Howdy howdy howdy Internet-Land, and how are you all on this fine and (well, in Bathurst at least) exceedingly overcast Tuesday? Personally I am great - I am in an excessively cheerful mood, and I have an awesome outlook on how the day is going to go. Apparently, I'm either one regeneration about caring when it comes to how old I'm getting, or I've started aging backwards - kind of like a human version of the universe (if one subscribes to the expanding/shrinking universe theory, that is.)
Alternatively, it could be a combination of the weather (I love rainy days, or even days where it just threatens rain constantly) and the fact that I didn't have to start work until 10am today. Even though having the late shift at my job means that I don't get to go home until 6pm, there is something so satisfying about being able to sleep in so late and just...I dunno...writhe around trying to soak up as much comfort as you can in those last few moments before the alarm goes off for the final time, I guess. The combination just gets me set for a great day ahead.
Another perk of not having the 8am shift at work is that I get to take the bus, instead of having to either catch a taxi, or wake up an hour earlier in order to walk to work. Speaking of walking, does anybody ever get the urge, when they are in a place with lots of twisty lanes or aisles that don't really separate from each other for very long, to get a bunch of friends and pretend that you're playing real-life Pac-Man? Well, if you do, you may be pleased to know that yesterday Lydia and myself spent a great deal of time running from the ghosts that were Spud, Squiggles, and Emma (not that they knew, at first, what was going on...) inside Target. It was most fun, I haven't seen Lydia giggle so much in a shopping centre since...well...ever I think.
But anyway, back to my trip to work - this morning on the bus I had a brainwave. I tend to have them on the bus, or waiting for the bus (I actually have a note in my phone about 'back-up-blogs', in case I can't think of anything, from the fact that my mind wanders whilst waiting for my public transport.) I was thinking about how people have theme-days in their lives, often without actually noticing them. 'Casual Friday' at workplaces that are more frequently quite formal is a good example of this. 'Casual Fribsday' at workplaces that are constantly trying to undermine your personal freedoms and, everyone is quite sure, are evil (almost overtly so) is a not-so-good example (but I couldn't resist the Better Off Ted reference. I mean, seriously, why cancel a show that is clever, funny, and really just quite entertaining...?)
What I thought I would do, then, is have a series of theme-days, not just for the blog (although I do intend on having at least one theme-day for the blog, which I shall discuss shortly), but rather for my general life as well. Okay, so I say a series, but really what I mean is one theme day for my general life, and maybe one or two for the blog. But you should know, but now, that hyperbole is somewhat of a weakness of mine (when I'm not being exceedingly literal, of course...)
Indeed, though, I have decided that from now on I am going to have 'Weigh-In Wednesdays', as a group of friends and I are trying to lose weight and get fit and all that junk. I could have, of course, weighed myself on any day of the week (as long as it is consistent) but seriously, who wants to have 'Tummy-Check Thursdays' or 'Fatty-Fatty-Fat-Fat Fridays' (alliteration, I believe, is key to a good theme-day, it's why 'Casual Friday' hasn't taken off in more workplaces around the world.) So tomorrow I weigh myself, and see if my diet is working - it should, because I occasionally do preliminary weigh-ins just to see, you know, how much various bodily functions have reduced my weight by (it's more fascinating than disgusting, which is the most important thing.)
As for the blog, I have decided that I am going to have 'Fiction Fridays'. This is the concept that I came up with today on the bus that prompted the whole inevitable spiel that was this blog post. Basically, what will happen is that, on Fridays, instead of a rant (as you normally get, and are indeed getting now) you will receive a piece of fiction that I have written - the next part in an ongoing serial, if you will. Think of it like Passions - The Novel. Except mine will be better written. And mine will make more sense. The theme is, most likely, going to be my attempt at writing a story-line for a fighting game that is actually coherent and plot-driven.
If this sounds like something that would interest you, please let me know. If it sounds like the most pants idea of all time, also let me know. I want to keep you guys happy, after all.
The moral of this story is that one day I am going to dress up in a blue shirt, and make myself really really pale. I shall, for this day, call myself Inky. I am then going to convince three of my friends to dress up in a similarly pallid fashion, only each wearing one of the following coloured shirts: red, pink, or, orange. I shall then call them Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde, respectively. Following this, we will walk around Big W, Target, or somewhere similar until we find a person wearing all yellow. At this point we will chase them until they figure out our game, take some kind of medication, and beat us up. It will be ever-so-much fun. Life is magical ^_^
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Exciting Conclusion...
Hey everyone out there in Internet Land - I'm back, and just like I promised, I have brought with me the thrilling outcome of the Murder Mystery (not that myself and several other people didn't already know, but let's pretend that nobody did ^_^.) Admittedly I am rather late, but it is still Monday, and so you can't say that I haven't stuck to my word.
Before I do tell you about what went down at the end of the Murder Mystery, however I feel that it would be prudent of me to explain why I am so late posting this - the latest of a string of blogs (man, a new one of these things seems to go up every weekday, what is with that?!) I truly do have a good excuse, I swear...Well...I think it's a good excuse anyway.
You see, it all started yesterday when I decided to get some chairs for the new table that I bought. Well, okay, really that has absolutely nothing to do with the story - although many thanks do go to The Letter F and Teresa for helping me out with that. Also, I suppose, to my Nan who gave me the money to purchase the chairs. And the guys at the Junktion (the local tip-shop) for giving me a 20% discount on the chairs. But I digress (and needless, too, although I am more than aware that I'm doing it...It's not particularly "tension" that I wish to create, so much as annoyance...)
Were I to really go back to the start of this game, then I should take you back approximately 25 years and 8 months, when my parents fornicated - okay, that is a mental image I did not need to give myself. But yes, at some time, approximately 8 months after my parents did the nasty in the pasty, I was born (I was premature, you see...) and so that would (I suppose) make today my birthday. Unless I've been lied to my entire life. I'm sure that it's a possibility, some people go to incredible lengths to do that kind of thing to people...
Anyway, today's anniversary of the day my mother forced me from her uterus is the 25th I have celebrated - unless you hold with the long-standing theory of Lydia and others, that I am in fact The Doctor, in which case it is simply been 25 years since I last regenerated - was pretty darn good. I got $70 off my family ($20 of which went to buy chairs for my table...) and I got to have lunch with Nan and Pop, and spent the rest of the day with Spud, Lydia, Squiggles, and Emma.
I must say that, considering that I don't particularly make a big deal out of birthdays (I only wish someone a happy birthday, usually, if I see them in person...) I can understand why someone would. I have so far gotten away with getting Shotgun in Spud's car, even though Lydia was travelling with us. I got shouted lunch, and I got to break my diet for the day. I got to play the games I wanted all day. Overall, it is kind of my dream-day (which, I suppose, says a lot about me as a person, which is kind of upsetting...)
So I guess that's all I really have to say about my birthday, and the fact that today was awesome. I hope you enjoyed my birthday blog, and I really do apologise for the lack of quality - I'll return to my normal standard of broadcast tomorrow, when I'm not being pestered to come play Munchkin because I have to head off to bed in two hours...
The moral of the story, today, is that I didn't really forget that I promised to tell you the outcome of the murder mystery. The killer of Duncan was, of course, Franklin Chalmers (played by Spud) because he was so filled with obsessive lust for Janet that he would let nothing stand in his way to be with her...and Duncan just would not yield. The second killer, however, was Janet (played by Lydia) who knew that Duncan and Bradley were in a homosexual relationship together - effectively (well, actually, more than effectively, but didn't that sound cool) cheating on Janet...This would ruin her plan...The rich can normally get away with these things. These two...
Also did...
Before I do tell you about what went down at the end of the Murder Mystery, however I feel that it would be prudent of me to explain why I am so late posting this - the latest of a string of blogs (man, a new one of these things seems to go up every weekday, what is with that?!) I truly do have a good excuse, I swear...Well...I think it's a good excuse anyway.
You see, it all started yesterday when I decided to get some chairs for the new table that I bought. Well, okay, really that has absolutely nothing to do with the story - although many thanks do go to The Letter F and Teresa for helping me out with that. Also, I suppose, to my Nan who gave me the money to purchase the chairs. And the guys at the Junktion (the local tip-shop) for giving me a 20% discount on the chairs. But I digress (and needless, too, although I am more than aware that I'm doing it...It's not particularly "tension" that I wish to create, so much as annoyance...)
Were I to really go back to the start of this game, then I should take you back approximately 25 years and 8 months, when my parents fornicated - okay, that is a mental image I did not need to give myself. But yes, at some time, approximately 8 months after my parents did the nasty in the pasty, I was born (I was premature, you see...) and so that would (I suppose) make today my birthday. Unless I've been lied to my entire life. I'm sure that it's a possibility, some people go to incredible lengths to do that kind of thing to people...
Anyway, today's anniversary of the day my mother forced me from her uterus is the 25th I have celebrated - unless you hold with the long-standing theory of Lydia and others, that I am in fact The Doctor, in which case it is simply been 25 years since I last regenerated - was pretty darn good. I got $70 off my family ($20 of which went to buy chairs for my table...) and I got to have lunch with Nan and Pop, and spent the rest of the day with Spud, Lydia, Squiggles, and Emma.
I must say that, considering that I don't particularly make a big deal out of birthdays (I only wish someone a happy birthday, usually, if I see them in person...) I can understand why someone would. I have so far gotten away with getting Shotgun in Spud's car, even though Lydia was travelling with us. I got shouted lunch, and I got to break my diet for the day. I got to play the games I wanted all day. Overall, it is kind of my dream-day (which, I suppose, says a lot about me as a person, which is kind of upsetting...)
So I guess that's all I really have to say about my birthday, and the fact that today was awesome. I hope you enjoyed my birthday blog, and I really do apologise for the lack of quality - I'll return to my normal standard of broadcast tomorrow, when I'm not being pestered to come play Munchkin because I have to head off to bed in two hours...
The moral of the story, today, is that I didn't really forget that I promised to tell you the outcome of the murder mystery. The killer of Duncan was, of course, Franklin Chalmers (played by Spud) because he was so filled with obsessive lust for Janet that he would let nothing stand in his way to be with her...and Duncan just would not yield. The second killer, however, was Janet (played by Lydia) who knew that Duncan and Bradley were in a homosexual relationship together - effectively (well, actually, more than effectively, but didn't that sound cool) cheating on Janet...This would ruin her plan...The rich can normally get away with these things. These two...
Also did...
Friday, January 7, 2011
Dungeons, Dragons, Ghouls, Ghosts, Murder, and Mystery
A New Year post, I feel, is necessary for almost any blog - and so here - now - this is the time when I make good on my want to tell you about the changeover from 2010 (the year I have dubbed that of fake-binary - due to all of the "Oh My God looks it's 10/10/10" when in fact the '2' breaks that completely) to 2011 (the year I am dubbing the year of legitimate ternary - due to the many occurrences of the numbers '0', '1', and '2' appearing in dates.) Admittedly, yes, it is slightly belated - but you know what they say: "better late than never" (unless, of course, you were waiting for an ambulance, in which case 'late' and 'never' may as well be the same thing...)
New Year was, for me at least, simply marvellous. On New Year's eve Lydia, Andy, Spudless, and myself went to the Adventure Park near the Bathurst Hospital to watch the most spectacular fireworks show of my life (of course, the only other ones I have seen latest for about 5 minutes, so they weren't hard to top...) where we serendipitously met up with Shorty, and ate pizza on a blanket under the exploding pyrotechnic devices. Really, no word other than 'Magical' could possibly describe the sensation of doing that.
But that splendiferous occasion is not the topic of my writings today, Dear Reader, oh-no-not-at-all-no-way-no-how. Instead I shall be telling you of what I did on New Year's Eve Eve (i.e. two Wednesdays ago.) The new year period is, ostensibly, a time for parties - most people decide to just throw some kind of "raging bender" (or whatever it is they call them) and be done with it. But not me - that is not how I roll. I decided to be tricky and throw a Murder Mystery party, for a small group of my friends.
The mystery, which I called 'Natural 20', was set at a D&D game, and involved my stuffed toy tiger Felth as Duncan Marchent (the deceased); myself as Bradley Stotch (Duncan's study partner); Squiggles as Everett Tester (Duncan's best friend); Emma as Magenta Marchent (Duncan's younger sister); Lydia as Janet Hartman (Duncan's girlfriend); Spudless as Franklin Chalmers (Duncan's roommate); Andy as Edward Stotch (Bradley's twin brother); and Noni as Columbia Hart (A Canadian exchange student.)
During the D&D game, Duncan and Bradley had a bit of a fight over the way his character was acting, and so Duncan asked to talk to Brad alone, in his room. Brad got in there to find that Duncan was not in the mood for talking...He was dead...The group crowded around the body, and fear gripped their souls - someone amongst them was a killer. Brad had run away from the group during the chaos, and tension rose when he was not only found deceased, but poisoned - cyanide.
It didn't take long before suspicions rose, and paranoia began to tear through the group - investigations by various party-goers uncovered various rumours and facts - including the notion that Columbia was somehow related to Janet; the fact that Magenta was pregnant; the possibility that Duncan stole something important from Everett and was willing to get it back at any cost; and the fact that Brad and Duncan were having a secret affair - amongst other "discoveries".
During the course of the night it was friendships were made, and broken - trust was gained and lost. Who could have been so cold blooded as to kill not one, but two innocent people...Or was it not a single killer, but two working together (or perhaps...separately!) When the police arrived at the scene the accusations flew around like dung in a monkey exhibit - "Did you know that Franklin is obsessed with Janet?!" "Oh yeah, well Edward is a member of some bizarre cult!!" "Hey, my brother didn't steal anything from me, maybe it's someone who was spurned by the pair..."
It tore the group apart.
In the end, the police came to the same conclusion as the group, and arrested the individual they found the most likely to have committed the murder.
But did they get the right person? Tune in Monday to find out...
The moral of this story is that cliffhangers rule, but only when I already know the outcome. When they happen on TV (for instance, in a Doctor Who two part story) I am generally quite displeased at the fact that I must wait a whole week to discover just how The Doctor will escape the latest trap set for him by his enemies...Oh Doctor...You're fantastic - swoon.
New Year was, for me at least, simply marvellous. On New Year's eve Lydia, Andy, Spudless, and myself went to the Adventure Park near the Bathurst Hospital to watch the most spectacular fireworks show of my life (of course, the only other ones I have seen latest for about 5 minutes, so they weren't hard to top...) where we serendipitously met up with Shorty, and ate pizza on a blanket under the exploding pyrotechnic devices. Really, no word other than 'Magical' could possibly describe the sensation of doing that.
But that splendiferous occasion is not the topic of my writings today, Dear Reader, oh-no-not-at-all-no-way-no-how. Instead I shall be telling you of what I did on New Year's Eve Eve (i.e. two Wednesdays ago.) The new year period is, ostensibly, a time for parties - most people decide to just throw some kind of "raging bender" (or whatever it is they call them) and be done with it. But not me - that is not how I roll. I decided to be tricky and throw a Murder Mystery party, for a small group of my friends.
The mystery, which I called 'Natural 20', was set at a D&D game, and involved my stuffed toy tiger Felth as Duncan Marchent (the deceased); myself as Bradley Stotch (Duncan's study partner); Squiggles as Everett Tester (Duncan's best friend); Emma as Magenta Marchent (Duncan's younger sister); Lydia as Janet Hartman (Duncan's girlfriend); Spudless as Franklin Chalmers (Duncan's roommate); Andy as Edward Stotch (Bradley's twin brother); and Noni as Columbia Hart (A Canadian exchange student.)
During the D&D game, Duncan and Bradley had a bit of a fight over the way his character was acting, and so Duncan asked to talk to Brad alone, in his room. Brad got in there to find that Duncan was not in the mood for talking...He was dead...The group crowded around the body, and fear gripped their souls - someone amongst them was a killer. Brad had run away from the group during the chaos, and tension rose when he was not only found deceased, but poisoned - cyanide.
It didn't take long before suspicions rose, and paranoia began to tear through the group - investigations by various party-goers uncovered various rumours and facts - including the notion that Columbia was somehow related to Janet; the fact that Magenta was pregnant; the possibility that Duncan stole something important from Everett and was willing to get it back at any cost; and the fact that Brad and Duncan were having a secret affair - amongst other "discoveries".
During the course of the night it was friendships were made, and broken - trust was gained and lost. Who could have been so cold blooded as to kill not one, but two innocent people...Or was it not a single killer, but two working together (or perhaps...separately!) When the police arrived at the scene the accusations flew around like dung in a monkey exhibit - "Did you know that Franklin is obsessed with Janet?!" "Oh yeah, well Edward is a member of some bizarre cult!!" "Hey, my brother didn't steal anything from me, maybe it's someone who was spurned by the pair..."
It tore the group apart.
In the end, the police came to the same conclusion as the group, and arrested the individual they found the most likely to have committed the murder.
But did they get the right person? Tune in Monday to find out...
The moral of this story is that cliffhangers rule, but only when I already know the outcome. When they happen on TV (for instance, in a Doctor Who two part story) I am generally quite displeased at the fact that I must wait a whole week to discover just how The Doctor will escape the latest trap set for him by his enemies...Oh Doctor...You're fantastic - swoon.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
It's Not A Romance Language, But That's Okay, Because I'm Not A Romantic
Break out in tears of mourning, my dear Internet People, for I may have just told the largest lie of my life. Well, I say the largest lie of my life - in reality I may be being slightly hyperbolic. That is, of course, unless we place a restriction on the statement...Humm...Okay: "I have told the largest lie that I have ever told inside a blog title." That doesn't have nearly the same ring to it - why must being dramatic also be filled with such linguistic atrocities?
Hmm - I appear to have diverged from my intended topic quite rapidly today - woe betide you then, dear reader, for this is only paragraph two, and we all know that there are much worse things to come. Before I do go back to what I wanted to talk about, however, I figure I should tell you just what my lie was (after all, it's so dreadfully unfair to just leave you hanging like that...) You see, dear readers, I am quite the romantic (although my seemingly cold/uncaring exterior may suggest otherwise) and am capable of showing more than my share of affection when I want to.
But that wouldn't have made for a very interesting blog title...Or perhaps it would have simply been too long and unwieldy..."It's not a romance language, but that's okay, because whilst I am quite romantic internally I am also aware that the term 'romance language' refers not to the fact that the language itself sounds romantic, but rather that it is derived from Vulgar Latin." No, I can't see that making it up there at all. Anyway - the reason I speak of the romance languages (which include such delights as Spanish, French, and Italian) is because I want to learn Japanese. How's that for a logic jump?
I have been trying for some time to learn Japanese now, and I have got a bit of it down. I know the basics of sentence structure, I have a (quite limited) vocabulary, and I know how to conjugate verbs into a couple of different forms. I can, for instance, say "boku wa neko wo kuroi desu" - "My cat is black". Not a very useful statement (unless I'm talking to someone about non-existent felines...) I am also capable of the slightly more helpful "anata wa tabetai ka" - "Do you want to eat?" (I think...If anyone could verify that for me, that'd be great - and Google translate does not count!)
In my quest for linguistic perfection I have used many tools and techniques to try and help myself not only learn the grammar of an entirely new language, but also increase my vocabulary at the same time. I have several Japanese language manga which I have tried to read at different times (although I usually give up because I don't have anybody to ask when I'm having troubles), I watch subbed anime and actually listen to it, rather than just read the subtitles, and I have a workbook that I tried going through (but without a teacher, it was kind of useless...)
So it seems that I have learnt a life lesson for myself from this - I really shouldn't try to teach myself a language! Instead, I need someone to help me along the way - and so what I'm proposing to do is have a kind of "penpal" thing going on with a fluent speaker of the language. This way, I not only get to learn something new, but I also get to make a whole new friend! Win-freaking-Win, Baby!! If you decide that you'd like to help me learn Japanese (or if you know someone who could help me [or if you just want to e-mail me to talk anyway]) then my e-mail address is dirtytiger@live.com.au. I look forward to hearing from you ^_^.
The moral of this story is that language is a funny thing, and actually inventing a coherent language is exceptionally difficult. Of the invented languages that I enjoy, my absolute favourite would have to be the Futurama "Alienese" - with Sarus coming a very close second. It is only the fact that Sarus has an exceptionally limited (and, indeed, incomplete) vocabulary that it does not rank number 1. If you have a spare moment, you really should read into it - it's really cool and quite well thought out as a concept. What other language would let me go: "** * * ***" and have it actually mean something?
Hmm - I appear to have diverged from my intended topic quite rapidly today - woe betide you then, dear reader, for this is only paragraph two, and we all know that there are much worse things to come. Before I do go back to what I wanted to talk about, however, I figure I should tell you just what my lie was (after all, it's so dreadfully unfair to just leave you hanging like that...) You see, dear readers, I am quite the romantic (although my seemingly cold/uncaring exterior may suggest otherwise) and am capable of showing more than my share of affection when I want to.
But that wouldn't have made for a very interesting blog title...Or perhaps it would have simply been too long and unwieldy..."It's not a romance language, but that's okay, because whilst I am quite romantic internally I am also aware that the term 'romance language' refers not to the fact that the language itself sounds romantic, but rather that it is derived from Vulgar Latin." No, I can't see that making it up there at all. Anyway - the reason I speak of the romance languages (which include such delights as Spanish, French, and Italian) is because I want to learn Japanese. How's that for a logic jump?
I have been trying for some time to learn Japanese now, and I have got a bit of it down. I know the basics of sentence structure, I have a (quite limited) vocabulary, and I know how to conjugate verbs into a couple of different forms. I can, for instance, say "boku wa neko wo kuroi desu" - "My cat is black". Not a very useful statement (unless I'm talking to someone about non-existent felines...) I am also capable of the slightly more helpful "anata wa tabetai ka" - "Do you want to eat?" (I think...If anyone could verify that for me, that'd be great - and Google translate does not count!)
In my quest for linguistic perfection I have used many tools and techniques to try and help myself not only learn the grammar of an entirely new language, but also increase my vocabulary at the same time. I have several Japanese language manga which I have tried to read at different times (although I usually give up because I don't have anybody to ask when I'm having troubles), I watch subbed anime and actually listen to it, rather than just read the subtitles, and I have a workbook that I tried going through (but without a teacher, it was kind of useless...)
So it seems that I have learnt a life lesson for myself from this - I really shouldn't try to teach myself a language! Instead, I need someone to help me along the way - and so what I'm proposing to do is have a kind of "penpal" thing going on with a fluent speaker of the language. This way, I not only get to learn something new, but I also get to make a whole new friend! Win-freaking-Win, Baby!! If you decide that you'd like to help me learn Japanese (or if you know someone who could help me [or if you just want to e-mail me to talk anyway]) then my e-mail address is dirtytiger@live.com.au. I look forward to hearing from you ^_^.
The moral of this story is that language is a funny thing, and actually inventing a coherent language is exceptionally difficult. Of the invented languages that I enjoy, my absolute favourite would have to be the Futurama "Alienese" - with Sarus coming a very close second. It is only the fact that Sarus has an exceptionally limited (and, indeed, incomplete) vocabulary that it does not rank number 1. If you have a spare moment, you really should read into it - it's really cool and quite well thought out as a concept. What other language would let me go: "** * * ***" and have it actually mean something?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Muh More Puh Guh - Or - How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love...Um...Parodical Blog Titles
Howdy Internet Land - Tiger here, with a gamer-guy's confession. I don't "get" WoW. Sure, I understand the basics of how to play it (I mean, I obviously wouldn't get the more in depth stuff like the best way to kill certain enemies and stuff, because I don't have the experience) it's some of the less game-play oriented aspects of this World of Warcraft hoojiggy that just...well...cause me ever-so-much confusion and bafflement.
Now, this blog is not supposed to be a rant about why I don't like WoW - mainly because I could potentially enjoy WoW were it not for the following (which, as I stated above, I just don't understand.) World of Warcraft appears, to me at least, to be not so much about a fun story that I really become engaged in, and less about being a second job. A job that I have to pay for on a monthly basis.
Now, admittedly, there are story quests (and there are quite a number of them...) but people don't (as I have noticed) tend to particularly engage with the story (in something resembling: "Oh no! Larissa's father is coming for dinner, but he's bringing so many guys that she needs a whole heap of boar meat to feed them...I'd better go kill some boars for the lass!"). Rather, they seem to go into a kind of autopilot mode equating somewhat to: "NPC says kills boars. Okay, kill 10 boars. Go back to NPC."
Stemming directly from this seemingly mechanical way in which game-play occurs is the second reason I don't really find WoW enjoyable - I don't need a guy who thinks he's some kind of legend just because he managed to level all of his characters to 80 in two days yelling at me because I want to play the game my own way, and not have him dictate my every move. Nothing, for me, sucks the fun out of a game more than having someone shout at me because I wanted to appreciate the area I was in, and perhaps look around a little. Let me experiment, make my own decisions, and my own mistakes. I'm playing - not you.
After several attempts at playing WoW (three, I believe, spread over a couple of years), one shot at Guild Wars, and a loathing stare at the box for Aion (they were trying to make me give my credit card details over for the free trial - nuts to that) I had all but given up on enjoying any kind of MMORPG. It is to my great surprise, then, that I find myself exceptionally excited for DC Universe Online. For those not in the know about this game, it is basically a foray into the life of a comic book superhero (or villain!), but not one that anybody would ever have read about. No, instead you are your own super-person - new to the super lifestyle - and you create your story by doing missions and performing deeds and such.
Whilst DCUO is still a subscription service (being priced at roughly $15 per month to play) I'm still exceptionally excited about the opportunities that this game offers. Perhaps it's the fact that I will be able to interact with so very many comic book characters that makes this so exciting for me. Perhaps it's the new take on the MMORPG that is what makes it seem so shiny and new. Or, given that there are still raids and such in this game, perhaps it's a sense of naive hope that this, too, won't be filled by people who yell like whooping monkeys when something doesn't go their way. Perhaps I'm just getting soft...
Whatever the reason may be for my sudden interest in this genre of game, you can be sure that you'll find me inside DC Universe Online when it comes out, so look around for me and say "Hi" if you see me. I'll let you know what my character name is when I have one (duh) and I'll tell you my faction and everything. There are, at this stage, very very few days until it comes out (9 if we buy the UK version, 6 if we buy the US one...) so get excited people. This could be really fun.
squee
The moral of this story is that, up until I started writing this blog post, I did not realise that bafflement is not only a real word, but it actually means what I thought it meant. I suppose, if you wanted to take it another way, perhaps bafflement could be a countable noun that means something along the lines of "A piece of defensive architecture designed specifically to cause the enemy to wonder just what the designer was thinking when they created it" instead of either the countable noun meaning "An interference or blockage" or the uncountable noun created by simply adding the '-ment' suffix to the more common word 'baffle'.
Now, this blog is not supposed to be a rant about why I don't like WoW - mainly because I could potentially enjoy WoW were it not for the following (which, as I stated above, I just don't understand.) World of Warcraft appears, to me at least, to be not so much about a fun story that I really become engaged in, and less about being a second job. A job that I have to pay for on a monthly basis.
Now, admittedly, there are story quests (and there are quite a number of them...) but people don't (as I have noticed) tend to particularly engage with the story (in something resembling: "Oh no! Larissa's father is coming for dinner, but he's bringing so many guys that she needs a whole heap of boar meat to feed them...I'd better go kill some boars for the lass!"). Rather, they seem to go into a kind of autopilot mode equating somewhat to: "NPC says kills boars. Okay, kill 10 boars. Go back to NPC."
Stemming directly from this seemingly mechanical way in which game-play occurs is the second reason I don't really find WoW enjoyable - I don't need a guy who thinks he's some kind of legend just because he managed to level all of his characters to 80 in two days yelling at me because I want to play the game my own way, and not have him dictate my every move. Nothing, for me, sucks the fun out of a game more than having someone shout at me because I wanted to appreciate the area I was in, and perhaps look around a little. Let me experiment, make my own decisions, and my own mistakes. I'm playing - not you.
After several attempts at playing WoW (three, I believe, spread over a couple of years), one shot at Guild Wars, and a loathing stare at the box for Aion (they were trying to make me give my credit card details over for the free trial - nuts to that) I had all but given up on enjoying any kind of MMORPG. It is to my great surprise, then, that I find myself exceptionally excited for DC Universe Online. For those not in the know about this game, it is basically a foray into the life of a comic book superhero (or villain!), but not one that anybody would ever have read about. No, instead you are your own super-person - new to the super lifestyle - and you create your story by doing missions and performing deeds and such.
Whilst DCUO is still a subscription service (being priced at roughly $15 per month to play) I'm still exceptionally excited about the opportunities that this game offers. Perhaps it's the fact that I will be able to interact with so very many comic book characters that makes this so exciting for me. Perhaps it's the new take on the MMORPG that is what makes it seem so shiny and new. Or, given that there are still raids and such in this game, perhaps it's a sense of naive hope that this, too, won't be filled by people who yell like whooping monkeys when something doesn't go their way. Perhaps I'm just getting soft...
Whatever the reason may be for my sudden interest in this genre of game, you can be sure that you'll find me inside DC Universe Online when it comes out, so look around for me and say "Hi" if you see me. I'll let you know what my character name is when I have one (duh) and I'll tell you my faction and everything. There are, at this stage, very very few days until it comes out (9 if we buy the UK version, 6 if we buy the US one...) so get excited people. This could be really fun.
squee
The moral of this story is that, up until I started writing this blog post, I did not realise that bafflement is not only a real word, but it actually means what I thought it meant. I suppose, if you wanted to take it another way, perhaps bafflement could be a countable noun that means something along the lines of "A piece of defensive architecture designed specifically to cause the enemy to wonder just what the designer was thinking when they created it" instead of either the countable noun meaning "An interference or blockage" or the uncountable noun created by simply adding the '-ment' suffix to the more common word 'baffle'.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Mothers Don't Let Your Boys Grow Up To Work In A Casual Capacity
Howdy Internet Land! I am back, after a week (or so) long "blogger's holiday" - and I am slightly ashamed to admit that I have found it kind of difficult to get back into the swing of writing stuff here *le gasp*. Not to worry though, as my current issue is probably more lack of sleep than anything else - I seem to have acquired a medium sized egg on the back of my head that makes it difficult to sleep comfortably. Combine that with the fact that I had to start work at 8:00am (which isn't too early for 'usual' people, but it's early for me), and the first session of Squiggle's Scion game that ran last night, and you have a pretty sleepy Tiger...
And not just a sleepy Tiger, but also a marginally grumpy Tiger. Oh, and an easily saddened Tiger as well. This morning, as I was working out my finances for the coming fortnight (or whatever...I'm not 100% sure on the period I'm currently budgeting for, which is partially why I'm so irritable today) it occurred to me that my Sydney trip this weekend may have to be cancelled - due entirely to a combination of the fact that I didn't get paid for the week that I was forced to take off over Christmas, and I'm not entirely sure when my next pay amount will go in.
That means that not only do I not know how much longer I have to make my last pay amount stretch for, but when I do eventually get paid, I will only get a single week's worth of money to cover a two week period (in which there may or may not be bills to pay...)
Due to this fiscal unpleasantness I am now unsure whether or not I can afford to take my Sydney trip (which was going to be my birthday present to myself) this coming weekend - my birthday is on the 10th, and I wanted to go to Sydney for ramen and other nice things (such as Kinokuniya, Paddy's Markets, and Japanese Food Shopping) around that time. This is a let down for not only myself, but also (I anticipate) for Spud and Lydia, who were going to come with me, as well as (I assume) Roo, Shibby, and my aunt Margy - the three of whom I was going to meet up with.
To avoid getting myself into some kind of depressive funk about this (which, given my current mood, could happen) I have been making efforts to discover a solution to my problem. So far I have tried convincing myself that I'd be fine, if I was just a bit tight-fisted with my money over the next month (which failed because I can't predict what the future will throw at me), and I am currently holding out until lunchtime - when I can go and see HR about when I will get paid. Still, it looks as though (short of a Birthday Miracle) I shan't be making it to Sydney this weekend.
Bum.
Any and all suggestions are welcome as to how to rectify my situation, and the above emphatic word of dislike for the situation in which I currently find myself.
The moral of this story is that, regardless of how much you enjoy your job, there are always going to be downsides. The downside in this case is the annoying level of financial worry that I get put through on a regular basis. I'm not, of course, saying that this is the fault of the job itself, nor is it the fault of my boss who gives me the shifts (she gave me all that she could, after all) - rather it is just an annoying combination of factors that wouldn't be as bad for someone who either wasn't attempting to be in the full-time work-force (e.g. a student), or someone who worried to the point of distraction over the smallest hiccup in their life. Alas, dear reader, and despair, for I am both of those things.
And not just a sleepy Tiger, but also a marginally grumpy Tiger. Oh, and an easily saddened Tiger as well. This morning, as I was working out my finances for the coming fortnight (or whatever...I'm not 100% sure on the period I'm currently budgeting for, which is partially why I'm so irritable today) it occurred to me that my Sydney trip this weekend may have to be cancelled - due entirely to a combination of the fact that I didn't get paid for the week that I was forced to take off over Christmas, and I'm not entirely sure when my next pay amount will go in.
That means that not only do I not know how much longer I have to make my last pay amount stretch for, but when I do eventually get paid, I will only get a single week's worth of money to cover a two week period (in which there may or may not be bills to pay...)
Due to this fiscal unpleasantness I am now unsure whether or not I can afford to take my Sydney trip (which was going to be my birthday present to myself) this coming weekend - my birthday is on the 10th, and I wanted to go to Sydney for ramen and other nice things (such as Kinokuniya, Paddy's Markets, and Japanese Food Shopping) around that time. This is a let down for not only myself, but also (I anticipate) for Spud and Lydia, who were going to come with me, as well as (I assume) Roo, Shibby, and my aunt Margy - the three of whom I was going to meet up with.
To avoid getting myself into some kind of depressive funk about this (which, given my current mood, could happen) I have been making efforts to discover a solution to my problem. So far I have tried convincing myself that I'd be fine, if I was just a bit tight-fisted with my money over the next month (which failed because I can't predict what the future will throw at me), and I am currently holding out until lunchtime - when I can go and see HR about when I will get paid. Still, it looks as though (short of a Birthday Miracle) I shan't be making it to Sydney this weekend.
Bum.
Any and all suggestions are welcome as to how to rectify my situation, and the above emphatic word of dislike for the situation in which I currently find myself.
The moral of this story is that, regardless of how much you enjoy your job, there are always going to be downsides. The downside in this case is the annoying level of financial worry that I get put through on a regular basis. I'm not, of course, saying that this is the fault of the job itself, nor is it the fault of my boss who gives me the shifts (she gave me all that she could, after all) - rather it is just an annoying combination of factors that wouldn't be as bad for someone who either wasn't attempting to be in the full-time work-force (e.g. a student), or someone who worried to the point of distraction over the smallest hiccup in their life. Alas, dear reader, and despair, for I am both of those things.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Never Have I Wanted So Much To Retroactively Kill John Denver
Howdy Internet Peeps, and merry merryness! First off, let me apologise for the lack of post yesterday – it was my last day at work before the holidays, and I spent all of my “down-time” trying desperately to finish the murder mystery that I'm planning for New Years Eve Eve (about which a post shall be made at some point in the future...)
This blog post is slightly unique, in the fact that I'm actually writing it whilst in the back-seat of my parents' car, travelling my merry little way up the country from Bathurst (where I live) to Inverell (where my grandparents live.) It is only by virtue of Nathan (my younger brother) deciding to drive his ute up that I am alone in the car with my parents, while Nathan himself gets to suffer the torture of spending a good (and I use the term ironically) seven hours with my youngest brother, Yuck.
The trip so far has been really nice – it's been ages since I've been along the vast majority of this road (I did make the 1.5hr journey from Bathurst to Mudgee in order to watch Yuck play football earlier this year) and seeing various pieces of scenery has brought back various memories for not only myself (such as a spot where I distinctly remember vomiting along the road's edge in my first year of university) but also my parents – my father especially has been waxing nostalgic about the area he grew up in, around Coolah, as we passed through there.
I'm going to take a break from writing for the moment, but I'll come back to it later – dad's just yelled out “OH MY GOD – THE HUMANITY!!” whilst reminiscing about a dropped sausage at a supposedly “Wet and Wild” animal park just outside of Gunnedah (we can only assume that their use of those words was also ironic due to the fact that, as my father said, the wildest thing that happened while we were there was the dropped sausage I mentioned above.)
Okay, so it's about 15 minutes since I last wrote something and I'm back for just one paragraph for the moment to tell you about THE MOST AMAZING CARVED BEARS IN THE UNIVERSE!! Whilst passing through a more than typical 30-second rural NSW village (by the name of Carroll), Mum and Dad were telling me that they had looked out some really nice, homemade wooden outdoor furniture at a place towards the end of the village. I made a joke about how Carroll must be a bit of a harlot to have so many people in her at once. Then, all of a sudden and is if from nowhere there were TWO MOTHER FUCKING LIFE-SIZED WOODEN CARVED BEARS on the side of the road. FOR SALE! Unfortunately we didn't have time to stop, and so I don't have a photo to show you, but on the way home I'll see what I can do.
Ding Dong – It's been an hour and a half since I last wrote – Greetings once more, for what is surely the penultimate paragraph (discounting, of course, my moral) of this particular post. I apologise for the apathetic alliteration and absence of assonance in that (I am ashamed at what I just wrote...) I blame the fact that we are now listening to They Might Be Giants (the Flood album!) We've had a pretty good trip, and we're winding down now towards what is hopefully the final hour of the journey. During the past hour and a half my mother (who is confined to a cast, as she broke her leg several weeks ago) has been complaining of her inability to move about, and has thus resorted to dancing – in some kind of strange reverse River Dance fashion (due to her current inability to move her bottom half, and the fact that he top half is comparatively over-mobile) to alleviate her boredom. It is quite amusing, in the same way that watching a muppet seize is amusing, although I'm glad that she's having fun.
And finally I say konnichiha to you, fifty minutes after my penultimate post (don't worry, I shan't start that again) to let you know that we have arrived safely at our destination (or, at least, we are very close to it...) We just drove past one of the places I used to go to primary school (there are many of those, though, which is another blog post entirely.) This particular school, Gum Flat Primary, had space in its hallowed halls for only 34 students, and thus needed only two teachers – an infants teacher and a primary teacher. Good times, good times...
The moral of this story is that if I ever have to listen to another John Denver song again (as I did at the start of the journey – for TWO FULL CDS OF THE MAN) I may specifically invent time-travel simply so that I can ensure that he dies by my hand, rather than in that stupid plane crash...Maybe I already have, and I was the pilot? We may never know. Anyway guys, Merry Merry as I said before, and I'll be back at some stage next week (maybe ever tomorrow) with the story of Christmas Day with my extended family...
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