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Small Victories
July 9th, 2009
Day off Tuesday: got, maybe, half my to-do list done, including calls to the Shadow Lady and the Man called Dad. Dad was in a tizzy because his landlords respond to a misplaced rent check by threatening eviction in five days. Probably not any more legal down there than it is here. Wish these drones wouldn't scare him with their nonsense.
Wednesday: worked 8-5, am so not a morning person, around 7pm shrugged off the sensation of being squashed into unconsciousness so I could scratch a few more things off Tuesday's to-do list. By the time I got back from the grocery store, I wasn't tired at all and wasted hours surfing wikipedia's entries on tv "horror hosts" from Vampira to Elvira, Count Floyd to Dr. Morgus, Ghoulardi to Marvin, the Near-Sighted Madman (Something indefinably cool about Marvin. Here we have Terry Bennett, a man who maintained he was far happier at his weekday morning gig as a children's show host, spending his Saturday nights in a black sweater and oversized glasses, trying to be as morbid as possible...and succeeding so well there's no entry for the actor or the children's show on wikipedia, you have to follow the citation links for those. Guess we know what kind of people update wikipedia. Drinking poison, showing bad movies, and constantly cutting off pieces of his wife (she regenerates while off-camera.)...and half a century later, fondly remembered. In this, there is some lesson about the allure of horror, the true meaning of Halloween... I've never quite gotten this right, the unity of primal responses: passion, fear, laughter. I want... )

Anyway, Thursday I check in with Dad (the Rent Crisis is averted. The left hand drone just hadn't gotten around to keeping his promise to give the check to the right hand drone who properly deals with it.) Then, I go out into the Outer Circle to find the Auto Parts place. It takes me three turn-arounds and an hour to go less than ten miles, but I finally own a replacement taillight (for the one that was broken in, y'know, winter). (Coming Tuesday, Hopper (my car) gets her big long-overdue fix-up of everything that's falling apart. ) Then I drop off the clothes and sleeping bags at Goodwill, find out they also take books, and ask if they have mens' shoes (not really) or summer-weight shirts. Directed to the corner of the store where Mens' wear is strategically contained, I find no Hawaiian shirts... but something better in the long run: one lightweight shirt with thick white and bluish-black horizontal stripes; one slate-grey pair of belt-less cotton pants; one black waist-length jacket. I'll reclaim the black hair color spray from my giveaway pile, and then I'll just need some pale makeup, maybe some red eyeshadow, and hair gel to make my hair more unmanageable than it already is. *michievous, slightly crazed smile* I'm nearly ready for Halloween. If only I were ready for August. Most of the to-do list done. (most)
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I've been doing lots of thinking on philosophical and metaphysical topics lately, and one side note of that is this: The threefold or triangle system of classifying gamers could be adapted to people in general, if "how you view the game" was changed to "how you view the meaning of life". Some people are Gamist. They do things to acquire the things that enable them to get the other things that count as trappings of success. I've never understood what sane person would eat brownies lined with gold foil, or needed a fleet of cars for one family...but see, it shows they're "winning" (the filthy twinks. Understand, I don't begrudge people for having money. I begrudge them wasting it. Bad twink! No xp!) Anyway, other people are "simulationist"-equivalents...um, Experiencers? They believe that living life means enjoying the sights, sounds, and experiences in life. They care what a peach tastes like, what their daughter's first word was. Some of them travel to have adventures. Some of them are happy watching paint dry or staring at the full moon for forty minutes at a stretch on a summer night. What they want to experience varies (like different genres of game) but the attitude underlying it is the same. The "narrativist"-equivalents, however, believe that the purpose of life is to fit yourself into the larger, unknown plan of a higher power, and the more you're in harmony with where God/the Universe/Glorynnea wants you to be, the smoother your life will go and the happier you'll be. I'm amused that this makes Rick Warren and his evangelicals the bigger triangle equivalent of the Storyteller system goths. (This would indicate that the coordinates of a given person on each triangle do not correlate. One imagines the separation between real and imaginary, single self and current character, more than explains this. It's one thing to accept that your character has to have setbacks in order to make a better story, but something much more difficult to see that your life is but one thread in a larger tapestry, that every time you meet someone else, it's a crossover or cameo into their life story.) In gaming, I'd say I'm about 60% Simulationist, 20% each Gamist and Narrativist, getting more Narra as I get older. (I keep trying to Simulate the feel of Gamist play without really being Gamist.) In life, I'm 45% each Experiencer and Purposeful, only about 10% Gamist... and I like to Experience *being* Purposeful. but sometimes, I'd like to Experience the stuff the Gamists keep hogging as 'prizes' for being 'winners' (like wearing nice clothes just to look good, going on a date, visiting Australia just to see and hear and feel it)....and the genuine religion the Purposefuls enjoy is spammed and messed up by all these twink Gamists who think they can *win* at religion. No absolution without true repentance, munchkin! and no real God of Love endorses hate! Faith without Works is Dead! I can feel this getting foamy. I think I've made my point, though.
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Today... was a good day. Managed to get in touch with Akeila and carpool with her and CW, her Don'tjinxit Complicated, (note 1) to the Flowerytree wedding. Beautiful ceremony (Groomsmen in chainmail with Alpha-Omega-over crossed-swords heraldry, Bride and bridesmaids in deep red and white Renaissance dresses). saw many people I knew, and everyone seemed at peace with one another, putting aside conflicts in celebration of this miraculous event. saw Ms. Q there, which was good, as I keep losing touch with her. saw Former Roommate there, but failed to deal with the financial loose end we'd decided to fix at the wedding because we didn't want to do it across state lines. Didn't know the proper timing to doing business at a wedding reception. Guess I haven't seen enough gangster movies :) Was worried my homemade Scottish kilt-ensemble wouldn't pass muster among Scadians, but people said it was good. Hope the happy couple like my wedding gift. (Does anyone know if the new Mrs. Flowerytree drinks tea?) Good real conversation with Akeila and CW on way to and fro, then I showed them my New Place, and they were nice enough to take me out to dinner (I had grilled salmon and a caesar salad. For me, that's healthy.) and buy me some housewarming gifts (a decent frying pan and a blender). I also got them to go through my giveaway pile and take some stuff I'd rather had a good useful home.


Note 1: CW's an actual excellent driver, made up most of the late from our late start. had I tried to find the place myself I would've been derailed by road construction before I'd even gotten a third of the way. We would've arrived exactly on time if only the final street in the directions had been labeled in realspace. Fortunately, I recognized a building in the distance from its photo in the Google Maps cyberspace illusion of the proper street, and Akeila was puzzling out an actual, if un - detailed, paper map of the town. We got there just as we got a text message on my phone that said "ur late". Technology is getting weird.

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