En Fuego

I got a Kindle Fire as a holiday present.

At first, we sort of looked at each other:  me at its pretty box, it at my multiple, overflowing bookshelves.

We weren't sure that we'd get along.  It knew I really had the hots for an ipad.  I wasn't sure if I could settle for "less."

But then one day, I invited it out of its cage box, just to smell the air and meet the cats.

In return, it informed me that it would like to use the charging facilities, if I would be so kind.

Slowly we became friends.

I bought a couple of apps:  Angry Birds, The Moron Test, Where's My Water - you know, the essentials.  I downloaded the Netflix app.

We played and annoyed the cats together, then laughed at the cats being annoyed.

Then I ventured onto Amazon and found a book to try.  Cause if there's anything I need, it is another book to read.

Then I devoured that book like a kid with Halloween candy.

And that's when I knew.  It's the one.

ipad shmipad.  My fire is kindled.

New Moon on Monday

Today is Monday.  And it's New Moon.

Coincidentally, New Moon on Monday by Duran Duran is one of my favorite songs.  (I have at least 100 favorite songs.)

So, the phrase "New Moon on Monday" in my head is immediately followed by "and a firedance through the night."  Even if it's silent and only I know about it. 

Fortunately, this phrase is typically only heard either during a weather report or while I am listening to the aforementioned song, so I don't have to bite my tongue that often.

In other news, I have started watching The Big Bang theory.  Very funny.  It's in syndication, so I'm up to about episode 40.  There may be future posts as I get up to speed.

In gaming news, I finally opened my copy of Betrayal at House on the Hill this weekend.  I love that game.  And I got to play some Dirty Scrabble, which is basically normal scrabble with double points awarded if you can spell a dirty word.  Quite enjoyable.  Yes, I won, but I was having fun regardless.  And no, I really didn't have that many dirty words.  I think "thang" and "smut" were it.  I swear.  Why are you looking at me like you don't believe me?  No, even though I had the letters U, C and F, the K was already in play.  And I never got N and T at the same time.  Alright?  Sheesh.

Internet people are soooo judgmental.

Guilt for the win

Sigh.  Where to begin on this one.

We're all comfortable with my geekiness, yes?  And how I play video games?

So I'm in a leadership position in a certain Star Wars MMO guild. (I am vague because of you, spammy credit sellers who just google everything with the name and post comments.  Fist shake at you.)  And last night, I inadvertently upset someone in the guild.

Long story short, I really didn't mean to upset anyone.  It was one of those "trying to do my job and look out for everyone, but in doing so some people were upset by my actions" scenarios with no way to please everyone. 

This is the kind of stuff that torments me.  I did what I thought was right, now someone (or possibly several someones) are upset.  I hate knowing that.  I absolutely hate knowing that something I did upset someone.  I obsess over guilt (real or perceived) like a cat obsesses over catnip - except I imagine there is a lot less fun/happiness involved.  So I apologize to the internets in general 'cause I am sure in some way there was an option that would have been light side points for everyone. 

Have I mentioned I'm working on letting things go?  I had a bit of regression over the holidays.  Maybe I should just view this situation as helping me learn how to deal with these things. 

Fun stuff

All the fun stuff on my to-do list is starting to stress me out.

I love to read.  I have a stack of books that keeps growing - I swear those things multiply faster than dirty laundry does.  Included are A Song of Ice and Fire (aka Game of Thrones series), The Hunger Games, a couple Laurie R King books, and The Wise Man's Fear (sequel to The Name of the Wind).  And many more.

I have at least 10 video games on my "to play" list.  Portal 2.  Assassin's Creed.  Finishing Bioshock.  Bioshock 2.  Gears of War 1 & 2.  Arkham Asylum.  That's not going to happen for a while.  And I would like to try Skyrim at some point, which I understand will suck my soul away.

There are about 6 television shows that I keep meaning to start watching, but don't seem to have time for.  Battlestar Galactica.  The Last Avatar.  Torchwood.  A couple of anime series.  They can get in line.

Add to this the fact that I like spending time with my friends, sleeping, and oh yeah I have a job.  Plus a certain Star Wars MMO that just came out....   When did having fun get to be so stressful?

Presents

Are you one of those people who can’t stand seeing a wrapped present?  Who has the need, almost the compulsion, to unwrap something addressed to you?

I’m not. 

I enjoy the pleasant anticipation of the holidays, almost as much as the events themselves.  I love having something to look forward to, and I get so much satisfaction from giving gifts – much moreso than receiving them.  However, those that I do receive, I prefer to open on the day.  It’s part of the magic of the holiday.

However, my mother can’t handle not knowing what a present is.  And she assumes everyone else in the world is wired this way.  This has led to some interesting experiences over the years.

Such as when I was given new bed linens for Christmas, and my mom thought she could hide them in my closet without me noticing.  I mean, I am messy, but I do get dressed with clothes from my closet.  I don’t know why she thought I wouldn’t notice.  And then when I asked “um, what is up with the stuff in my closet?” she sent me off on an errand and POOF it disappeared.  What the heck? 

Then there is the stuff that she hides so well she can’t find it.  Every year as a teenager I would have at least one present that was purchased for the previous year’s Christmas.  Sometimes it didn’t make it until the next year – “Oh hey, I found this.  It’s your Christmas present.”   “Mom, it’s August.”   “Well, it’s just like Christmas in July!”   “Whatever, Mom.  Thanks, I guess.”

My cousin inherited this trait too.  The couple of years I lived with his family, he always knew what he was getting for Christmas.  I make sure that I wrap his presents with paper, rather than in a bag, just to frustrate his attempts to figure out what he’s getting. 

Both of them have birthdays within a month of Christmas.  I think that drives the need to know what they are getting.  As children, they had to wait all year for presents!  I can imagine not being able to take that at some point.

Anyway, I took my parents’ presents to their house at Thanksgiving.  I’d bet money that my mother has opened hers already.

Other people’s secrets

I recently learned that a friend of mine – who shall remain anonymous and does not read this blog – attempted suicide in the past 5 years.

I knew her at that time, and I had no idea.

It was a difficult thing to hear, although she told me in an “I’d like to share this with you” way. 

I feel honored that she trusts me enough to share this with me.  But I can’t help feeling guilty because I didn’t do anything at the time.

It was also hard to react to this information.  What do you say?  “I’m so sorry” doesn’t seem to cover it.

Fortunately, things are better now, and she is in a good place.  But as she told me, “once attempted, suicide always remains a viable option.”

So I’m putting it out there in the universe.  If you think no one cares about you, you’re wrong.  I do.  I don’t want anyone to feel like there’s nothing left to live for.  You’ll always have tomorrow.

"It’s different"

I had white-blond hair as a child.  My sister and parents are all brunettes, but some random combination of genes led me to blond.  Or else I’m not my father’s child – which is unlikely due to many, many other similarities.

As I grew older, my hair got darker.  It’s settled in a light brown hue.  I highlight it on occasion, but for the most part I don’t stray too far from my natural color.

On occasion though, I get a wild hair (see what I did there?).  I was auburn for a while in grad school.  I had a purple streak for a couple of months (hidden under the rest of my hair – just there for me to know about). 

And this fall, I decided to go with dark brown. 

My mother hadn’t seen my hair until the recent Thanksgiving holiday.  She hates it.  Absolutely.  Hates.  It.

How do I know that, you ask?  This conversation.

My mom:  “Oh.   You changed your hair.  It’s … different.”

Me:  “Yes, mom, change usually does make things different.”

My mom:  “It’s so dark!”

Me:  “Yes, it is.”

My mom:  “I’m just not used to it.”

  … the next morning…

My mom:  “Your hair is so dark.  It’s different.  And you cut it.”

Me:  “Yep.”

My mom:  “When did you do this?”

Me:  “Around Labor Day.”

My mom:  “Oh.  Well, it’s different.”

Me:  “Yes, it is.”

“It’s different” is female-code for “I hate it” – except when it’s not.  Sometimes it means “I’m not used to it yet.”  But not when it’s used repetitively.  Then it definitely means “I hate it,” seasoned lightly with “Why did you change it?  It was so pretty before.”