To automatically and instinctively to be irritable, hostile, nervous, annoyed and angry whenever I play Starcraft (1 and 2), Diablo 2 and Warcraft 3 thanks to a few years of bad experiences with it. I find that interesting. I cannot get any better at the games now because of this. Every time I think of or play the games, I become downright nasty, start complainging and making excuses for everything. I do not act this way playing any other game...ever. Well Sonic Unleashed is an exception...but that game is built to piss me off. Big shout out to the one who ruined Blizzard games for me. I'm not blaming you, just blaming myself for continuing to play under such conditions. I hope the next person you screw with has the balls to stand up to you.
<3
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Curse of Distract----
Literary String Cheese: A Critical Drivel Theory
I was in the shower when I began to craft the beginnings of a plan to rid myself of boredom this summer. Someone must have been learning how the household faucets operate, because I was quickly learning about the differences between freezing hot and scorching cold. Pro tip for the kiddies, rig all household appliances involving water with flamethrowers and liquid nitrogen for best showering experience. That way the possible perpetrators get the best of both worlds, and you get to have a little consistency.
Episode 1: The Curse of Distract---
I have an idea to write about writing. I love reading and discussing the writing experience with other writers, no matter what skill or style they possess (yes, I LOVE it professor). I say that I love the subject because writing is as much about the process as it is about the finished product. My idea for the summer is to write, as often as I can, about being a writer (albeit a poor one) and share my endeavours, past and present, to become a better one. Then I thought, what better way to start than to talk about my greatest writing nemesis: Distraction.
Distraction is defined as household chores, interruptions by friends and family, the sudden desire to watch a few episodes of my favourite show (internet, television, DVD nerd set, etc.), instant messages from the 3+ clients that I run at any given time, the ever-present video game addictions and the realization that I have forgotten to do something important.
As I return from frantically navigating to my e-mail inbox to reply to an “urgent editing crisis,” I am reminded of why I never get anything significant done...unless my marks or paycheck depends on it. Writing has been a lifelong passion, but partially because I've been able to work on it and through it whenever I feel moved to do so. Unlike daily chores and work, I can sit down, isolated from the world and write until I feel like engaging with another activity. Or until my brother knocks at my door to tell me he flushed the toilet twice on me while I was in the shower, but that's besides the point since he wants help watering the plants outside in order to “minimize his time with the mosquitoes.”
By the time I return to my work, I have the desire to continue, but find that I'm at a loss as to how. I had an idea, a train of thought, a sense of connection and flow, and now I have...vague principle to go on and a handful of words I want to “fix.” Then comes the inevitable. The Scrolling. Good Lord love a duck the Scrolling. The ultimate effect of Distraction. I sit, staring at the screen, using the convenient little wheel in the centre of the mouse to move up and down and down and up the document, over and over until I have the words, any words, to continue. This can go on for hours (or days if I leave the document open in the background).
Now, don't think that this is exclusive to computers. Flipping is Scrolling's distant estranged cousin living in Notebook (and often vacations in Loose Leaf). Now personally I prefer Notebook over Loose Leaf (therefore, Flipping does as well). It's a more organized, sequential place (at least in principle). I mean, the infrastructure is there, but its contents can end up in amuck (obligatory bracketed area since the last three sentences had them). Words and Doodles everywhere, with no direction, order or instruction. Loose Leaf lacks that fine infrastructure, but its contents can be brought together at the last moment to see the larger picture. However, either place is prone to Flipping, as the pages turn without seeing or changing what lies within.
Though, that all makes me wonder if Distraction itself is an art or a form of thinking. With Scrolling, Flipping and the extra I spend time I'm fighting those boss battles, or washing the dishes, or riding the bus, or making cookies, or fighting boss battles with cookies on the bus then covering my tracks by washing the dishes, I am concocting new scenarios. If I don't confuse myself before the end.
Since...
Distraction makes me forget if I had a point to make. Whether I have made it. Whether there was a point to be made in the first place. Whether there needs to be one. Whether abstract thinking and awkward analogies are going to make my mind implode.
Because exploding would be messy and disgusting. No one wants to see that. Well, except you back there in the corner with the curly hair and cheap sunglasses. Yes, you.
Weirdo.
Then again, I'm the one who opens a topic by talking about my showering experience and ends it with asking why people started putting mustard in my KD. Honestly, if I have KD without mustard now, it tastes strange to me.
So yeah, who's been putting mustard in my KD? Enquiring minds would like to know.
I was in the shower when I began to craft the beginnings of a plan to rid myself of boredom this summer. Someone must have been learning how the household faucets operate, because I was quickly learning about the differences between freezing hot and scorching cold. Pro tip for the kiddies, rig all household appliances involving water with flamethrowers and liquid nitrogen for best showering experience. That way the possible perpetrators get the best of both worlds, and you get to have a little consistency.
Episode 1: The Curse of Distract---
I have an idea to write about writing. I love reading and discussing the writing experience with other writers, no matter what skill or style they possess (yes, I LOVE it professor). I say that I love the subject because writing is as much about the process as it is about the finished product. My idea for the summer is to write, as often as I can, about being a writer (albeit a poor one) and share my endeavours, past and present, to become a better one. Then I thought, what better way to start than to talk about my greatest writing nemesis: Distraction.
Distraction is defined as household chores, interruptions by friends and family, the sudden desire to watch a few episodes of my favourite show (internet, television, DVD nerd set, etc.), instant messages from the 3+ clients that I run at any given time, the ever-present video game addictions and the realization that I have forgotten to do something important.
As I return from frantically navigating to my e-mail inbox to reply to an “urgent editing crisis,” I am reminded of why I never get anything significant done...unless my marks or paycheck depends on it. Writing has been a lifelong passion, but partially because I've been able to work on it and through it whenever I feel moved to do so. Unlike daily chores and work, I can sit down, isolated from the world and write until I feel like engaging with another activity. Or until my brother knocks at my door to tell me he flushed the toilet twice on me while I was in the shower, but that's besides the point since he wants help watering the plants outside in order to “minimize his time with the mosquitoes.”
By the time I return to my work, I have the desire to continue, but find that I'm at a loss as to how. I had an idea, a train of thought, a sense of connection and flow, and now I have...vague principle to go on and a handful of words I want to “fix.” Then comes the inevitable. The Scrolling. Good Lord love a duck the Scrolling. The ultimate effect of Distraction. I sit, staring at the screen, using the convenient little wheel in the centre of the mouse to move up and down and down and up the document, over and over until I have the words, any words, to continue. This can go on for hours (or days if I leave the document open in the background).
Now, don't think that this is exclusive to computers. Flipping is Scrolling's distant estranged cousin living in Notebook (and often vacations in Loose Leaf). Now personally I prefer Notebook over Loose Leaf (therefore, Flipping does as well). It's a more organized, sequential place (at least in principle). I mean, the infrastructure is there, but its contents can end up in amuck (obligatory bracketed area since the last three sentences had them). Words and Doodles everywhere, with no direction, order or instruction. Loose Leaf lacks that fine infrastructure, but its contents can be brought together at the last moment to see the larger picture. However, either place is prone to Flipping, as the pages turn without seeing or changing what lies within.
Though, that all makes me wonder if Distraction itself is an art or a form of thinking. With Scrolling, Flipping and the extra I spend time I'm fighting those boss battles, or washing the dishes, or riding the bus, or making cookies, or fighting boss battles with cookies on the bus then covering my tracks by washing the dishes, I am concocting new scenarios. If I don't confuse myself before the end.
Since...
Distraction makes me forget if I had a point to make. Whether I have made it. Whether there was a point to be made in the first place. Whether there needs to be one. Whether abstract thinking and awkward analogies are going to make my mind implode.
Because exploding would be messy and disgusting. No one wants to see that. Well, except you back there in the corner with the curly hair and cheap sunglasses. Yes, you.
Weirdo.
Then again, I'm the one who opens a topic by talking about my showering experience and ends it with asking why people started putting mustard in my KD. Honestly, if I have KD without mustard now, it tastes strange to me.
So yeah, who's been putting mustard in my KD? Enquiring minds would like to know.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My Aura Has Never Been Pinker!
Initial Thoughts on Dungeon Siege 3
It's...different.
I was expecting an upgrade from the first two games, like what they did in the second game with upgraded party and inventory systems, the addition of powers/abilities and pets, more races to choose from, better graphics and smoother interface, and an equally cheesy story. Looking at this game, all that I can say that it shares with the previous two is the title and some of the names used in the game. The rest is completely different and I'm not sure what to think about it.
The first two games were developed by Microsoft Studios, which was amusing in and of itself, but they have produced decent games including the Age of Empires series (AOE2 being one of my all time favourite games). I was surprised to hear that the third instalment was being handled by Square Enix, which immediately struck me as...well ridiculous. Where the hell did they come from and what did they do to my Dungeon Siege? Why Microsoft? Why?
After some quick research on Wikipedia, I found out that Square Enix recently acquired the rights to the whole franchise, turning production of the game over to Obsidian Entertainment rather than Gas Powered Games. This is a blow to my fragile heart, for while the games were never the peak of electronic prowess, they were a cheesy indulgence that kept me company through my awkward teenage years (and boy were they). I was expecting an upgrade with a little bling on the side. Instead I got an overhaul, complete with invasive surgery and a pair of scissors left in the bowels of smooth gameplay.
So, what do I think of the game? Well, where on earth do I start? I suppose at the beginning would be logical...but I'm not logical so I'll start with what I think is good so far. The game takes place in the Kingdom of Ehb. Point goes to DSIII for getting the setting right (ish). The graphics are pretty tripped out and look quite good, even on the lowest settings (which is all poor Gary can handle, especially when I'm using an external fan to keep him cool while I play). Sound is all right, with some decent tracks so far. I haven't heard any of the classic Dungeon Siege music, but I'm holding out for that. Voice acting is...well I'll get to that when I talk about characterization. Atmosphere is fitting, though I have to admit, the visuals have been mostly dark and blue...and on fire.
Interface and gameplay. Good lord love a duck I want to murder someone in their sleep and use their body for a flail. Upon launching the game, I could tell that there would be problems. My laptop meets all the requirements despite being four years old, but once I got to the title screen, the cursor lagged so much moving that I immediately went to the options menu and began hacking away at the graphics and playing with the settings to see if I could fix it. After a restart of my computer, it was no better. After that I threw up my arms in defeat and decided to just play the game to see if I could get through it without much mouse movement.
The actual gameplay drove me up the wall and left me clinging to the roof by my nails. The camera is controlled two ways, one with the A and D keys, and two with the mouse at the edge of the screen. The character is moved by HOLDING DOWN the right mouse button or using W and S. The problem is that the camera and the character are moved independently, so you need to turn the camera to move left or right (the mouse option lets the character turn independently, but then you can't see where the hell you're going). This is a problem for me. Half the time I was playing, I had no idea where I was going because I couldn't SEE what I wanted to. I'd get stuck on random bits of rock (or in some cases random bits of nothing), so if I was attacked, I'd be fighting with the terrain and the camera to move. I'll get to combat later since I haven't talked about characters yet. Regardless, it's atrocious. You can tell it's made for a console. I have nothing against making games for wider medium and more audiences, but if it means that the game does not translate well into its different forms, then I get angry. This makes me fear for Skyrim.
Starting a new game, I got the opportunity to choose between 4 pre-made characters. Yes, 4, no more, no less. No customization available. In previous games, not many races or styles were offered, but at least the player could choose their character, name them and then make the classes any way they desired. This game, the characters all have names and backstories and set skills and fighting styles. This is interesting in its own way, because effort has been made to make them interesting enough, but I missed the personal aspect of it.
I had the choice between a generic knight-type with a sword and shield (Lucas), a hairy looking fellow who used some sort of magic and had a trippy moving gear belt (Reinhart), a elemental chick who was ON FIRE (Anjali), and this promiscuous looking lady with dual wild pistols and a rifle wearing stiletto heels (Katarina). I was tempted by the one perpetually burning, but in the end I went with Cleavage McShooty Heels, who turned out to be some sort of bastard child with a Russian accent. I don't even want to know why she has a Russian accent.
The game takes place in a strange French Revolution-esque environment where the Royal Family of Ehb and this angry staff witch woman are at war. The main characters (slightly different stories depending on whom the player chooses) are members of a dying order that was supposed to protect the Old King, who died, so obviously the order failed and everyone is pissed off. Therefore, from what I can tell, both sides hate the characters and want to see them dead. Yey. I'm only 100 minutes into the game (which should tell you a lot when I've written this much already on it), but the story is fairly straight-forward so far. I just don't understand why there are under-dressed gunslingers with Russian accents running around in an English environment with French themes. I'll blame Square Enix for that one. And maybe someone ripping off Fable 3.
Combat was a mess. I am playing on the “hardcore level,” which is apparently not for people who like to “throw their controllers at the screen.” Can't tell this game was made for consoles at all can you? For those first 90 minutes I had very little difficulty fighting after I finally figured out how to use and change weapons. My character, incidentally, is squishy and will die quickly when close to enemies. So I had to manage dodging, healing and fighting, which is all fine and dandy if you can control that little tool I like to call the camera. I find when the player is constantly rolling into walls and tiny areas between rocks where the character can't move, that's when grandma's jelly salad begins to hit the fan, spraying chunky bits everywhere.
Before stopping the game to write this review, I got extremely frustrated with an early battle between the character and a bunch of witches. I survived about 10 seconds of the battle at most. After the dialogue, which is extremely clunky with random accents being tossed around, the witches begin blasting the player while about 6 cohorts fly out and begin slicing. I try dodging, rolling, shooting, healing, flailing and praying every which way until I get stuck in some corner and die horribly. Emphasis on HORRIBLY. Then I'm sent back to the save point where I have to fight the same three assholes every time even if I save after I do so.
The actual shooty part of the combat is entertaining and enjoyable, though why no melee exists is beyond me. I can block with the shotgun or rifle, but I can't attack with it. The dual wield is intended for close combat, but it's still SHOOTING. I find out only AFTER I start spamming buttons that I have spells to use. I don't even know what they do. The help menu won't tell me anything useful about it. So far, all I know, is that I can fire off a shot in the form of a wispy purple aura (I still have no idea what it does). Maybe I had something funky for lunch. Who knows? As for the actual shots, the rifle does more damage than the duel wield, even at close range (which is probably because my current pistol/shotgun combo sucks). The abilities, which enhances attacks or helps to heal, are interesting enough, but I haven't seen enough of them. They're pretty straight-forward and cliched. The one healing ability gives me this odd glow every time I use it. At least I can say, “my aura has never been pinker!”
All in all, I'm going to continue the game and try my best to finish it all on hard. Nostalgia for the last two games will keep me dedicated to finishing it, but I don't know if it'll have replay value. Do I recommend it? Well...not for the PC at least. Since Square Enix obviously doesn't care about the PC gamer crowd, the console gamers are going to have a better time of it. It's probably a lot better on the 360 or PS3, so I'd try it out there. I'll post another entry when I've finished it to see if it was worth my $50, but for now, I'd say the game is only passable at best.
In truth, all I was really looking for was a cheesy, summer, boredom killer, but I'm sad that it isn't as accessible to the PC crowd. The game has its fun parts (especially the rag dolls cartwheeling randomly through the air in perfect starfish form) and as long as I don't rage quit too often, I should be fine. That said, I've been exceptionally irate in the past months, so that might be a difficult task to carry out. I morn the loss of style and play-ability, but hopefully, this game will surprise me.
It's...different.
I was expecting an upgrade from the first two games, like what they did in the second game with upgraded party and inventory systems, the addition of powers/abilities and pets, more races to choose from, better graphics and smoother interface, and an equally cheesy story. Looking at this game, all that I can say that it shares with the previous two is the title and some of the names used in the game. The rest is completely different and I'm not sure what to think about it.
The first two games were developed by Microsoft Studios, which was amusing in and of itself, but they have produced decent games including the Age of Empires series (AOE2 being one of my all time favourite games). I was surprised to hear that the third instalment was being handled by Square Enix, which immediately struck me as...well ridiculous. Where the hell did they come from and what did they do to my Dungeon Siege? Why Microsoft? Why?
After some quick research on Wikipedia, I found out that Square Enix recently acquired the rights to the whole franchise, turning production of the game over to Obsidian Entertainment rather than Gas Powered Games. This is a blow to my fragile heart, for while the games were never the peak of electronic prowess, they were a cheesy indulgence that kept me company through my awkward teenage years (and boy were they). I was expecting an upgrade with a little bling on the side. Instead I got an overhaul, complete with invasive surgery and a pair of scissors left in the bowels of smooth gameplay.
So, what do I think of the game? Well, where on earth do I start? I suppose at the beginning would be logical...but I'm not logical so I'll start with what I think is good so far. The game takes place in the Kingdom of Ehb. Point goes to DSIII for getting the setting right (ish). The graphics are pretty tripped out and look quite good, even on the lowest settings (which is all poor Gary can handle, especially when I'm using an external fan to keep him cool while I play). Sound is all right, with some decent tracks so far. I haven't heard any of the classic Dungeon Siege music, but I'm holding out for that. Voice acting is...well I'll get to that when I talk about characterization. Atmosphere is fitting, though I have to admit, the visuals have been mostly dark and blue...and on fire.
Interface and gameplay. Good lord love a duck I want to murder someone in their sleep and use their body for a flail. Upon launching the game, I could tell that there would be problems. My laptop meets all the requirements despite being four years old, but once I got to the title screen, the cursor lagged so much moving that I immediately went to the options menu and began hacking away at the graphics and playing with the settings to see if I could fix it. After a restart of my computer, it was no better. After that I threw up my arms in defeat and decided to just play the game to see if I could get through it without much mouse movement.
The actual gameplay drove me up the wall and left me clinging to the roof by my nails. The camera is controlled two ways, one with the A and D keys, and two with the mouse at the edge of the screen. The character is moved by HOLDING DOWN the right mouse button or using W and S. The problem is that the camera and the character are moved independently, so you need to turn the camera to move left or right (the mouse option lets the character turn independently, but then you can't see where the hell you're going). This is a problem for me. Half the time I was playing, I had no idea where I was going because I couldn't SEE what I wanted to. I'd get stuck on random bits of rock (or in some cases random bits of nothing), so if I was attacked, I'd be fighting with the terrain and the camera to move. I'll get to combat later since I haven't talked about characters yet. Regardless, it's atrocious. You can tell it's made for a console. I have nothing against making games for wider medium and more audiences, but if it means that the game does not translate well into its different forms, then I get angry. This makes me fear for Skyrim.
Starting a new game, I got the opportunity to choose between 4 pre-made characters. Yes, 4, no more, no less. No customization available. In previous games, not many races or styles were offered, but at least the player could choose their character, name them and then make the classes any way they desired. This game, the characters all have names and backstories and set skills and fighting styles. This is interesting in its own way, because effort has been made to make them interesting enough, but I missed the personal aspect of it.
I had the choice between a generic knight-type with a sword and shield (Lucas), a hairy looking fellow who used some sort of magic and had a trippy moving gear belt (Reinhart), a elemental chick who was ON FIRE (Anjali), and this promiscuous looking lady with dual wild pistols and a rifle wearing stiletto heels (Katarina). I was tempted by the one perpetually burning, but in the end I went with Cleavage McShooty Heels, who turned out to be some sort of bastard child with a Russian accent. I don't even want to know why she has a Russian accent.
The game takes place in a strange French Revolution-esque environment where the Royal Family of Ehb and this angry staff witch woman are at war. The main characters (slightly different stories depending on whom the player chooses) are members of a dying order that was supposed to protect the Old King, who died, so obviously the order failed and everyone is pissed off. Therefore, from what I can tell, both sides hate the characters and want to see them dead. Yey. I'm only 100 minutes into the game (which should tell you a lot when I've written this much already on it), but the story is fairly straight-forward so far. I just don't understand why there are under-dressed gunslingers with Russian accents running around in an English environment with French themes. I'll blame Square Enix for that one. And maybe someone ripping off Fable 3.
Combat was a mess. I am playing on the “hardcore level,” which is apparently not for people who like to “throw their controllers at the screen.” Can't tell this game was made for consoles at all can you? For those first 90 minutes I had very little difficulty fighting after I finally figured out how to use and change weapons. My character, incidentally, is squishy and will die quickly when close to enemies. So I had to manage dodging, healing and fighting, which is all fine and dandy if you can control that little tool I like to call the camera. I find when the player is constantly rolling into walls and tiny areas between rocks where the character can't move, that's when grandma's jelly salad begins to hit the fan, spraying chunky bits everywhere.
Before stopping the game to write this review, I got extremely frustrated with an early battle between the character and a bunch of witches. I survived about 10 seconds of the battle at most. After the dialogue, which is extremely clunky with random accents being tossed around, the witches begin blasting the player while about 6 cohorts fly out and begin slicing. I try dodging, rolling, shooting, healing, flailing and praying every which way until I get stuck in some corner and die horribly. Emphasis on HORRIBLY. Then I'm sent back to the save point where I have to fight the same three assholes every time even if I save after I do so.
The actual shooty part of the combat is entertaining and enjoyable, though why no melee exists is beyond me. I can block with the shotgun or rifle, but I can't attack with it. The dual wield is intended for close combat, but it's still SHOOTING. I find out only AFTER I start spamming buttons that I have spells to use. I don't even know what they do. The help menu won't tell me anything useful about it. So far, all I know, is that I can fire off a shot in the form of a wispy purple aura (I still have no idea what it does). Maybe I had something funky for lunch. Who knows? As for the actual shots, the rifle does more damage than the duel wield, even at close range (which is probably because my current pistol/shotgun combo sucks). The abilities, which enhances attacks or helps to heal, are interesting enough, but I haven't seen enough of them. They're pretty straight-forward and cliched. The one healing ability gives me this odd glow every time I use it. At least I can say, “my aura has never been pinker!”
All in all, I'm going to continue the game and try my best to finish it all on hard. Nostalgia for the last two games will keep me dedicated to finishing it, but I don't know if it'll have replay value. Do I recommend it? Well...not for the PC at least. Since Square Enix obviously doesn't care about the PC gamer crowd, the console gamers are going to have a better time of it. It's probably a lot better on the 360 or PS3, so I'd try it out there. I'll post another entry when I've finished it to see if it was worth my $50, but for now, I'd say the game is only passable at best.
In truth, all I was really looking for was a cheesy, summer, boredom killer, but I'm sad that it isn't as accessible to the PC crowd. The game has its fun parts (especially the rag dolls cartwheeling randomly through the air in perfect starfish form) and as long as I don't rage quit too often, I should be fine. That said, I've been exceptionally irate in the past months, so that might be a difficult task to carry out. I morn the loss of style and play-ability, but hopefully, this game will surprise me.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
BATMAN PUNCH
All work and no Oblivion makes Schwa write essays about how Batman randomly punches people, how Captain America smashes through walls and lights people on fire in North Korea and Sonic has a crying disability.
Also gives me a chance to read about how Superman is a dick, how awkward and Creepy Batman is and how Captain America is a "Commie Smasher".
I'm just sitting here wondering why my peach is blackish brown and crispy. Like an apple. Like a blackish brown apple. Maybe I just picked up a really bruised apple. Then again it was fuzzy...a moulding apple? That would explain why it's blackish brown.
You can tell I have a paper to write, a paper to edit, three stories to read through, fifteen critiques, a medium sized paper, a reading response, two responses to READINGS, a thesis to edit, a portfolio to assemble and a really big paper to do. Why else would I be looking for ways to slack off? It's the only time I can find an excuse to waste time.
My tags sounded like a messed up poem when I typed them out, but blogger will rearrange them when I post. Sadface.
Also gives me a chance to read about how Superman is a dick, how awkward and Creepy Batman is and how Captain America is a "Commie Smasher".
I'm just sitting here wondering why my peach is blackish brown and crispy. Like an apple. Like a blackish brown apple. Maybe I just picked up a really bruised apple. Then again it was fuzzy...a moulding apple? That would explain why it's blackish brown.
You can tell I have a paper to write, a paper to edit, three stories to read through, fifteen critiques, a medium sized paper, a reading response, two responses to READINGS, a thesis to edit, a portfolio to assemble and a really big paper to do. Why else would I be looking for ways to slack off? It's the only time I can find an excuse to waste time.
My tags sounded like a messed up poem when I typed them out, but blogger will rearrange them when I post. Sadface.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
MAI INTERNETS ASPLODED
Editing.
So I was editing someone's paper and I got super tired. Internet was slow, dictionary took about 5 minutes to provide me with useful philosophy definitions, so I quit. Next day I finish, mid-day, about 2 hours later than I said I would. I apologize and send the edit saying that my internet was giving me issues (a semi-true statement...but then again I could have picked up my dictionary FIVE STEPS away from me on my bookshelf...meh). Right after I send another e-mail to a client that I (still) need payment from. I had sent him two e-mails the week before with no reply. I finally got a reply about an hour later.
"Sorry, my internet was down all weekend. My payment is going to be a little late."
I'm going to chalk it up to karma.
Also:
I have decided, after using it, that the random made-up word "Asplode" sounds a little bit disgusting. Sounds like an explosive case of diarrhea. I'll add it to my dictionary along with "satisfication" and "chestknuckle".
So I was editing someone's paper and I got super tired. Internet was slow, dictionary took about 5 minutes to provide me with useful philosophy definitions, so I quit. Next day I finish, mid-day, about 2 hours later than I said I would. I apologize and send the edit saying that my internet was giving me issues (a semi-true statement...but then again I could have picked up my dictionary FIVE STEPS away from me on my bookshelf...meh). Right after I send another e-mail to a client that I (still) need payment from. I had sent him two e-mails the week before with no reply. I finally got a reply about an hour later.
"Sorry, my internet was down all weekend. My payment is going to be a little late."
I'm going to chalk it up to karma.
Also:
I have decided, after using it, that the random made-up word "Asplode" sounds a little bit disgusting. Sounds like an explosive case of diarrhea. I'll add it to my dictionary along with "satisfication" and "chestknuckle".
Monday, March 14, 2011
Blub
I need to pick a rock/metal concert to go see for my yearly personal outing. I don't go to many of these concerts, but I love them when I go. I love them because I'm so out of my depth it's hilarious. I am not the concert going type, but every time I go, I have a ton of fun and have a ton of stories to recount.
I don't go to clubs, I go to pubs. I don't go to house parties, I go to game and movie nights. I don't go to metal/rock concerts, I go to plays and Star Trek music collaborations with the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra. Is this just my introverted nature or am I just a hapless fish out of water?
I've been using the word "hapless" a lot lately.
About a year ago I posted my adventure at the last metal concert I went to, complete with cotton candy hair, random water spraying and having to stop by a shady underground gay bar to ask for directions. I lost fifty dollars that night out of my pocket that night. I picture myself, this awkward young girl running around in the snow wearing black pants and a purple button-up shirt looking for a wad of money that I knew I wasn't going to find. Close to tears and devastated that I had lost money I spent a month walking dogs to earn I had to return to the concert and face the doorman, his raised eyebrows and scornful glares.
I spent the concert standing in one of the raised deck areas away from the crowd of people on the floor. The opening band amused me a great deal with their showmanship, but I was happy to be out of harm's way. I don't do well in crowds. By this I mean I have a tendency to get knocked around, scratched, pushed, stepped on, pushed then stepped on and yelled at. I need about fifty more pounds on me for this to be fun. I also avoided getting the random bursts of water from the lead's mouth. Mr. Bald Man standing beside me with his daughter found this hilarious...and no doubt stupid. Though that makes me wonder...who goes to a metal concert with their daughter? A daughter that's over 18 because it was adults only. Meh.
I have been focusing on identities and perceptions lately in a lot of my writings, and I often wonder what other people see in me that I can't. I'd like to think I know myself quite well, that I can hide my emotions and thoughts at will and have a certain demeanour and way of carrying myself. In the last while, I've learned how very wrong I am. I'd like to think myself experienced, that I've tried a lot and seen the world, but there's so many instances where that idea gets beaten down quicker than you can say "you live under a rock honey".
I remember my first clubbing experience. I wish I had a recording of myself that night. First time clubbing. First time legitimately drunk. First time dancing like a fool because I was drunk. Let me just tell you that I'm not what you call the clubbing, drinking and dancing type...at least everyone else had a good laugh at my expense.
The occasion was my good friend's 18th birthday. I wasn't too keen on going, but I was willing to take one for the team so to speak. She said to use a sort of code word to let the people inside know we were part of a group. My problem was I tried to tell the bouncer this code word. I am happy to admit that he was thoroughly confused as to why I kept saying "dreamboat" to him. Thankfully my friend saved me further embarrassment by ushering me inside.
I've yet to find a place I hated more. A building full of drunk, petty, loud, obnoxious people dancing, scrutinizing and dressed like cracked out barbie dolls. Okay I exaggerate, but there's my perception popping in. I followed a few of my friends to the back where there were pool tables and creepy older men that would just stare. Then they'd move to a closer table and stare. Then they'd get another drink and stare in the "unstarable" places. We decided to go to the bar and get some drinks.
I got drunk on a rum and coke, a beer (Heineken I think) and a tequila shot. It was the tequila that did me in. I now hate all three drinks. I'm more of a Rickard's and Keith's beer (Canadian if these aren't available), Caesar, Vodka, Gin and Tonic kind of person. I didn't know that at the time of course. All I remember is being extremely dizzy, flailing around on the dance floor and driving in a car with too many people in it. I think we had four people in the back and three in the front...still not as bad as the time we fit 13 people in a station wagon in high school, but that's another story (though I remember I was in the "trunk" and it was VERY UNCOMFORTABLE).
Tequila has haunted me ever since...as well as the dreamboat.
I got a little better at composing myself at clubs and bars. I still don't frequent them. I think the last time I was at a club was May 2009. After attending a hockey game with my cousin from Chicago, he wanted to see 17th Ave and the bars down there. I had never been to the bars on 17th, so I just improvised. We walked down there and found Bob the Fish on the corner of 17th and 3rd. I was already pretty drunk on two beers (I'm a lightweight okay? besides, it was SADDLEDOME beer...you know that shit's not what it seems). Got another beer at Bob the Fish and tried to keep my cousin away from my phone since he kept trying to take it to text a friend of my multiple times to get her to come out.
We got tired of that place soon since it was overcrowded, so we walked down the street a bit more. I think my cousin was worried about me after three beers. I'm a giddy drunk, and I never think I'm drunk when I actually am. We stopped in a couple places to take a look, completely passed over an extremely colourful place that looked like a disco, and finally stopped at a club I can't remember the name of.
My cousin asked if we were dressed well enough to go in. Both of us were wearing jeans and Flames jerseys. He skips over our clothes and looks at our shoes. I was wearing brown skater shoes. He was wearing black dress shoes. He looks at me, tells me my shoes are iffy, but that my cousin's were good enough for both of us.
Are shoes normally a deciding factor for club entrance?
Meh. Inside we head for the bar. We weren't the only ones wearing jerseys thankfully, but we were certainly under-dressed. Most of the people there were out in dresses and suits. At the bar my cousin insisted I get some water while he got his drink on. It was at the bar where we met Ultimate Frisbee Guy. No idea what his real name was...I don't remember. My cousin struck up a conversation with this guy talking about basketball and such. He introduced me, and from that point on he kept trying to get me to agree to come and watch him play Ultimate Frisbee at the Calgary Sport and Social Club.
Then he kept buying us drinks. I did about two of the shots before I started pouring them out behind his back into an empty glass. My cousin saw and started laughing, because he started doing the same shortly after. They were pretty nasty shots. My cousin then bought us a couple round of shots worth about 20 dollars for fun and to pay the guy back. He took them, but insisted on paying 40 dollars for them. My cousin just shrugged and took the money.
We are wonderful people.
He got constantly creepier as the night went on. My cousin said if he was bothering me that he'd take care of him, but that he didn't think he could take on him and his friends combined. We stayed there until about 2:15 in the morning when the bar started to close.
Yes, the bars close at 2 in Calgary. Yes, our night life sucks.
We left the bar and decided to get pitas. Apparently we weren't the only ones in the mood for pitas, because there were about 20 people lined up for them. We got our pitas while my cousin kept asking the guy in front of us what he thought about some basketball teams. Pitas in hand we went in search of a taxi. His idea of getting a taxi was standing in the middle of a road waving his arms. Apparently that's how you do it in Chicago. We finally got a taxi after I convinced him to get off the road, and knowing little about taxis, I got in the front seat. Thankfully the driver probably just passed it off as drunkenness.
I can imagine how I looked these nights, how naive I probably seemed to all the people around me, and yet that's part of what makes the experience fun for me. When I'm completely out of my element, and end up having adventures. Hundreds of people have crazier stories than I do, but this is what passes for excitement in my life.
Is this why people think I'm so innocent all the time?
I don't go to clubs, I go to pubs. I don't go to house parties, I go to game and movie nights. I don't go to metal/rock concerts, I go to plays and Star Trek music collaborations with the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra. Is this just my introverted nature or am I just a hapless fish out of water?
I've been using the word "hapless" a lot lately.
About a year ago I posted my adventure at the last metal concert I went to, complete with cotton candy hair, random water spraying and having to stop by a shady underground gay bar to ask for directions. I lost fifty dollars that night out of my pocket that night. I picture myself, this awkward young girl running around in the snow wearing black pants and a purple button-up shirt looking for a wad of money that I knew I wasn't going to find. Close to tears and devastated that I had lost money I spent a month walking dogs to earn I had to return to the concert and face the doorman, his raised eyebrows and scornful glares.
I spent the concert standing in one of the raised deck areas away from the crowd of people on the floor. The opening band amused me a great deal with their showmanship, but I was happy to be out of harm's way. I don't do well in crowds. By this I mean I have a tendency to get knocked around, scratched, pushed, stepped on, pushed then stepped on and yelled at. I need about fifty more pounds on me for this to be fun. I also avoided getting the random bursts of water from the lead's mouth. Mr. Bald Man standing beside me with his daughter found this hilarious...and no doubt stupid. Though that makes me wonder...who goes to a metal concert with their daughter? A daughter that's over 18 because it was adults only. Meh.
I have been focusing on identities and perceptions lately in a lot of my writings, and I often wonder what other people see in me that I can't. I'd like to think I know myself quite well, that I can hide my emotions and thoughts at will and have a certain demeanour and way of carrying myself. In the last while, I've learned how very wrong I am. I'd like to think myself experienced, that I've tried a lot and seen the world, but there's so many instances where that idea gets beaten down quicker than you can say "you live under a rock honey".
I remember my first clubbing experience. I wish I had a recording of myself that night. First time clubbing. First time legitimately drunk. First time dancing like a fool because I was drunk. Let me just tell you that I'm not what you call the clubbing, drinking and dancing type...at least everyone else had a good laugh at my expense.
The occasion was my good friend's 18th birthday. I wasn't too keen on going, but I was willing to take one for the team so to speak. She said to use a sort of code word to let the people inside know we were part of a group. My problem was I tried to tell the bouncer this code word. I am happy to admit that he was thoroughly confused as to why I kept saying "dreamboat" to him. Thankfully my friend saved me further embarrassment by ushering me inside.
I've yet to find a place I hated more. A building full of drunk, petty, loud, obnoxious people dancing, scrutinizing and dressed like cracked out barbie dolls. Okay I exaggerate, but there's my perception popping in. I followed a few of my friends to the back where there were pool tables and creepy older men that would just stare. Then they'd move to a closer table and stare. Then they'd get another drink and stare in the "unstarable" places. We decided to go to the bar and get some drinks.
I got drunk on a rum and coke, a beer (Heineken I think) and a tequila shot. It was the tequila that did me in. I now hate all three drinks. I'm more of a Rickard's and Keith's beer (Canadian if these aren't available), Caesar, Vodka, Gin and Tonic kind of person. I didn't know that at the time of course. All I remember is being extremely dizzy, flailing around on the dance floor and driving in a car with too many people in it. I think we had four people in the back and three in the front...still not as bad as the time we fit 13 people in a station wagon in high school, but that's another story (though I remember I was in the "trunk" and it was VERY UNCOMFORTABLE).
Tequila has haunted me ever since...as well as the dreamboat.
I got a little better at composing myself at clubs and bars. I still don't frequent them. I think the last time I was at a club was May 2009. After attending a hockey game with my cousin from Chicago, he wanted to see 17th Ave and the bars down there. I had never been to the bars on 17th, so I just improvised. We walked down there and found Bob the Fish on the corner of 17th and 3rd. I was already pretty drunk on two beers (I'm a lightweight okay? besides, it was SADDLEDOME beer...you know that shit's not what it seems). Got another beer at Bob the Fish and tried to keep my cousin away from my phone since he kept trying to take it to text a friend of my multiple times to get her to come out.
We got tired of that place soon since it was overcrowded, so we walked down the street a bit more. I think my cousin was worried about me after three beers. I'm a giddy drunk, and I never think I'm drunk when I actually am. We stopped in a couple places to take a look, completely passed over an extremely colourful place that looked like a disco, and finally stopped at a club I can't remember the name of.
My cousin asked if we were dressed well enough to go in. Both of us were wearing jeans and Flames jerseys. He skips over our clothes and looks at our shoes. I was wearing brown skater shoes. He was wearing black dress shoes. He looks at me, tells me my shoes are iffy, but that my cousin's were good enough for both of us.
Are shoes normally a deciding factor for club entrance?
Meh. Inside we head for the bar. We weren't the only ones wearing jerseys thankfully, but we were certainly under-dressed. Most of the people there were out in dresses and suits. At the bar my cousin insisted I get some water while he got his drink on. It was at the bar where we met Ultimate Frisbee Guy. No idea what his real name was...I don't remember. My cousin struck up a conversation with this guy talking about basketball and such. He introduced me, and from that point on he kept trying to get me to agree to come and watch him play Ultimate Frisbee at the Calgary Sport and Social Club.
Then he kept buying us drinks. I did about two of the shots before I started pouring them out behind his back into an empty glass. My cousin saw and started laughing, because he started doing the same shortly after. They were pretty nasty shots. My cousin then bought us a couple round of shots worth about 20 dollars for fun and to pay the guy back. He took them, but insisted on paying 40 dollars for them. My cousin just shrugged and took the money.
We are wonderful people.
He got constantly creepier as the night went on. My cousin said if he was bothering me that he'd take care of him, but that he didn't think he could take on him and his friends combined. We stayed there until about 2:15 in the morning when the bar started to close.
Yes, the bars close at 2 in Calgary. Yes, our night life sucks.
We left the bar and decided to get pitas. Apparently we weren't the only ones in the mood for pitas, because there were about 20 people lined up for them. We got our pitas while my cousin kept asking the guy in front of us what he thought about some basketball teams. Pitas in hand we went in search of a taxi. His idea of getting a taxi was standing in the middle of a road waving his arms. Apparently that's how you do it in Chicago. We finally got a taxi after I convinced him to get off the road, and knowing little about taxis, I got in the front seat. Thankfully the driver probably just passed it off as drunkenness.
I can imagine how I looked these nights, how naive I probably seemed to all the people around me, and yet that's part of what makes the experience fun for me. When I'm completely out of my element, and end up having adventures. Hundreds of people have crazier stories than I do, but this is what passes for excitement in my life.
Is this why people think I'm so innocent all the time?
Monday, February 28, 2011
W VS E
I'm convinced Westerners and Easterners write differently. I suppose it's the same with Northerners and Southerners, but living in Alberta, I'm caught up in the East and the West. This is a theme in my own work, and a huge topic in North American history (I'm not sure if it's more of an issue in Canada or if it's the same in the States).
At any rate, the people from West Canada certainly write differently than the people in East Canada. Westerners appear to be fans of short sentences and straight-forward facts. The Easterners love their long, flowing sentences with over-the-top metaphors. I'm convinced the thesaurus is their top tool, followed by a dictionary. I often wonder what causes the differences. Of course there are the exceptions. There are many exceptions, but I can't help but notice that novels written in, say, New York, are a lot more “elegant” than ones written in somewhere like Saskatoon. Does this have to do with the environment? The vernacular? The way Easterners and Westerners look at life? How we live our lives? Or is it just like saying a gigantic “screw you” to each side?
As for myself, I prefer to write simply. I find that my vocabulary and range of sentences are lacking in breadth and depth, but at the same time I try to write the moment. I'd rather have the reader engaged with the actions and characters rather than in awe of the elaborate vernacular and beautiful descriptions. Tell it as it is rather than confuse the hell out of everyone. Not that these wondrous sentences cannot be enjoyed and even admired. I am often jealous of these fantastic similes and personifications and descriptions and verbs, but sometimes they slow the story down to the point where I read entire paragraphs without absorbing any of the content. By the time I get to the end of the page, I couldn't tell you what happened, but I couldn't keep track of the numerous words that I was either impressed by, or had to consult a dictionary for.
I may be exaggerating a bit.
On the other hand, the simple, straight up approach can get painfully repetitive. I conducted an experiment in WMRR (my novel in progress) by bringing up the find feature in my word processor. I search for how many times I used the word “watch” and came up with 66 results within the first 100 pages. My largest offence was the last chapter where it turned up 10 times. This is mostly because I haven't edited it yet, but I shouldn't make excuses.
Some time when I don't have three research essays and a truck load of readings to do, I'd like to do a little reading and research of my own. I'm sure tons of work has been done on this topic. An inventory of styles would be interesting to make as well, just in my causal (or school) readings. My fiction writing professor stated that there was a certain Albertan vernacular that appears in writing that mimics the way we speak. Reading the lines, you can almost hear the words being spoken. I have to agree with this notion, encountering it many times myself.
Regardless, neither form appears to be inherently better, though many would argue for one side or the other. I like to look at it as a learning experience, where elements can be taken from both sides to make something entirely new. I've done more critical reading in these past two years than I have done in my entire life, and I think that shows in the progression of my reading and writing abilities. I see right through the mechanics now.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.
And this is where the internet has broken me folks. Schwa out.
Shwout?
At any rate, the people from West Canada certainly write differently than the people in East Canada. Westerners appear to be fans of short sentences and straight-forward facts. The Easterners love their long, flowing sentences with over-the-top metaphors. I'm convinced the thesaurus is their top tool, followed by a dictionary. I often wonder what causes the differences. Of course there are the exceptions. There are many exceptions, but I can't help but notice that novels written in, say, New York, are a lot more “elegant” than ones written in somewhere like Saskatoon. Does this have to do with the environment? The vernacular? The way Easterners and Westerners look at life? How we live our lives? Or is it just like saying a gigantic “screw you” to each side?
As for myself, I prefer to write simply. I find that my vocabulary and range of sentences are lacking in breadth and depth, but at the same time I try to write the moment. I'd rather have the reader engaged with the actions and characters rather than in awe of the elaborate vernacular and beautiful descriptions. Tell it as it is rather than confuse the hell out of everyone. Not that these wondrous sentences cannot be enjoyed and even admired. I am often jealous of these fantastic similes and personifications and descriptions and verbs, but sometimes they slow the story down to the point where I read entire paragraphs without absorbing any of the content. By the time I get to the end of the page, I couldn't tell you what happened, but I couldn't keep track of the numerous words that I was either impressed by, or had to consult a dictionary for.
I may be exaggerating a bit.
On the other hand, the simple, straight up approach can get painfully repetitive. I conducted an experiment in WMRR (my novel in progress) by bringing up the find feature in my word processor. I search for how many times I used the word “watch” and came up with 66 results within the first 100 pages. My largest offence was the last chapter where it turned up 10 times. This is mostly because I haven't edited it yet, but I shouldn't make excuses.
Some time when I don't have three research essays and a truck load of readings to do, I'd like to do a little reading and research of my own. I'm sure tons of work has been done on this topic. An inventory of styles would be interesting to make as well, just in my causal (or school) readings. My fiction writing professor stated that there was a certain Albertan vernacular that appears in writing that mimics the way we speak. Reading the lines, you can almost hear the words being spoken. I have to agree with this notion, encountering it many times myself.
Regardless, neither form appears to be inherently better, though many would argue for one side or the other. I like to look at it as a learning experience, where elements can be taken from both sides to make something entirely new. I've done more critical reading in these past two years than I have done in my entire life, and I think that shows in the progression of my reading and writing abilities. I see right through the mechanics now.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.
And this is where the internet has broken me folks. Schwa out.
Shwout?
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