. Plummie's a big slut, and Noel is a big prude. No one wants a prude writing their porn. It's just not fun. Plus, Plummie is a hell of a lot more social than Noel. If Noel ruled the roost, no fan would ever talk to her and I would be hiding in my closet with a laptop and a boxful of twinkies and spend my days writing Goth poetry. No one wants that, right? Plummie, on the other hand, loves going online, talking to people whenever she can and saying weird ass shit just to see what other people will do or say. Plummie also tells Noel to say 'fuck school, let's write more porn and then go on an Angel/Buffy site and post 'Spike + Buffy = 4-Eva' a million times in their guest-books.' Plummie is also kind of a bitch, but at least she's a fun bitch, which is more than can be said of Noel.

         So, that's the fundamental differencecs between Noel and Plummie. Hope this was informational…if it wasn't, Plummie says, 'Awww…I'm sorry. I love you. Write feedback! Make me do happy-happy dances!' and Noel says 'Fuck this shit, I'm going to go get some cookies.'

         Yours faithfully,

              Noel and Plummie

         If you don't hate me yet, JOIN MY FANLISTING! YAY! SINFULLY DELICIOUS

WICKED PLUM'S TURN ONS AND OFFS

MY TURN ONS:

James Marsters

Spike's leather jacket, (I love that thing!)

Scott Cohen...you know, Wolf?  Tenth

Kingdom?  PLease don't tell me I'm the only one who watched that!

Hugh Jackman...all right...anyone Australian with a nice butt.  (Hello, Mel...)

English BadBoys with Billy Idol Fixations

Fangs

Platinum blond hair...all right...that goes with Billy Idol fixations

English, Irish, Australian accents.  Sorry, but Canadian just doesn't cut it

Cute Butts and hard pecs...I admit, I'm a chest and butt girl.  

Punk Rock

Jonathan's Sex Kittens...whoa!   Where did that come from?

Buffy...I mean the show!  Get your mind outta of the gutter!

Guys who can chant in archaic, dead languages that I think never really existed.

Leather (Seriously...you have to check out my wardrobe!)

Anyone who can burn Buffy Eppies off the internet.

Guys who know how to use a stake.  (Uh...now that I think about that...that doesn't sound too good...)

Poetry

Music-no real set kind, love guitars, pianos, etc.

I love to draw...just not real good at it.

Love writing...well...duh...considering this is mainly a fanfic page!

Frat Parties...but only when drinking doesn't result in snake or cave people!

Guys in tight little speedos.  (He he...one of my fave eps...)

Black nail polish

Clothes that turn people into ghosts, army guys but not weak little girls.

Crossover with X-Files...never going to happen...but hey, I can dream.

Guys that can draw (PS...what's with Buff's obsessive killer vampire lovers and drawing her when she's sleeping?  Girl, get some blinds on your window!

Black cars that smash through signs

MY TURN OFFS:

Teacher's that can make their head do a 360.

Ice Skating...well...it's hard to balance!

Classes where teachers write, "Don't you walk away from me, Bitch!" For seemingly no reason.

Invisible people

People who laugh a lot and eat school mascots (Not to mention Prinicpals...but wait...that might be a turn on!)

Bug People...don't matter which...if there's bugs involved, it's bound to be bad.

Dead people stuffed in lockers

Ghost Masks...and hello!  Buffy so could have kicked that stupid Scream guy's ass!

Vampires who chain potentially mates in basement of creepy crypt...oops...sorry, that's a turn-on

Snot monster from Outer Space

Riley Finn

Army guys who put chips in sexy people's brains

Giles in Fish net stockings...nuff said.  (Rocky Horror Picture Show 25th anni...just so you know I'm not totally insane.)

Sunnydale Police Force...you think someone would notice that the teen death rates a wee bit bigger then normal!

Wesley-On Buffy, on Angel, he's kinda of cool.

Whoever the hell thought it was a good idea to kill off Doyle!

People who 'accidently' put welcome signs on everything!