I haven't blogged in a goodly while, and while I apologize to my non-existent readership, I can't promise I'll do better. Being employed has taken up more of my time than I expected, leaving me less time to interface with the new wife, which leaves me even less time for personal things like reading, video games, and writing. I haven't had a normal full time job (excluding summer jobs) since 2006, so I'm in unfamiliar territory. I've never been good at time management so a lot of things just don't get the time they deserve, my wife included. Anywho, enough about time, let's talk about time!
That's right, it's New Year's Eve. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. I know it's supposed to be this time of change and renewal, and all that jazz, but anymore it just means I have to remember to write not only a new month but a new year on my checks as well. But I suppose we can do that "year in remembrance" thing.
Twenty-ten was a year of ups and downs. Lots of them. I'd normally say more downs than ups, but considering how well off I am at the moment I'd have to go with ups being at least equal to downs, if not pulling ahead. In terms of change, the ups take it hands down, but it was a come from behind victory. I'd list actual events, but I have no concept of time at all, and coupled with my notoriously bad memory, I can't remember when shit actually happened, how it happened, and if it happened at all. (Pro Tip: Make up a bullshit story about me owing you a favor and chances are I'll buy it just because I assume that I forgot all about it.)
As for the year to come, well I'm not really sure what to expect. A bigger apartment would be nice, but that will cost more. Having a child would be fucking awesome, but that too costs more. And both, well that would just about bankrupt my ass despite the latter requiring the former. Really, all I hope to accomplish is getting my shit straight and setting Wendy and I on a good track forward. Our future goals are well within grasp if we can just keep our shit together long enough to obtain them. You want a New Year's resolution? How about making a long term life plan and sticking to it. That's my resolution.
On a related note, I'm going to take a stand against this middle of winter new year shit. Why not spring? I remember reading somewhere (and I'm sure some of you can confirm/correct me on this) that the beginning of spring used to be when pre-christian folks would celebrate the new year. I like that idea: lots of warmth, regrowth, and new beginnings. So if you really want to celebrate the new year with me, wait 3 or 4 months, then we'll party.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The Most Fucking Retarded Movie...
is Richard Donner's 1978 superhero piece of shit, Superman.
First off, Lois Lane (Margot Kidder) is the ugliest woman in that entire fucking movie, and that includes Martha Kent.
Secondly, Lex Luthor shouldn't be surrounded by morons and incompetents. The man's a filthy rich genius, he can afford better help.
Third, and most fucking important is that I can't stand it when a movie, television show, or whatever doesn't follow it's own rules. You see, every universe has a set of rules that make it work, and the universe of 1978's Superman is no exception. If Superman exists in that universe and his powers function the way they do because of the reasons they give, then fucking awesome. Those are the rules. However, now that you've established those rules, you can't go fucking with them! Logic still has to function, even if it's a logic that includes Superman.
*Spoiler alert, in case you haven't seen a 32 year old movie.*
I'll buy, in the universe of the movie, that the rotation of the Earth is what controls time. It's insane, and makes no fucking sense, but I'll go with it. However, time works like time does. If you spin the Earth to make time reverse, then every fucking thing goes back in time. The car un-crushes, the damn un-collapses, the fissure in the ground seals up. It will even reverse the death of an ugly bitch. What it will fucking not do is allow for Jimmy Fucking Olsen to be in the middle of nowhere, right where Superman left him before he reversed time.
Yes, this entire argument is based on Jimmy Olsen not being at the Hoover Dam. It pissed me off that much.
The dam began to collapse, Superman saves Jimmy, Lois dies, time is reversed, and somehow in that reversal of time, Jimmy Olsen exists in a bubble of unaffected time and remains right where Superman left him. Bull Fucking Shit. Not to mention that if Superman can travel so fucking fast that he can make the fucking planet rotate in the other direction then he can fucking fly fast enough to stop two fucking nuclear missiles.
"But he couldn't fly that fast until the death of Lois pushed him beyond his limits" you say. Fine, fuck you. Then he should have kept time fucking flowing backwards until the missiles hadn't been launched yet then go and fucking stop them. Reversing time just enough to save Lois didn't fucking save the other countless lives that the detonation of a nuclear missile causes, whether directly or indirectly from the ensuing earthquakes. Letting that missile detonate, and possibly killing people in the process, was irresponsible of Superman. Besides, fuck that noise, if he can reverse time then he can go back in time and save Jonathan Kent, or stop Hitler or all sorts of shit. And don't give me that shit about his dad telling him not to fuck with human progress, that's bullshit. Dude's a superhero, if that's not fucking with natural human progress then I don't know what would.
Other than that, not a bad movie. Gene Hackman makes a good Luthor, Reeve made a good Superman, and I kinda liked the character development of Clark/Superman. It was a good film, up until the end. Wipe the last 20 minutes from your memory, make Lois attractive, and give Luthor some descent henchmen and it would be a fucking awesome movie.
Seriously though, that bitch is ugly.
First off, Lois Lane (Margot Kidder) is the ugliest woman in that entire fucking movie, and that includes Martha Kent.
Secondly, Lex Luthor shouldn't be surrounded by morons and incompetents. The man's a filthy rich genius, he can afford better help.
Third, and most fucking important is that I can't stand it when a movie, television show, or whatever doesn't follow it's own rules. You see, every universe has a set of rules that make it work, and the universe of 1978's Superman is no exception. If Superman exists in that universe and his powers function the way they do because of the reasons they give, then fucking awesome. Those are the rules. However, now that you've established those rules, you can't go fucking with them! Logic still has to function, even if it's a logic that includes Superman.
*Spoiler alert, in case you haven't seen a 32 year old movie.*
I'll buy, in the universe of the movie, that the rotation of the Earth is what controls time. It's insane, and makes no fucking sense, but I'll go with it. However, time works like time does. If you spin the Earth to make time reverse, then every fucking thing goes back in time. The car un-crushes, the damn un-collapses, the fissure in the ground seals up. It will even reverse the death of an ugly bitch. What it will fucking not do is allow for Jimmy Fucking Olsen to be in the middle of nowhere, right where Superman left him before he reversed time.
Yes, this entire argument is based on Jimmy Olsen not being at the Hoover Dam. It pissed me off that much.
The dam began to collapse, Superman saves Jimmy, Lois dies, time is reversed, and somehow in that reversal of time, Jimmy Olsen exists in a bubble of unaffected time and remains right where Superman left him. Bull Fucking Shit. Not to mention that if Superman can travel so fucking fast that he can make the fucking planet rotate in the other direction then he can fucking fly fast enough to stop two fucking nuclear missiles.
"But he couldn't fly that fast until the death of Lois pushed him beyond his limits" you say. Fine, fuck you. Then he should have kept time fucking flowing backwards until the missiles hadn't been launched yet then go and fucking stop them. Reversing time just enough to save Lois didn't fucking save the other countless lives that the detonation of a nuclear missile causes, whether directly or indirectly from the ensuing earthquakes. Letting that missile detonate, and possibly killing people in the process, was irresponsible of Superman. Besides, fuck that noise, if he can reverse time then he can go back in time and save Jonathan Kent, or stop Hitler or all sorts of shit. And don't give me that shit about his dad telling him not to fuck with human progress, that's bullshit. Dude's a superhero, if that's not fucking with natural human progress then I don't know what would.
Other than that, not a bad movie. Gene Hackman makes a good Luthor, Reeve made a good Superman, and I kinda liked the character development of Clark/Superman. It was a good film, up until the end. Wipe the last 20 minutes from your memory, make Lois attractive, and give Luthor some descent henchmen and it would be a fucking awesome movie.
Seriously though, that bitch is ugly.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Be Thankful
Yeah, it's on of those "Thanksgiving posts". Deal with it.
I've always been pretty thankful for what I've had in life, even if I couldn't fully appreciate or even truly know what I had. This Thanksgiving is different, I've got a lot to be thankful for (as usual), but the scope of it is enormous.
I'm thankful for my employer and the friend who helped me get the job. You've improved my life immeasurably, giving me not only an income but something to channel my energy into. I also have a lot less stress in my life now that I know where my next meal is coming from (aside from my wife's generosity).
I'm thankful for my sister and niece who have always been there for me, even at their own expense. I will never be able to repay them for their kindness, support and generosity. Seriously though, I know the approximate dollar figure and I probably will never be able to pay it back.
I'm thankful for my parents who, despite their prejudices, attended my heathen wedding. While we almost never see eye to eye, they've always been there to catch me when I fall and remind me that while my head is in the clouds (or up my ass, according to my dad) I should keep my feet firmly on the ground.
I'm thankful for my internet friends who helped me when they had no reason to, other than a shared situation. Your insight and words helped me find happiness.
I'm thankful for my Missoula friends for being my friends and not dismissing me as just "Wendy's boyfriend". I don't make friends easily and it's nice to have them. Your continued tolerance of my stupidity and immaturity astounds me, and I thank you for that.
Most of all I'm thankful to my wife, Wendy. You found me when I was at my lowest, heaviest, poorest, and most pathetic yet still found something to love. You became my first and best friend in this new and foreign place, showed me that somebody could love me for who I am. You gave me a home when I was homeless, food when I was hungry, and companionship when I was lonely. You agreed to marry me despite the fact I had nothing to offer you but my love. I owe you my life, in more ways than one. Thank you, for everything.
This Thanksgiving I'm a very thankful man, and you should be too. Take a good hard look at your life and you'll agree, we all have a lot to be thankful for. :)
I've always been pretty thankful for what I've had in life, even if I couldn't fully appreciate or even truly know what I had. This Thanksgiving is different, I've got a lot to be thankful for (as usual), but the scope of it is enormous.
I'm thankful for my employer and the friend who helped me get the job. You've improved my life immeasurably, giving me not only an income but something to channel my energy into. I also have a lot less stress in my life now that I know where my next meal is coming from (aside from my wife's generosity).
I'm thankful for my sister and niece who have always been there for me, even at their own expense. I will never be able to repay them for their kindness, support and generosity. Seriously though, I know the approximate dollar figure and I probably will never be able to pay it back.
I'm thankful for my parents who, despite their prejudices, attended my heathen wedding. While we almost never see eye to eye, they've always been there to catch me when I fall and remind me that while my head is in the clouds (or up my ass, according to my dad) I should keep my feet firmly on the ground.
I'm thankful for my internet friends who helped me when they had no reason to, other than a shared situation. Your insight and words helped me find happiness.
I'm thankful for my Missoula friends for being my friends and not dismissing me as just "Wendy's boyfriend". I don't make friends easily and it's nice to have them. Your continued tolerance of my stupidity and immaturity astounds me, and I thank you for that.
Most of all I'm thankful to my wife, Wendy. You found me when I was at my lowest, heaviest, poorest, and most pathetic yet still found something to love. You became my first and best friend in this new and foreign place, showed me that somebody could love me for who I am. You gave me a home when I was homeless, food when I was hungry, and companionship when I was lonely. You agreed to marry me despite the fact I had nothing to offer you but my love. I owe you my life, in more ways than one. Thank you, for everything.
This Thanksgiving I'm a very thankful man, and you should be too. Take a good hard look at your life and you'll agree, we all have a lot to be thankful for. :)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Trust, and a Lack There Of.
First, read this. If you're thinking "wow, that's a great tool, I wish I had one to spy on my child/spouse" then slap yourself, hard.
GPS trackers, keyloggers, porn detectors, etc. All of that shit exists because nobody fucking trusts anybody anymore. Why? Because nobody is honest anymore. We live in a world where nobody trusts anybody, so nobody is honest with anybody, thus causing others to not trust them! We tag our little children with GPS so we can track them in case they're kidnapped because we don't trust society at large, but when they grow up we just find better hiding spots for the GPS because we don't trust the kids enough to come home after school when they say they will. We scan our spouse's computers for hidden IM and chat logs because they've been spending a lot of time online. We search computers and sock drawers for porn because we're afraid either our children will find out about sex or that our spouses aren't interested in us anymore. We stop trusting the very people we should trust the most, our families. Why? To protect them, of course.
BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.
We do it to protect ourselves from the realities of life. We don't want to think that even for a minute our marriages aren't perfect, our children may do bad things or have bad thoughts, or that anything might exist outside our tiny, self-created, quasi-perfect worldview. Guess what? Your spouse looks at porn and finds other people attractive. Your kid looks porn and will do bad things. The people you know and should trust aren't perfect, they're human-fucking-beings. And you? You've destroyed what little trust they had in you by violating their privacy.
Do you want to have a happy, well-adjusted family? Start with a little honesty and trust. Tell your spouse how you honestly feel and tell them that you trust them to be honest with you. Tell your kids that you know they might not always want to tell you things, but that you love them and trust them to be honest with you. However, the most important part of this is to not get pissed off when they are honest with you. Calm the fuck down and talk about it. Nothing is perfect, not you, not your kids, not your spouse, not your marriage, not your family. Everything has flaws and it's those flaws that make us human, that make us special and lovable.
Trust your family. Be honest with your family. If you do that, then they will too. Always remember the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
GPS trackers, keyloggers, porn detectors, etc. All of that shit exists because nobody fucking trusts anybody anymore. Why? Because nobody is honest anymore. We live in a world where nobody trusts anybody, so nobody is honest with anybody, thus causing others to not trust them! We tag our little children with GPS so we can track them in case they're kidnapped because we don't trust society at large, but when they grow up we just find better hiding spots for the GPS because we don't trust the kids enough to come home after school when they say they will. We scan our spouse's computers for hidden IM and chat logs because they've been spending a lot of time online. We search computers and sock drawers for porn because we're afraid either our children will find out about sex or that our spouses aren't interested in us anymore. We stop trusting the very people we should trust the most, our families. Why? To protect them, of course.
BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.
We do it to protect ourselves from the realities of life. We don't want to think that even for a minute our marriages aren't perfect, our children may do bad things or have bad thoughts, or that anything might exist outside our tiny, self-created, quasi-perfect worldview. Guess what? Your spouse looks at porn and finds other people attractive. Your kid looks porn and will do bad things. The people you know and should trust aren't perfect, they're human-fucking-beings. And you? You've destroyed what little trust they had in you by violating their privacy.
Do you want to have a happy, well-adjusted family? Start with a little honesty and trust. Tell your spouse how you honestly feel and tell them that you trust them to be honest with you. Tell your kids that you know they might not always want to tell you things, but that you love them and trust them to be honest with you. However, the most important part of this is to not get pissed off when they are honest with you. Calm the fuck down and talk about it. Nothing is perfect, not you, not your kids, not your spouse, not your marriage, not your family. Everything has flaws and it's those flaws that make us human, that make us special and lovable.
Trust your family. Be honest with your family. If you do that, then they will too. Always remember the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Tubby Bitch No More!
First, look at this dude:
That's Lou Fucking Ferrigno. Some know him as IFBB Mr. America 1969 and Mr. Universe 1973, others know him as television's The Incredible Hulk, and my friend Wess knows him as God. Regardless of how you are acquainted with Mr. Ferrigno, he was (and pretty much still is) a buff, sexy mother fucker.
Now look at this dude:
That's me. Sure, he gets the occasional sexy chick, but they're almost always forced into the situation (and pity sex is never cool). How I landed my wife is beyond me, and it sure wasn't with studly good looks. That's because when we met I was a stout 382 pounds of lardass. That's right folks, I was damn near the size of three healthy human beings. Or one Hutt, giver or take a couple pounds.
Thankfully, a rigorous workout schedule consisting of lots and lots of nookie and a bit of newly gained personal pride managed to whittle away at that Hutt-like physique and drop me down to a low of 304 lbs (in 4 months, none-the-less!). Unfortunately, since then I've gotten lazy and ballooned back up to 330 lbs as of today. And while I no longer have to work hard to impress chicks (the titanium carbide ceramic ball-and-chain around my finger takes care of that) I still dream of one day approaching Ferrigno levels of sexy, muscular buff-ness. And that journey begins now.
Today I go back to the gym and I'm going to hit the weights, hard. My plan, for the moment, is to build muscle and strength and when I'm feeling good about my progress and have something worthy of uncovering, I will begin to chip away at the layers of blubber, exposing the marble Adonis beneath. Or more likely, the slightly less fat guy who can actually lift a house cat without pulling something. Either way, I refuse to be Jabba anymore. I refuse to have creaky knees. I refuse to stop sex because I'm too damn out of shape to finish. I refuse to be another fat American.
And really, if I don't take a stand now I'm looking at a heart attack and type 2 diabetes before long. And one thing is for damn sure, I absolutely fucking refuse to be that 35 year old fat fucker who needs the electric scooter at walmart. Fuck that shit, it ends now.
That's Lou Fucking Ferrigno. Some know him as IFBB Mr. America 1969 and Mr. Universe 1973, others know him as television's The Incredible Hulk, and my friend Wess knows him as God. Regardless of how you are acquainted with Mr. Ferrigno, he was (and pretty much still is) a buff, sexy mother fucker.
Now look at this dude:
That's me. Sure, he gets the occasional sexy chick, but they're almost always forced into the situation (and pity sex is never cool). How I landed my wife is beyond me, and it sure wasn't with studly good looks. That's because when we met I was a stout 382 pounds of lardass. That's right folks, I was damn near the size of three healthy human beings. Or one Hutt, giver or take a couple pounds.
Thankfully, a rigorous workout schedule consisting of lots and lots of nookie and a bit of newly gained personal pride managed to whittle away at that Hutt-like physique and drop me down to a low of 304 lbs (in 4 months, none-the-less!). Unfortunately, since then I've gotten lazy and ballooned back up to 330 lbs as of today. And while I no longer have to work hard to impress chicks (the titanium carbide ceramic ball-and-chain around my finger takes care of that) I still dream of one day approaching Ferrigno levels of sexy, muscular buff-ness. And that journey begins now.
Today I go back to the gym and I'm going to hit the weights, hard. My plan, for the moment, is to build muscle and strength and when I'm feeling good about my progress and have something worthy of uncovering, I will begin to chip away at the layers of blubber, exposing the marble Adonis beneath. Or more likely, the slightly less fat guy who can actually lift a house cat without pulling something. Either way, I refuse to be Jabba anymore. I refuse to have creaky knees. I refuse to stop sex because I'm too damn out of shape to finish. I refuse to be another fat American.
And really, if I don't take a stand now I'm looking at a heart attack and type 2 diabetes before long. And one thing is for damn sure, I absolutely fucking refuse to be that 35 year old fat fucker who needs the electric scooter at walmart. Fuck that shit, it ends now.
Lots of Shit
I've been a bad blogger, but I've got legitimate excuses this time. Kind of. We went on a 48 hour honeymoon, I got a job, and overall shit has been busy the last few weeks. Now it's all starting to slow down and form a regular schedule, which I like. So on with the rambling.
First off, the job. As some of you know, I went to school to study television broadcasting. It was, in my opinion at the time, a poor man's film school. However, I fell in love with television (and radio, to a lesser extent) and pined away at getting a job in television after my schooling ended. A year and a half later and thanks to a friend, I'm working in television. I am a Master Control Operator for a hub of local/regional stations. It's a good job and I like it, and if you know me then you know how rarely I say that I like a job (in fact, this may be the first time). I'm pretty excited about it and I'll talk your ear off about it if you let me. That being said, let's move on.
Wendy and I now have a two income household (see above), so it's time to think about the future. With a gross increase of 80% to our cash flow the possibility of getting a larger apartment, a new car, or other things has opened up and I intend on capitalizing on some of them in the next year or so. Especially the "other things" category, in which progress has already begun. Mostly I'm stoked about the stability this income provides, and that I finally feel like I'm pulling my weight in this relationship instead of continuing my favored position of Professional Freeloader.
So far marriage feels exactly as it did before. Nothing is different aside from the lump of black alloy-based ceramics that encases my finger, trapping water and destroying my flesh. And even that is getting better every day. The reasoning behind this, as I discovered today, is because of the fundamental nature of Wendy and I's relationship. We met as two lonely people looking for companionship and we became friends instantly. Soon that friendship matured and we became honest-to-goodness best friends. That, I believe is the secret to our relationship. No matter what, we always have been and always will be friends on the most basic of levels. For some strange reason, knowing that I made a life long best friend and that I get to spend the rest of eternity with my best friend means everything to me. I love her more than anything, and I am so happy to be her husband, her lover, and her friend.
And I think I'm going to end this here, because none of what I wrote made any damn sense. It's late, I'm tired, and I shouldn't blog just because I was inspired to by others. However, it was a good catch up post and I'll try to write something a bit more focused tomorrow.
First off, the job. As some of you know, I went to school to study television broadcasting. It was, in my opinion at the time, a poor man's film school. However, I fell in love with television (and radio, to a lesser extent) and pined away at getting a job in television after my schooling ended. A year and a half later and thanks to a friend, I'm working in television. I am a Master Control Operator for a hub of local/regional stations. It's a good job and I like it, and if you know me then you know how rarely I say that I like a job (in fact, this may be the first time). I'm pretty excited about it and I'll talk your ear off about it if you let me. That being said, let's move on.
Wendy and I now have a two income household (see above), so it's time to think about the future. With a gross increase of 80% to our cash flow the possibility of getting a larger apartment, a new car, or other things has opened up and I intend on capitalizing on some of them in the next year or so. Especially the "other things" category, in which progress has already begun. Mostly I'm stoked about the stability this income provides, and that I finally feel like I'm pulling my weight in this relationship instead of continuing my favored position of Professional Freeloader.
So far marriage feels exactly as it did before. Nothing is different aside from the lump of black alloy-based ceramics that encases my finger, trapping water and destroying my flesh. And even that is getting better every day. The reasoning behind this, as I discovered today, is because of the fundamental nature of Wendy and I's relationship. We met as two lonely people looking for companionship and we became friends instantly. Soon that friendship matured and we became honest-to-goodness best friends. That, I believe is the secret to our relationship. No matter what, we always have been and always will be friends on the most basic of levels. For some strange reason, knowing that I made a life long best friend and that I get to spend the rest of eternity with my best friend means everything to me. I love her more than anything, and I am so happy to be her husband, her lover, and her friend.
And I think I'm going to end this here, because none of what I wrote made any damn sense. It's late, I'm tired, and I shouldn't blog just because I was inspired to by others. However, it was a good catch up post and I'll try to write something a bit more focused tomorrow.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wedding Bells
We got married. I am a married man.
Nothing feels different and I don't expect it to. I'm really happy, she's really happy, and we're happy together. The whole thing doesn't seem real, it looks odd to see my last name on her Facebook account, and having a ring on my finger feels strange, but that's it. I expect the adjustment will happen slowly and without notice. I'll probably goof up and call her my fiancee a couple of times, but that will go away in a week or so and I'll probably get used to the ring in a few days. The name thing will be odd for a while just because changing a name is a process that takes time and has to be repeated everywhere. It's probably a million times more odd for her. I can't imagine what it must be like learning to sign a new last name.
I don't have a whole lot to say about the matter. Now that it's done and over with it's time to get back to business as usual. Kind of.
Hopefully I'll have a job soon and we can get a bigger apartment (and maybe a new car in a year or so), then maybe we can discuss things like dogs and kids. We're both a little old for children, but I'd still like to try.
I've been committed to this woman for over a year now, so that hasn't changed. If anything it's a safeguard to keep me from running from my problems, though I haven't done that in a while either.
I wish I knew if it changed anything for her, if any new expectations or feelings have appeared. I expect things like that will take time to discover for both of us. The important thing is that the core of our relationships remains the same, we were both completely honest and ourselves before and will continue to be.
I've never been happier in my entire life. I have someone to love and who loves me, I have a partner in crime and best friend, and I have a whole lifetime ahead of me with her. My only regret is that I didn't find her (or she find me) sooner. :)
Nothing feels different and I don't expect it to. I'm really happy, she's really happy, and we're happy together. The whole thing doesn't seem real, it looks odd to see my last name on her Facebook account, and having a ring on my finger feels strange, but that's it. I expect the adjustment will happen slowly and without notice. I'll probably goof up and call her my fiancee a couple of times, but that will go away in a week or so and I'll probably get used to the ring in a few days. The name thing will be odd for a while just because changing a name is a process that takes time and has to be repeated everywhere. It's probably a million times more odd for her. I can't imagine what it must be like learning to sign a new last name.
I don't have a whole lot to say about the matter. Now that it's done and over with it's time to get back to business as usual. Kind of.
Hopefully I'll have a job soon and we can get a bigger apartment (and maybe a new car in a year or so), then maybe we can discuss things like dogs and kids. We're both a little old for children, but I'd still like to try.
I've been committed to this woman for over a year now, so that hasn't changed. If anything it's a safeguard to keep me from running from my problems, though I haven't done that in a while either.
I wish I knew if it changed anything for her, if any new expectations or feelings have appeared. I expect things like that will take time to discover for both of us. The important thing is that the core of our relationships remains the same, we were both completely honest and ourselves before and will continue to be.
I've never been happier in my entire life. I have someone to love and who loves me, I have a partner in crime and best friend, and I have a whole lifetime ahead of me with her. My only regret is that I didn't find her (or she find me) sooner. :)
Television So Bad Its Criminal
I love crime shows on tv. It all started with Quincy M.E. re-runs and Law & Order (the good, old school L&O when it was about the crimes and not the detectives personal lives), then I fell in love with CSI and NCIS. Now it's Castle, a great show staring the always badass Nathan Fillion. I love Castle, the crimes are imaginative (except the Strangers on a Train episode that every fucking crime show ever must rip off at least once), the characters are interesting, and it doesn't suffer from either staleness or campy-over-the-top-ness. That being said, it makes the same fucking mistakes that every cop show ever makes.
Mistake #1: Phone Traces
Every fucking cop show/movie ever that has had a phone call traced has subscribed to the bullshit that traces take time and if the bad guy hangs up early then they won't be able to find him. This is utter and complete bullshit that any moron with a brain can see is bullshit. Don't believe me? Try it at home. Have your buddy call you, and before it rings twice I bet you have his name or number pop up on your caller ID. Guess what, you just traced a phone call. And even if it comes up blocked or anything else then all you do is call the phone company and say "I'm the police, who just called 555-5555? And give me the address while you're at it." Ta-da! Phone number, name and address, and other information associated with the call are automatically and instantaneously recorded the second the call is placed. It only takes as long to trace a call as it does to dial the call.
Cell phones are a bit trickier than land lines, as per their nature they move around and aren't tied to a physical address (and can be bought anonymously at places like Walmart). Tv shows tend to get cell phones mostly right, thanks to obvious tools like GPS and cell-tower triangulation, which are real things that really work.
Calls that some expert hacker dude/spy has routed through payphones in Oslo are beyond my knowledge. I imagine it's completely possible to do such things and to disguise your tracks while doing it, but that level of deception is beyond the abilities of most criminals in most cases.
Mistake #2: High Heeled Shoes
Every female police detective in a tv show or movie is rocking heels. They're not usually 6 inch stilettos or anything, but they are still heels. And they're bullshit. Office workers wear heels, cops don't. Heels are the most impractical of shoes we expect people to wear on a daily basis. You can't run in them, you can't walk across uneven terrain with them, they destroy your feet, and they're not sturdy. A real police detective who might need to be comfortable, chase a suspect, or walk on anything that's not concrete or asphalt would never wear heels, thus no police detective would wear them on the job (except for court appearances, maybe).
Mistake #3: High Tech Bullshit
Enhancing security camera footage, fancy see through touch screen smart boards, instant lab results and more are all great examples of high tech bullshit.
You can't increase the resolution on any picture or video (once it's been made) and zoom in on the tiniest detail. What you see it what you get. There might be some enhancing in the form of noise filters and such, but you can't zoom in and get a clearer picture and any alteration you make to the picture/video will harm the quality, thus making it more difficult to find little details.
Touch screen smart boards exist. We used one in college and it was awesome. However, it wouldn't look all that cool on tv. Also, you can't see through it and if the actors are facing a white board or a smart board then you can't show their faces and the board at the same time. Thus the invention of the high tech bullshit we know as the transparent touch screen computer thingy. Could you build one? Yes. Would it work? Yes. Would it be practical? Fuck no, unless you're a camera crew trying to get a shot of actors and the info on the board at the same time (and make it look cool, as well). Reading anything on a see-through medium (like overhead projector transparencies) is a pain in the ass unless you have a solid, contrasting color in the background. Also, anything you could see from the other side would be backwards, thus making it useless as something you can look at from both sides. So why make it transparent? It makes no sense to anybody but a film/television director and audiences that don't think.
Scientific testing of anything takes time, especially in a law enforcement situation where there is a backlog of shit to do. You do not get DNA results the same hour, same day, or even the same week (for the most part). It just doesn't happen. It doesn't matter how fast the actual test is, a human being still has to perform the test and process the results and the test you need might be the last thing on their to-do list for the day.
Those are only three of many mistakes that irk the shit out of me. They are glaringly apparent and they should be to all of you as well. I know they are all done for a reason (dramatic tension, costume design, and audience friendliness respectively) but that doesn't mean they have to be relied on. Instead of a telephone trace you could have an uncooperative phone company or an anonymous cell phone (who has land lines anymore anyways?). Detective Kate Beckett could wear fashionable flats or athletic shoes instead (plus who looks at shoes while watching those kind of shows [except me, obviously]?). And instead of high tech bullshit... Well, some high tech bullshit has to stay because audiences don't want to wait a week for a test result or have to stare at the back of actors heads while they look at case notes. But that doesn't make it any less annoying, just more necessary.
However, the zooming in on a crappy security camera video to look at the license plate of a car three blocks away is complete bullshit and relying on it is bad writing. Stop fucking doing it!
Mistake #1: Phone Traces
Every fucking cop show/movie ever that has had a phone call traced has subscribed to the bullshit that traces take time and if the bad guy hangs up early then they won't be able to find him. This is utter and complete bullshit that any moron with a brain can see is bullshit. Don't believe me? Try it at home. Have your buddy call you, and before it rings twice I bet you have his name or number pop up on your caller ID. Guess what, you just traced a phone call. And even if it comes up blocked or anything else then all you do is call the phone company and say "I'm the police, who just called 555-5555? And give me the address while you're at it." Ta-da! Phone number, name and address, and other information associated with the call are automatically and instantaneously recorded the second the call is placed. It only takes as long to trace a call as it does to dial the call.
Cell phones are a bit trickier than land lines, as per their nature they move around and aren't tied to a physical address (and can be bought anonymously at places like Walmart). Tv shows tend to get cell phones mostly right, thanks to obvious tools like GPS and cell-tower triangulation, which are real things that really work.
Calls that some expert hacker dude/spy has routed through payphones in Oslo are beyond my knowledge. I imagine it's completely possible to do such things and to disguise your tracks while doing it, but that level of deception is beyond the abilities of most criminals in most cases.
Mistake #2: High Heeled Shoes
Every female police detective in a tv show or movie is rocking heels. They're not usually 6 inch stilettos or anything, but they are still heels. And they're bullshit. Office workers wear heels, cops don't. Heels are the most impractical of shoes we expect people to wear on a daily basis. You can't run in them, you can't walk across uneven terrain with them, they destroy your feet, and they're not sturdy. A real police detective who might need to be comfortable, chase a suspect, or walk on anything that's not concrete or asphalt would never wear heels, thus no police detective would wear them on the job (except for court appearances, maybe).
Mistake #3: High Tech Bullshit
Enhancing security camera footage, fancy see through touch screen smart boards, instant lab results and more are all great examples of high tech bullshit.
You can't increase the resolution on any picture or video (once it's been made) and zoom in on the tiniest detail. What you see it what you get. There might be some enhancing in the form of noise filters and such, but you can't zoom in and get a clearer picture and any alteration you make to the picture/video will harm the quality, thus making it more difficult to find little details.
Touch screen smart boards exist. We used one in college and it was awesome. However, it wouldn't look all that cool on tv. Also, you can't see through it and if the actors are facing a white board or a smart board then you can't show their faces and the board at the same time. Thus the invention of the high tech bullshit we know as the transparent touch screen computer thingy. Could you build one? Yes. Would it work? Yes. Would it be practical? Fuck no, unless you're a camera crew trying to get a shot of actors and the info on the board at the same time (and make it look cool, as well). Reading anything on a see-through medium (like overhead projector transparencies) is a pain in the ass unless you have a solid, contrasting color in the background. Also, anything you could see from the other side would be backwards, thus making it useless as something you can look at from both sides. So why make it transparent? It makes no sense to anybody but a film/television director and audiences that don't think.
Scientific testing of anything takes time, especially in a law enforcement situation where there is a backlog of shit to do. You do not get DNA results the same hour, same day, or even the same week (for the most part). It just doesn't happen. It doesn't matter how fast the actual test is, a human being still has to perform the test and process the results and the test you need might be the last thing on their to-do list for the day.
Those are only three of many mistakes that irk the shit out of me. They are glaringly apparent and they should be to all of you as well. I know they are all done for a reason (dramatic tension, costume design, and audience friendliness respectively) but that doesn't mean they have to be relied on. Instead of a telephone trace you could have an uncooperative phone company or an anonymous cell phone (who has land lines anymore anyways?). Detective Kate Beckett could wear fashionable flats or athletic shoes instead (plus who looks at shoes while watching those kind of shows [except me, obviously]?). And instead of high tech bullshit... Well, some high tech bullshit has to stay because audiences don't want to wait a week for a test result or have to stare at the back of actors heads while they look at case notes. But that doesn't make it any less annoying, just more necessary.
However, the zooming in on a crappy security camera video to look at the license plate of a car three blocks away is complete bullshit and relying on it is bad writing. Stop fucking doing it!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
The Eye of the Storm
In my mind's eye I sit in a small, fragile, rotting wooden rowboat with only a single broken paddle. On the horizon all around I can see a vicious hurricane raging, tearing the sea asunder. I am in the eye of the storm, a place of calm amidst the chaos. I know that it is only a matter of time before the tides and winds force me into the maelstrom, so I watch with my heart in my throat, my nerves dancing.
In less than 9 days I get married. Less than a week ago my car's engine destroyed itself. My family chose not to attend my wedding and tries to ignore the topic. I am unemployed with no skills or education. These are the major stresses of my life at current, each with a multitude of minor stresses and worries within that nibble at my sanity. Together they form a veritable hurricane of stress, and right now I'm not in a position to do a damned thing about any of it.
I spent a large amount of time in high school and college subscribing to my own version of nihilism, and through that I developed a large degree of apathy. While limiting, sometimes that apathy is useful. I've learned that if I can't do anything about a problem at that very moment then I shouldn't waste any time with it. I apply my apathy and stop caring. It's an extremely useful talent.
It also has failed me. I see the storm, and I see that for the next several days I can't do anything to lessen it. But for the life of me I can't seem to call forth my apathy and ignore it. Every time I close my eyes I see Wendy and I standing at our wedding altar looking over an empty hall. I see my car dead on the side of the road, it's replacement engine burst into flames. I see my family refusing to acknowledge my marriage or life choices. I see my self living in a cardboard box. I see the horrors that might be, and I can't shut them out.
I know it's all bullshit. People will come to the wedding and have fun, my car will work just fine for now, my family will get over it, and I will find work somewhere. My fears are baseless and irrational, but that doesn't make them any less intimidating. Each on it's own is a minor thing, but together they are strong.
The storm will pass, with time. And I will survive. But that doesn't make the experience any less terrifying.
In less than 9 days I get married. Less than a week ago my car's engine destroyed itself. My family chose not to attend my wedding and tries to ignore the topic. I am unemployed with no skills or education. These are the major stresses of my life at current, each with a multitude of minor stresses and worries within that nibble at my sanity. Together they form a veritable hurricane of stress, and right now I'm not in a position to do a damned thing about any of it.
I spent a large amount of time in high school and college subscribing to my own version of nihilism, and through that I developed a large degree of apathy. While limiting, sometimes that apathy is useful. I've learned that if I can't do anything about a problem at that very moment then I shouldn't waste any time with it. I apply my apathy and stop caring. It's an extremely useful talent.
It also has failed me. I see the storm, and I see that for the next several days I can't do anything to lessen it. But for the life of me I can't seem to call forth my apathy and ignore it. Every time I close my eyes I see Wendy and I standing at our wedding altar looking over an empty hall. I see my car dead on the side of the road, it's replacement engine burst into flames. I see my family refusing to acknowledge my marriage or life choices. I see my self living in a cardboard box. I see the horrors that might be, and I can't shut them out.
I know it's all bullshit. People will come to the wedding and have fun, my car will work just fine for now, my family will get over it, and I will find work somewhere. My fears are baseless and irrational, but that doesn't make them any less intimidating. Each on it's own is a minor thing, but together they are strong.
The storm will pass, with time. And I will survive. But that doesn't make the experience any less terrifying.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Rest In Peace, You Beautiful Peice of Shit
I met my car in 2004 at a dealership in Billings. She was a 2001 Hyundai Tiburon, silver, and beautiful. She cost $9400 used, with 56,000 miles on her. She wasn't the fastest car, but she was sexy, easy on the fuel and girls loved her. We drove all over Wyoming, Montana, and even once to Salt Lake City. She never broke down and always started. She got me through snow storms, long nights, love and loss. I may have called her names and treated her like shit most of the time, but I loved that car. She was my car, paid for by my hard earned cash (for the most part), and I thought I'd have her until she rusted to dust.
My Tiburon died on Saturday, October 9th in the Caras Park parking lot. Unless she gets an engine transplant (for cheap) she's probably bound for the junkyard. She will be missed.
My Tiburon died on Saturday, October 9th in the Caras Park parking lot. Unless she gets an engine transplant (for cheap) she's probably bound for the junkyard. She will be missed.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Booze!
I like booze. I don't drink often, and when I do I don't drink much (anymore), but I love booze. Part of it is the escapism of being drunk and part of it is the chemistry of it all. See, I'm a science guy. I love all kinds of sciences, especially chemistry. And booze is just chemistry in action. Someday I'd love to home brew beer, or make my own wine, or even set up a little still. But until I can afford to have such expensive hobbies I've got Spike Your Juice!
I came across this delightful stuff while browsing Gizmodo one day. It's a powdered yeast mixture that you can use at home to turn ordinary grape juice (or whatever kind of juice) into a type of wine based on federweißer, a quick cheap wine made from lesser quality grapes.
Spike Your Juice is cheap, only $10 for a box which contains 6 yeast packets and a rubber stopper with an airlock. You just buy some juice, make sure it's made with real sugar (and enough of it), pour in the powder, seal it up with the airlock (so the carbon dioxide buildup doesn't blow your bottle up), and wait.
So I did. I've got 64 ounces of white grape federweißer fermenting on the counter as we speak. I did a taste test earlier (after 48 hours of fermentation) and while smelling horrid it tasted pretty damn good. Mildly carbonated and still very sweet it probably has a very low ABV so it gets a couple more days to ferment. But all of this got me thinking, and while I was thinking I was enjoying a tasty caffeinated beverage known widely to gamers and nerds: Mountain Dew. Not just any Dew though, it was the very tasty Throwback version with real sugar. I checked the ingredient list, and indeed it is real sugar. Checked the nutritional facts and it has more than enough of the delicious real sugar for the Spike Your Juice to work it's magic.
And if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm going to spike the hell out of some Mountain Dew Throwback. I just need 3.2 bottles, a suitable container, and time. Stay tuned for next week when I brew up a batch of awesomeness. :)
I came across this delightful stuff while browsing Gizmodo one day. It's a powdered yeast mixture that you can use at home to turn ordinary grape juice (or whatever kind of juice) into a type of wine based on federweißer, a quick cheap wine made from lesser quality grapes.
Spike Your Juice is cheap, only $10 for a box which contains 6 yeast packets and a rubber stopper with an airlock. You just buy some juice, make sure it's made with real sugar (and enough of it), pour in the powder, seal it up with the airlock (so the carbon dioxide buildup doesn't blow your bottle up), and wait.
So I did. I've got 64 ounces of white grape federweißer fermenting on the counter as we speak. I did a taste test earlier (after 48 hours of fermentation) and while smelling horrid it tasted pretty damn good. Mildly carbonated and still very sweet it probably has a very low ABV so it gets a couple more days to ferment. But all of this got me thinking, and while I was thinking I was enjoying a tasty caffeinated beverage known widely to gamers and nerds: Mountain Dew. Not just any Dew though, it was the very tasty Throwback version with real sugar. I checked the ingredient list, and indeed it is real sugar. Checked the nutritional facts and it has more than enough of the delicious real sugar for the Spike Your Juice to work it's magic.
And if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm going to spike the hell out of some Mountain Dew Throwback. I just need 3.2 bottles, a suitable container, and time. Stay tuned for next week when I brew up a batch of awesomeness. :)
Fallout Vault Dweller/Lone Wanderer Costume: Part 1
I love Fallout 3. It is a wonderful game full of exploration, awesome sights, great story, bad ass action, and more fun than you can shake a stick at. Since I started playing it I've wanted to do a costume based on it. Unfortunately by the time I think of making a costume for Halloween it's too late and I wouldn't have enough time to finish it. This time, however, I remembered MisCon. MisCon is Montana's biggest, baddest, most awesome (and only) Sci-Fi/Fantasy convention. And it's in May. Plenty of time to plan, gather, and construct a Vault Dweller/Lone Wanderer costume. So on to the details!
In the world of Fallout there are these massive nuclear fallout shelters called Vaults and the citizens of these Vaults wear a distinctive blue and yellow jumpsuit:
This is the base of the costume. A blue coverall/jumpsuit with some yellow bits. However, many Fallout costumes on the net are poorly done. I can't count the number of Vault-Tec jumpsuits I've seen that are just a blue jumpsuit with yellow tape on them. Seriously people? Yellow fucking tape? Another big issue I have with most of them is the font. Most people, even if they use real fabric for the yellow parts, just freehand the shape of the numbers. However, the numbers use a specific, very 1950's style font.
Now, I'm not psycho about the details. I'm not going to custom tailor a jumpsuit to match the game, making sure every last bit is right. What I do want to do right is the big details. The yellow parts are fabric and are obviously stitched on and do not extend around the collar. The numbers are a specific font and are stitched on. The forearms are brown leather. The shoulder has that leather and metal piece. The collar is not a standard jumpsuit/coverall collar. These are the important details that I intend to focus on.
That being said, I probably won't get them perfect. I suck at hand stitching and I've never used a sewing machine. I can't afford leather so I'll probably use a fake leather or just dark brown cloth. I'm not even going to try to make the belt (but I have reasoning behind that). And while every Vault resident has a Pip-Boy, mine probably won't look like the one from the game (and I'll go into detail about that later).
You might be saying "But you made such a stink about accuracy and then you're not going to be accurate, what gives?" Time, money, and skill are what gives. I don't want to half-ass this costume but I'm also not going to be able to make it perfect. What I can do it make it look good, and make it work within the world of Fallout. You see, Fallout takes place in a wonderful, post-apocalyptic, post-nuclear war world. The survivors get by scavenging and making due with what they have. And that, my friends, is my saving grace. My character could have lost his belt and scavenged a new one. His Pip-Boy could have been damaged and then repaired with whatever he had on hand (and maybe it wasn't a model 3000a Pip-Boy to begin with). The jumpsuit will be dirty, ragged, and abused. Fallout is a world of DIY, dumpster diving, and using what you've got. So why not take advantage of that?
The costume will consist of: a Vault-Tec jumpsuit (Vault 101 or 77), belt with holster/storage, 10mm pistol (Nerf Recon), and Pip-Boy. I don't have a budget for the costume, but buying what I can when I can I hope to stay under $150 total. The jumpsuit will probably be around $40-$50 total, the pistol will be around $30-$40, and the Pip-Boy could be anywhere from $20 to $50.
I'll keep you all posted on the status of the costume as it comes together. In the words of Three-Dog, "Thanks for listening, chiiiiildren!"
In the world of Fallout there are these massive nuclear fallout shelters called Vaults and the citizens of these Vaults wear a distinctive blue and yellow jumpsuit:
Now, I'm not psycho about the details. I'm not going to custom tailor a jumpsuit to match the game, making sure every last bit is right. What I do want to do right is the big details. The yellow parts are fabric and are obviously stitched on and do not extend around the collar. The numbers are a specific font and are stitched on. The forearms are brown leather. The shoulder has that leather and metal piece. The collar is not a standard jumpsuit/coverall collar. These are the important details that I intend to focus on.
That being said, I probably won't get them perfect. I suck at hand stitching and I've never used a sewing machine. I can't afford leather so I'll probably use a fake leather or just dark brown cloth. I'm not even going to try to make the belt (but I have reasoning behind that). And while every Vault resident has a Pip-Boy, mine probably won't look like the one from the game (and I'll go into detail about that later).
You might be saying "But you made such a stink about accuracy and then you're not going to be accurate, what gives?" Time, money, and skill are what gives. I don't want to half-ass this costume but I'm also not going to be able to make it perfect. What I can do it make it look good, and make it work within the world of Fallout. You see, Fallout takes place in a wonderful, post-apocalyptic, post-nuclear war world. The survivors get by scavenging and making due with what they have. And that, my friends, is my saving grace. My character could have lost his belt and scavenged a new one. His Pip-Boy could have been damaged and then repaired with whatever he had on hand (and maybe it wasn't a model 3000a Pip-Boy to begin with). The jumpsuit will be dirty, ragged, and abused. Fallout is a world of DIY, dumpster diving, and using what you've got. So why not take advantage of that?
The costume will consist of: a Vault-Tec jumpsuit (Vault 101 or 77), belt with holster/storage, 10mm pistol (Nerf Recon), and Pip-Boy. I don't have a budget for the costume, but buying what I can when I can I hope to stay under $150 total. The jumpsuit will probably be around $40-$50 total, the pistol will be around $30-$40, and the Pip-Boy could be anywhere from $20 to $50.
I'll keep you all posted on the status of the costume as it comes together. In the words of Three-Dog, "Thanks for listening, chiiiiildren!"
Sleep and A Lack There Of
So, for the last week or so I've been sleeping like shit. I lay awake, physically and mentally exhausted yet wide awake. When I do sleep it's only for an hour or two at a time and it's a restless sleep. Physically I'm fine, no bodily issues are keeping me up. Mentally... I'm unsure. I have no major worries that plague my thoughts, no one (or any, really) unanswered questions or stresses. Sure, the wedding is lurking in the back of my mind, but I'm neither worried nor excited about it at the moment. So what the fuck is wrong with me?
My fear is that this period of insomnia is the precursor to an episode of depression. I'd rather not spend the month in a fugue and I know my fiancée would probably feel better if I wasn't all mopey.
Anyways, for now I suppose I'll just continue mindlessly surfing the Internet and watching documentaries on Netflix. I've got to fall asleep downtime, right?
My fear is that this period of insomnia is the precursor to an episode of depression. I'd rather not spend the month in a fugue and I know my fiancée would probably feel better if I wasn't all mopey.
Anyways, for now I suppose I'll just continue mindlessly surfing the Internet and watching documentaries on Netflix. I've got to fall asleep downtime, right?
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Loosing a Level
While I'm on the subject of gaming, I thought I'd talk about the game I ran and the game I want to run.
Not too long ago our Thursday night game's current campaign needed to take an extended hiatus and I decided to step in with a game of my own. Entitled "Go West" it was a fantasy western setting with a quasi-custom rule-set based off of the Star Wars: Saga Edition rules. In my opinion, it was a massive failure.
We only did half of the test adventure I wrote, but that was enough to expose enough flaws in the setting, the rules, and my own ability to GM that I declined to finish it. The players, by all reports, had fun but I did not. And I know exactly why: I'm too inexperienced.
The rules were custom and thus riddled with problems, I was stumbling over myself trying to keep everything straight, I didn't prep for the game very well, and I didn't know what to do when players came up with unexpected actions. That last one was the killing blow.
So I decided that I needed more experience as a GM, but Go West wasn't the direction I needed to go. I needed to step way the fuck back and run something somebody had already written for an established set of rules. I needed a campaign composed of adventure modules. And I have one.
A while back I grabbed a bunch of adventure modules that I like plus a mini-campaign that I've always wanted to play and linked them together. The campaign is called "A Mage's Request" and uses the D&D 3.5 rules but can be easily played with Pathfinder. The Thursday night crew however, was burnt out on fantasy, and I couldn't blame them. With the exception of my fiancee and myself, they all had two other games going and both were fantasy games, and so had been all the recently finished games.
So, "A Mage's Request" got turned down, but I still wanted to play it. Where could I find players, though? Well, why not use my highschool buddies and play online? They seemed keen on the idea, I had all the software needed plus a couple of local players (that I have never played with) to round out the group. My Sunday night game was ready to go!
And then it got left at the altar. My two highschool gaming buddies couldn't find the time, despite telling me that they had the time. So I was left with an internet game and only two local players. And thus the death of "A Mage's Request". I still hope to someday run it so that I can gain some experience as a GM, but I really don't know when that will happen. For now I will continue as the player, a role I love and enjoy, and leave the behind the scenes action to those with the experience and knowledge.
Not too long ago our Thursday night game's current campaign needed to take an extended hiatus and I decided to step in with a game of my own. Entitled "Go West" it was a fantasy western setting with a quasi-custom rule-set based off of the Star Wars: Saga Edition rules. In my opinion, it was a massive failure.
We only did half of the test adventure I wrote, but that was enough to expose enough flaws in the setting, the rules, and my own ability to GM that I declined to finish it. The players, by all reports, had fun but I did not. And I know exactly why: I'm too inexperienced.
The rules were custom and thus riddled with problems, I was stumbling over myself trying to keep everything straight, I didn't prep for the game very well, and I didn't know what to do when players came up with unexpected actions. That last one was the killing blow.
So I decided that I needed more experience as a GM, but Go West wasn't the direction I needed to go. I needed to step way the fuck back and run something somebody had already written for an established set of rules. I needed a campaign composed of adventure modules. And I have one.
A while back I grabbed a bunch of adventure modules that I like plus a mini-campaign that I've always wanted to play and linked them together. The campaign is called "A Mage's Request" and uses the D&D 3.5 rules but can be easily played with Pathfinder. The Thursday night crew however, was burnt out on fantasy, and I couldn't blame them. With the exception of my fiancee and myself, they all had two other games going and both were fantasy games, and so had been all the recently finished games.
So, "A Mage's Request" got turned down, but I still wanted to play it. Where could I find players, though? Well, why not use my highschool buddies and play online? They seemed keen on the idea, I had all the software needed plus a couple of local players (that I have never played with) to round out the group. My Sunday night game was ready to go!
And then it got left at the altar. My two highschool gaming buddies couldn't find the time, despite telling me that they had the time. So I was left with an internet game and only two local players. And thus the death of "A Mage's Request". I still hope to someday run it so that I can gain some experience as a GM, but I really don't know when that will happen. For now I will continue as the player, a role I love and enjoy, and leave the behind the scenes action to those with the experience and knowledge.
Not Wanting to BASH! My Head In
A couple of friends posted analyses of our Thursday night BASH! game and these got me thinking about gaming so I figured I'd toss in my two cents.
Mic is running a 50's style sci-fi adventure with a dark bent that he's basing off of a graphic novel he digs. I'm not sure what the campaign is called (or if it even has a name) so I'll just refer to it as Mic's Game. This is our second BASH! game (or 3rd if you count the one-shot Ryan ran for Wendy and I one night) and I'm starting to get used to the mechanics.
BASH! isn't exactly rocket science (or AD&D 2nd Ed., for which you require mathematics degree to play) but the rules are different enough that I'm still working out what we can do with them. And unlike most games I've played, it encourages loose interpretation and experimentation of the rules. Want to do something cool? I can almost guarantee there's no direct rule for it, you just have to pick the one that fits best and run with it.
This is both awesome and frustrating to me. Awesome in the fact that I can do pretty much whatever the hell I want and not be restricted by "oh well, there's no rule for that, so you can't" and frustrating in that I can't just point to a rule and say "I want to do that." Coming up with creative uses for powers during a game session is difficult for me, I hate losing track of what's happening in the game but I also don't want to take five minutes figuring out what I want to do when it's my turn. When I get more accustomed to the rules this should get easier, but for now it's an issue.
As for Mic's Game I'm playing a psychic named Bob Jones, a former soldier on the run from the government because he didn't want them playing inside his head when they found out he had powers. His real name is Rupert Allen something (don't look at me like that, I can't be expected to remember everything). Bob's powers include telekinesis, mental armor, danger sense, and invisibility. Haven't had a chance to play with his invis yet, but I expect it will come in handy.
There's another psychic in the party, (played by Ben) but he has a different power set and a backstory that should make for some compelling roleplaying later. A master of mind control, Fred is a member of the very government agency Bob is hiding from.
Providing the heavy for the party is Ryan with his power-armored soldier. Concern has been expressed by Ryan about the extreme combat effectiveness of his character, worrying that he might steal all the glory. I trust that Mic has a solution for this, and either way I'm not that worried about it. The very fact that Ryan knows his character is powerful and is concerned about it means that it won't be an issue.
The final member of the party is Buffy the Alien Hunter, played by my dear fiancee, Wendy. What the character lacks in originality Wendy makes up for in enthusiasm. However, the character straight from the book didn't fit Wendy's play style well so we made some mid-game readjustments and made her a bit more combat effective.
So far I'm liking the game and having a lot of fun with it. I think that my character has a lot more potential than the character I played in our previous BASH game, but that probably has more to do with my play style than any defect of the character build. Overall, I continue to be happy with the Thursday night game and hope I get invited to play in other games in the future.
Mic is running a 50's style sci-fi adventure with a dark bent that he's basing off of a graphic novel he digs. I'm not sure what the campaign is called (or if it even has a name) so I'll just refer to it as Mic's Game. This is our second BASH! game (or 3rd if you count the one-shot Ryan ran for Wendy and I one night) and I'm starting to get used to the mechanics.
BASH! isn't exactly rocket science (or AD&D 2nd Ed., for which you require mathematics degree to play) but the rules are different enough that I'm still working out what we can do with them. And unlike most games I've played, it encourages loose interpretation and experimentation of the rules. Want to do something cool? I can almost guarantee there's no direct rule for it, you just have to pick the one that fits best and run with it.
This is both awesome and frustrating to me. Awesome in the fact that I can do pretty much whatever the hell I want and not be restricted by "oh well, there's no rule for that, so you can't" and frustrating in that I can't just point to a rule and say "I want to do that." Coming up with creative uses for powers during a game session is difficult for me, I hate losing track of what's happening in the game but I also don't want to take five minutes figuring out what I want to do when it's my turn. When I get more accustomed to the rules this should get easier, but for now it's an issue.
As for Mic's Game I'm playing a psychic named Bob Jones, a former soldier on the run from the government because he didn't want them playing inside his head when they found out he had powers. His real name is Rupert Allen something (don't look at me like that, I can't be expected to remember everything). Bob's powers include telekinesis, mental armor, danger sense, and invisibility. Haven't had a chance to play with his invis yet, but I expect it will come in handy.
There's another psychic in the party, (played by Ben) but he has a different power set and a backstory that should make for some compelling roleplaying later. A master of mind control, Fred is a member of the very government agency Bob is hiding from.
Providing the heavy for the party is Ryan with his power-armored soldier. Concern has been expressed by Ryan about the extreme combat effectiveness of his character, worrying that he might steal all the glory. I trust that Mic has a solution for this, and either way I'm not that worried about it. The very fact that Ryan knows his character is powerful and is concerned about it means that it won't be an issue.
The final member of the party is Buffy the Alien Hunter, played by my dear fiancee, Wendy. What the character lacks in originality Wendy makes up for in enthusiasm. However, the character straight from the book didn't fit Wendy's play style well so we made some mid-game readjustments and made her a bit more combat effective.
So far I'm liking the game and having a lot of fun with it. I think that my character has a lot more potential than the character I played in our previous BASH game, but that probably has more to do with my play style than any defect of the character build. Overall, I continue to be happy with the Thursday night game and hope I get invited to play in other games in the future.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
It's Nerf or Nothin'
My name's Patrick and I'm an addict. I'm not hooked booze, drugs, or sex (though that last one is debatable). I am hooked on Nerf. Once "the name" in soft foam balls, they have in recent years become really good at producing bright yellow (and sometimes blue) guns that shoot mostly harmless foam darts. These plastic toy guns aren't just for kids, they are the pussy's paintball, the poor man's airsoft, the child-at-heart's war games.
If your blood doesn't start pumping at the idea of running around the park shooting your friends with guns then check your pants, because you have no balls. This applies to the ladies as well (with metaphorical balls). There's something built into the human spirit that loves a good fight, whether it be pistols at dawn, fists in the ring, or words at a rousing debate. We are a competitive, confrontational, and violent species; why not take advantage of it?
You might say "But Nerf is for kids, why not play paintball?" Have you ever been shot with a paintball? It fucking hurts and leaves a big, nasty, painful bruise. It's also expensive, requiring not only pricey guns, gas, and paint but safety equipment as well. I'll pass, thank you. Nerf, on the other hand, is inexpensive (one of the best guns, the Maverick, is only $10) and only hurts if you get popped in the eye, which can be avoided by not aiming for the face and wearing sunglasses.
You've also got the cool factor. Most paintball guns look the same (and aren't exactly cool looking to begin with), while Nerf guns (aside from the ugly yellow/orange color scheme) look neat and have designs that resemble real-life and futuristic guns. Don't like the color? Get some plastic-friendly spray paint and change it, though I recommend keeping the yellow/orange color and avoiding black for safety reasons (cops aren't going to arrest and detain you as a terror suspect for running around with a yellow plastic gun, a black one that looks like a FN P90 or a Dragunov SVD earns you a one way trip to handcuff-ville [though not in a good way]). There's also the cosplay/steampunk aspect. Need a weapon for your custom sci-fi/comic/gaming convention? Grab a cheap ass Nerf gun and paint, cut, glue, mod the hell out of it and you've got a wicked cool looking gun that, if you were careful about it, still shoots orange foam darts.
With recent guns, Nerf has created an addict's hell. The mass implementation of the clip-system, barrel attachments, and removable stocks in addition to their previous tactical rails has opened the guns up to crazy customization. Don't like the short barrel of your Deploy? Grab the barrel extension from the Recon. Want more ammo capacity for your Longstrike or Stampede? Get a Raider and use the 35-round drum magazine. Need a folding stock for your Recon? Wait with baited breath for the Spectre to be released. Each new gun seems to have parts that make the older guns better and cooler.
I only have two Nerf guns at the moment, but that will change in the near future. I may be addicted to Nerf, but at least I've found a relatively cheap and exceptionally fun hobby. :)
If your blood doesn't start pumping at the idea of running around the park shooting your friends with guns then check your pants, because you have no balls. This applies to the ladies as well (with metaphorical balls). There's something built into the human spirit that loves a good fight, whether it be pistols at dawn, fists in the ring, or words at a rousing debate. We are a competitive, confrontational, and violent species; why not take advantage of it?
You might say "But Nerf is for kids, why not play paintball?" Have you ever been shot with a paintball? It fucking hurts and leaves a big, nasty, painful bruise. It's also expensive, requiring not only pricey guns, gas, and paint but safety equipment as well. I'll pass, thank you. Nerf, on the other hand, is inexpensive (one of the best guns, the Maverick, is only $10) and only hurts if you get popped in the eye, which can be avoided by not aiming for the face and wearing sunglasses.
You've also got the cool factor. Most paintball guns look the same (and aren't exactly cool looking to begin with), while Nerf guns (aside from the ugly yellow/orange color scheme) look neat and have designs that resemble real-life and futuristic guns. Don't like the color? Get some plastic-friendly spray paint and change it, though I recommend keeping the yellow/orange color and avoiding black for safety reasons (cops aren't going to arrest and detain you as a terror suspect for running around with a yellow plastic gun, a black one that looks like a FN P90 or a Dragunov SVD earns you a one way trip to handcuff-ville [though not in a good way]). There's also the cosplay/steampunk aspect. Need a weapon for your custom sci-fi/comic/gaming convention? Grab a cheap ass Nerf gun and paint, cut, glue, mod the hell out of it and you've got a wicked cool looking gun that, if you were careful about it, still shoots orange foam darts.
With recent guns, Nerf has created an addict's hell. The mass implementation of the clip-system, barrel attachments, and removable stocks in addition to their previous tactical rails has opened the guns up to crazy customization. Don't like the short barrel of your Deploy? Grab the barrel extension from the Recon. Want more ammo capacity for your Longstrike or Stampede? Get a Raider and use the 35-round drum magazine. Need a folding stock for your Recon? Wait with baited breath for the Spectre to be released. Each new gun seems to have parts that make the older guns better and cooler.
I only have two Nerf guns at the moment, but that will change in the near future. I may be addicted to Nerf, but at least I've found a relatively cheap and exceptionally fun hobby. :)
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Jealously Jealous of Jealousy
It's crazy how fast words lose their meaning when you repeat them a lot. Anyways, on to the topic at hand.
Jealousy is a hard driving force in our lives, whether you know it or not. A destructive combination of envy, anger, and possessiveness, it dictates how we react to many everyday situations. Like all emotions, it's level of influence varies from person to person as does their level of control over it. We all are capable of it, and we all feel it from time to time. Sometimes it drives us to do some insane things.
I never thought I was a very jealous person, but I was way wrong about that. I also thought it was a simple emotion with simple triggers, thus easy to defeat and reason with. Wrong again. My prime jealousy is a simple one to understand, yet complicated in it's details (which I will not go into). I am jealous of men. More specifically, men other than myself. More specifically than that, men other than myself who have had relationships with my fiancée or who act inappropriately towards her. It's probably the number one thing that comes to mind when one thinks of jealousy, and for good reason, it's probably the single thing most (if not all) people have jealousy about.
I used to go into bouts of intense inner rage and turmoil when I would interact with men whom I know she had been with before, and I nearly punch a gay friend of hers when he grabbed her bottom once (the surprise of the act was the only thing that saved him, I was too taken back to immediately respond, thus had time to realize who he was). However, time and rational thought have calmed my jealousy and I now harbor no ill will towards most of these folks, and provided they keep their hands to themselves there's no quarrel to be had. I still feel jealousy rear it's ugly head every now and then (and if you know what to look for, you can tell when I'm tweaked about it), but I'm glad to have it; it's a motivating force.
Relationship based jealousy is not the only kind, however. Lately I've been contending with another form of jealousy. My dear Wendy has a horrible work schedule, and ends up missing a lot of fun events because of it. I, on the other hand, have a good amount of free time. Back when I had no social life, this wasn't much of an issue, but lately it's starting to become the hot-button issue. She's jealous that I get to go and do fun things with people while she's stuck at work. And that's a completely normal thing to be upset about. I understand where she's coming from and how shitty it feels. So much so that I'm completely willing to not attend these social functions without her. I'm more than willing to make that sacrifice so that she doesn't have to come home to an empty apartment. I shouldn't have to, but I can and will. I only wish I had another solution to the issue, all or nothing is never a good compromise.
Anyways, I'm not really sure where I was going with this whole jealousy thing. I have no solutions, nor anything profound to say on the topic. I mostly wanted to think my way through the situation, and I can do that best by (dis)organizing those thoughts in words. Sometimes I wish I some emotions had toggle switches.
Jealousy is a hard driving force in our lives, whether you know it or not. A destructive combination of envy, anger, and possessiveness, it dictates how we react to many everyday situations. Like all emotions, it's level of influence varies from person to person as does their level of control over it. We all are capable of it, and we all feel it from time to time. Sometimes it drives us to do some insane things.
I never thought I was a very jealous person, but I was way wrong about that. I also thought it was a simple emotion with simple triggers, thus easy to defeat and reason with. Wrong again. My prime jealousy is a simple one to understand, yet complicated in it's details (which I will not go into). I am jealous of men. More specifically, men other than myself. More specifically than that, men other than myself who have had relationships with my fiancée or who act inappropriately towards her. It's probably the number one thing that comes to mind when one thinks of jealousy, and for good reason, it's probably the single thing most (if not all) people have jealousy about.
I used to go into bouts of intense inner rage and turmoil when I would interact with men whom I know she had been with before, and I nearly punch a gay friend of hers when he grabbed her bottom once (the surprise of the act was the only thing that saved him, I was too taken back to immediately respond, thus had time to realize who he was). However, time and rational thought have calmed my jealousy and I now harbor no ill will towards most of these folks, and provided they keep their hands to themselves there's no quarrel to be had. I still feel jealousy rear it's ugly head every now and then (and if you know what to look for, you can tell when I'm tweaked about it), but I'm glad to have it; it's a motivating force.
Relationship based jealousy is not the only kind, however. Lately I've been contending with another form of jealousy. My dear Wendy has a horrible work schedule, and ends up missing a lot of fun events because of it. I, on the other hand, have a good amount of free time. Back when I had no social life, this wasn't much of an issue, but lately it's starting to become the hot-button issue. She's jealous that I get to go and do fun things with people while she's stuck at work. And that's a completely normal thing to be upset about. I understand where she's coming from and how shitty it feels. So much so that I'm completely willing to not attend these social functions without her. I'm more than willing to make that sacrifice so that she doesn't have to come home to an empty apartment. I shouldn't have to, but I can and will. I only wish I had another solution to the issue, all or nothing is never a good compromise.
Anyways, I'm not really sure where I was going with this whole jealousy thing. I have no solutions, nor anything profound to say on the topic. I mostly wanted to think my way through the situation, and I can do that best by (dis)organizing those thoughts in words. Sometimes I wish I some emotions had toggle switches.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
On Getting Married
In just about a month I'll be married.
I never thought that would happen. Ever. Neither did my family or, I imagine, my friends.
Eighteen months ago I was 27, a college drop-out, newly unemployed, only ever had one girlfriend, and a virgin. I lived in a basement apartment and played EverQuest all day. I regularly visited a support group forum for folks in my situation, but I did nothing proactive. I wasn't the happiest dude on the planet, but I was content and knew my place in the world.
Now I'm 28, a college drop-out, still unemployed, engaged, and have had more sex than a man my age could even dream of. I share a nice one bedroom apartment with my fiancée, and apply for jobs/watch Netflix all day. I pop into the old support forums every now and then to chat with the folks I miss chatting with. I thought I was the happiest dude on the planet, but I'm far from content and have no idea of my place in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I love my fiancé more than life itself. I am happy with her, very happy. However it has become apparent that I am more stressed and worried than I ever was. As my mom put it, I used to be all smiles and laughter and now I'm always depressed and serious. What brought this on? I'm happy, I'm in love, I'm finally reached some major goals in life. Why am I not satisfied with that?
The answer lies in my views of what a boyfriend and husband is and should be.
I can't live up to my own expectations, and it's bringing me down. I should be able to provide for her, but I can't. I should be able to treat her like a lady, and I do my best, but I can't do everything. She should never have to worry about anything ever again, but I can't. I'm lazy, selfish, out of shape, and have nothing to offer her. I do what I can to be the boyfriend/husband I need to be, but that's not enough in my eyes. And the wedding isn't helping.
I'm hoping beyond all hope that once the wedding is done and over with that I can relax and be happy. I'm dying from stress and anxiety over it. I need everything to be perfect, to go according to plan, or my world will collapse. Wendy's happiness is my sole concern now, and if she is unhappy for even a moment on her wedding day then I feel I will have failed as her husband. I'd prepare to commit seppuku but that would just upset Wendy even more.
I'm unsure if I'm prepared for the journey ahead of me, but I am very happy to be undertaking it. When I told Wendy last September that I intended to marry her someday, I meant it. I knew then that I loved her and that the love I had experienced in the past was a pale imitation of what I felt with her. I had only known her 3 months when I said those words, but I knew what I had found. It might not have been love at first sight, but it was damn close. I'm scared and nervous and anxious about the wedding, but not about marriage. I might not be the husband I should be, but I know that I'm not perfect and never will be. I've just got to keep on striving to be the best husband I can and never let my wife forget how much I love and care for her.
Until then, I wish I had a xanax or something. This wedding is going to be the death of me.
I never thought that would happen. Ever. Neither did my family or, I imagine, my friends.
Eighteen months ago I was 27, a college drop-out, newly unemployed, only ever had one girlfriend, and a virgin. I lived in a basement apartment and played EverQuest all day. I regularly visited a support group forum for folks in my situation, but I did nothing proactive. I wasn't the happiest dude on the planet, but I was content and knew my place in the world.
Now I'm 28, a college drop-out, still unemployed, engaged, and have had more sex than a man my age could even dream of. I share a nice one bedroom apartment with my fiancée, and apply for jobs/watch Netflix all day. I pop into the old support forums every now and then to chat with the folks I miss chatting with. I thought I was the happiest dude on the planet, but I'm far from content and have no idea of my place in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I love my fiancé more than life itself. I am happy with her, very happy. However it has become apparent that I am more stressed and worried than I ever was. As my mom put it, I used to be all smiles and laughter and now I'm always depressed and serious. What brought this on? I'm happy, I'm in love, I'm finally reached some major goals in life. Why am I not satisfied with that?
The answer lies in my views of what a boyfriend and husband is and should be.
I can't live up to my own expectations, and it's bringing me down. I should be able to provide for her, but I can't. I should be able to treat her like a lady, and I do my best, but I can't do everything. She should never have to worry about anything ever again, but I can't. I'm lazy, selfish, out of shape, and have nothing to offer her. I do what I can to be the boyfriend/husband I need to be, but that's not enough in my eyes. And the wedding isn't helping.
I'm hoping beyond all hope that once the wedding is done and over with that I can relax and be happy. I'm dying from stress and anxiety over it. I need everything to be perfect, to go according to plan, or my world will collapse. Wendy's happiness is my sole concern now, and if she is unhappy for even a moment on her wedding day then I feel I will have failed as her husband. I'd prepare to commit seppuku but that would just upset Wendy even more.
I'm unsure if I'm prepared for the journey ahead of me, but I am very happy to be undertaking it. When I told Wendy last September that I intended to marry her someday, I meant it. I knew then that I loved her and that the love I had experienced in the past was a pale imitation of what I felt with her. I had only known her 3 months when I said those words, but I knew what I had found. It might not have been love at first sight, but it was damn close. I'm scared and nervous and anxious about the wedding, but not about marriage. I might not be the husband I should be, but I know that I'm not perfect and never will be. I've just got to keep on striving to be the best husband I can and never let my wife forget how much I love and care for her.
Until then, I wish I had a xanax or something. This wedding is going to be the death of me.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Strange Dreams
It's been kind of a surreal day.
This morning I had a dream in which I watched a monk in robes spray himself in the eyes with a flammable liquid then light it aflame. If that wasn't a horrifying enough image, the fire quickly went out and the monk reapplied the spray and lit himself up again. Why was he doing this? Because some developers were tearing down the old fancy pants hotel that he used to hold meetings at. I've seen some fucked up things in my life, but it took my dreams to burn the image of a monk with flaming eyes into my brain. It freaked me out so much that I had to get out of bed, I couldn't go back to sleep.
Then later this morning I had brunch with a friend from high school, Dan. I haven't seen Dan in years and he was on his way back home from PAX, so we decided to meet up at Finnegan's. It was really nice talking to him, I haven't had the best of contact with my friends from high school due to a strict policy of just forgetting to call folks. The conversation took my back ten years, and was a little strange in a good way. I tried to convince him to come up in the spring for MisCon 25, so we'll see how that goes.
Other than that, I've just been in this kind of strange head-space where nothing really seems concrete or corporeal. I think my lack of sleep has been keeping me in a waking dream of sorts all day. I did get a little bit of crafting done, though I continued to curse my cordless Dremel for being a nutless piece of shit. All I asked of it was to drill a couple pilot holes and it barely completed the job. I think I put a good cordless drill on our wedding registry (hint, hint). Anyways, now all I need is some wood stain and I'll have a nice spreader bar. I kind of wish I had some brass or copper end caps and bigger eye-bolts, it would look really nice but would require a real drill. I could go on and on (and I did, then edited it out), but I think I'll save that for a special post all of it's own.
Anyways, I'm a little pissed off a the gym right now. Wendy and I tried to go get in some cardio yesterday after she got off work but our key-cards wouldn't open the door. There were other people in there so I know the doors were working just fine, and we're payed up through October so there's no reason why our key-cards shouldn't work. I stopped by today to bitch about it but I couldn't find the attendant on duty. We'll swing by today after work and see if it was just a glitch, but if they don't work again then we're going to have to go in tomorrow and kick in some heads.
Well, I'm out of steam and I'm still operating in this fog of sleepiness so I'll call that the rant of the day. Have a good one.
This morning I had a dream in which I watched a monk in robes spray himself in the eyes with a flammable liquid then light it aflame. If that wasn't a horrifying enough image, the fire quickly went out and the monk reapplied the spray and lit himself up again. Why was he doing this? Because some developers were tearing down the old fancy pants hotel that he used to hold meetings at. I've seen some fucked up things in my life, but it took my dreams to burn the image of a monk with flaming eyes into my brain. It freaked me out so much that I had to get out of bed, I couldn't go back to sleep.
Then later this morning I had brunch with a friend from high school, Dan. I haven't seen Dan in years and he was on his way back home from PAX, so we decided to meet up at Finnegan's. It was really nice talking to him, I haven't had the best of contact with my friends from high school due to a strict policy of just forgetting to call folks. The conversation took my back ten years, and was a little strange in a good way. I tried to convince him to come up in the spring for MisCon 25, so we'll see how that goes.
Other than that, I've just been in this kind of strange head-space where nothing really seems concrete or corporeal. I think my lack of sleep has been keeping me in a waking dream of sorts all day. I did get a little bit of crafting done, though I continued to curse my cordless Dremel for being a nutless piece of shit. All I asked of it was to drill a couple pilot holes and it barely completed the job. I think I put a good cordless drill on our wedding registry (hint, hint). Anyways, now all I need is some wood stain and I'll have a nice spreader bar. I kind of wish I had some brass or copper end caps and bigger eye-bolts, it would look really nice but would require a real drill. I could go on and on (and I did, then edited it out), but I think I'll save that for a special post all of it's own.
Anyways, I'm a little pissed off a the gym right now. Wendy and I tried to go get in some cardio yesterday after she got off work but our key-cards wouldn't open the door. There were other people in there so I know the doors were working just fine, and we're payed up through October so there's no reason why our key-cards shouldn't work. I stopped by today to bitch about it but I couldn't find the attendant on duty. We'll swing by today after work and see if it was just a glitch, but if they don't work again then we're going to have to go in tomorrow and kick in some heads.
Well, I'm out of steam and I'm still operating in this fog of sleepiness so I'll call that the rant of the day. Have a good one.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Anthem of the Day: Aphex Twin - Come to Daddy
I love this song, and for some reason it feels appropriate today. :)
The First Steps
My thoughts are scrambled, incoherent, a jumble of mixed and matched ideas, words, visions, experiences, memories, hopes, fears, daydreams, nightmares, and utter shit. If you can follow this stream of mental debris with any semblance of understanding then I congratulate you.
These are my first steps in a wild and new direction in life. I'm 28, weeks from being married, unemployed, and for the first time in my life, hopeful and optimistic about the paths that lie ahead. Previous wandering have been confined to the darkness of my own dreary existence, limited by fear and lack of imagination. Today the sun has risen and shown me a world without paths worn in the soil by my own feet. I looked out upon a wide landscape with fields of green grass, tall trees, majestic mountains, and clear skies. The dark and rocky places of the past are still around, littered like the ruins of war, but they no longer dominate the world. The going won't always be easy, and in fact I expect it to be the most difficult journey of my life.
I have with me a companion, a kindred soul who sees what I see (albeit from her own unique perspective) and shares my excitement and trepidation about the voyage ahead. I love my travel companion, my friend, my wife. With her help, this once desolate world is now populated no longer with ghosts and phantoms, but souls made whole by familiarity and friendship. These kind faces dot the paths yet to be, way-stations on the road, words of encouragement and hope on their lips and helpful hands to guide us.
I hope to learn many things in my adventures, and get to know a few of my demons. Conquering them is impossible, you cannot defeat yourself, but learning to use them and ignore their influence is possible. I name them Fear, Jealousy, Selfishness, Ignorance, and Bob.
Sorry about that, I realized I was getting way to into the "journey" metaphor and had to break free somehow. Anyways, I made this blog so that I had someplace to expand upon my thoughts that wouldn't force them down other people's throats. When I post things on Facebook and Twitter people are forced to read them, it's right there in front of them. I don't like to force anybody to deal with my rambling, emotional ass so I decided the blog was the way to go. Now nobody has to read this drivel unless they wish to, and if they don't like it then they have nobody to blame but themselves and are welcome to not return in the future.
Besides, Facebook limits how much I can rant, and Twitter even more so (though it's amazing how expressive that 140 character limit allows you to be, it's almost preferable to Facebook's 400-something).
Why not just keep an offline journal or diary? Because writing something that nobody is supposed to read seems very counterproductive. I've never written a journal that I never wanted anybody to read. Pouring emotions and ideas into words that you don't intend to share is a waste. If you're going to do that, you might as well keep them in your head or never save them. Every idea, every emotion, is an important part of you. It's a reflection of the world through your experience, and that reflection should be shared. Not enough people take the moment to shift their perspective to that of some one else, to see the world through the eyes of another. Not bothering to view things from an alternate perspective is akin to poking your own eye out. In that spirit, I intend to share my words.
A warning: sex and sexuality are big topics in my life, and I'd like to discuss them openly and freely. Sometimes it will be intelligent discussions, other times it will be vulgar bragging. For a person who is supposedly intelligent I can be very crass, though I will try not to be.
I think that about wraps it up for the moment. I hope this lengthly wall of text hasn't bored you too much. Thank you for reading. :)
These are my first steps in a wild and new direction in life. I'm 28, weeks from being married, unemployed, and for the first time in my life, hopeful and optimistic about the paths that lie ahead. Previous wandering have been confined to the darkness of my own dreary existence, limited by fear and lack of imagination. Today the sun has risen and shown me a world without paths worn in the soil by my own feet. I looked out upon a wide landscape with fields of green grass, tall trees, majestic mountains, and clear skies. The dark and rocky places of the past are still around, littered like the ruins of war, but they no longer dominate the world. The going won't always be easy, and in fact I expect it to be the most difficult journey of my life.
I have with me a companion, a kindred soul who sees what I see (albeit from her own unique perspective) and shares my excitement and trepidation about the voyage ahead. I love my travel companion, my friend, my wife. With her help, this once desolate world is now populated no longer with ghosts and phantoms, but souls made whole by familiarity and friendship. These kind faces dot the paths yet to be, way-stations on the road, words of encouragement and hope on their lips and helpful hands to guide us.
I hope to learn many things in my adventures, and get to know a few of my demons. Conquering them is impossible, you cannot defeat yourself, but learning to use them and ignore their influence is possible. I name them Fear, Jealousy, Selfishness, Ignorance, and Bob.
Sorry about that, I realized I was getting way to into the "journey" metaphor and had to break free somehow. Anyways, I made this blog so that I had someplace to expand upon my thoughts that wouldn't force them down other people's throats. When I post things on Facebook and Twitter people are forced to read them, it's right there in front of them. I don't like to force anybody to deal with my rambling, emotional ass so I decided the blog was the way to go. Now nobody has to read this drivel unless they wish to, and if they don't like it then they have nobody to blame but themselves and are welcome to not return in the future.
Besides, Facebook limits how much I can rant, and Twitter even more so (though it's amazing how expressive that 140 character limit allows you to be, it's almost preferable to Facebook's 400-something).
Why not just keep an offline journal or diary? Because writing something that nobody is supposed to read seems very counterproductive. I've never written a journal that I never wanted anybody to read. Pouring emotions and ideas into words that you don't intend to share is a waste. If you're going to do that, you might as well keep them in your head or never save them. Every idea, every emotion, is an important part of you. It's a reflection of the world through your experience, and that reflection should be shared. Not enough people take the moment to shift their perspective to that of some one else, to see the world through the eyes of another. Not bothering to view things from an alternate perspective is akin to poking your own eye out. In that spirit, I intend to share my words.
A warning: sex and sexuality are big topics in my life, and I'd like to discuss them openly and freely. Sometimes it will be intelligent discussions, other times it will be vulgar bragging. For a person who is supposedly intelligent I can be very crass, though I will try not to be.
I think that about wraps it up for the moment. I hope this lengthly wall of text hasn't bored you too much. Thank you for reading. :)
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