Friday, February 26, 2010

I'm not a bad driver, I'm just really good at Frogger

When I was a kid, my family had a Commodore 64. It came with a little green piece of plastic that we were directed to put on the computer so that our eyeballs didn't fry. Supposedly the black and white pixels would make our vision fail without much warning. The green plastic-y screen that we could attach (via the wonders of static cling!) to the screen would somehow make everything better.
Incidentally, I remember my dad being far less concerned about our eyeballs than my mom. I mean, if she caught us not using that screen, she would basically channel the mom from "A Christmas Story" and say something like "You'll fry your eyes out!"
But where was I? Oh yes. The computer.
So this computer was for my dad, but with the proper supervision, my sisters and I were allowed to use it. To be fair, I don't remember ever playing with it except to play Frogger.
I loved that game.
Unless you were raised under a rock (or perhaps a Jehova's Witness - I mean, I want to be sensitive here), you know what Frogger is. If not, I'll enlighten you. Bascially, in this game, you are a frog. If you want to name yourself, you can. Just know that if you do and refer to yourself (the frog) by name, my father will roll his eyes so strongly, you can hear them. Usually that sound is accompanied by a loud sigh, just in case you're wondering.
Anyway, your frog job was to cross the road and river and get to the finish line of each screen. You could hop forwards, backwards, or side to side.
Sounds simple right?
Now, the hardest part (IMHO) was the road - which was the first part. See, some of the cars and trucks would be nice and go slow. This meant that you could hop in front of them easily. But some of the cars would be fast. And that's when you had to be tricky. Because your job was to get to the finish line as quickly as possible, you had to take risks that you might not otherwise have taken. You *had* to jump in front of the cars quickly to make it. Otherwise, you'd suck - you'd get squished by oncoming traffic or you'd run out of time. If that happened, what did you really risk your eyeballs for anyway?
Anyway, as I was driving to work this morning, I realized that what most people might mistake for "bad driving" is really just me being AWESOME at Frogger.
Because sometimes you *have* to go faster, just so you can get to the right spot. Sometimes people don't think that I should be able to fit between two cars going 70 mph. But they're wrong. Sometimes people don't see the brilliance in zipping around so you can cleverly get to work a few seconds earlier than if you would've just stayed in the slow lane.
Shaving off a few seconds was huge in Frogger. It saved you from losing the game and sometimes the few seconds would be enough to give you bonuses.
That's one of the ways that I learned this valuable life lesson: impatience gets you everywhere. In fact, it gets you everywhere FASTER.

Monday, February 22, 2010

I ain't no porcupine, take off your kid gloves...

In the two years that I've been writing this blog, I've found that when I'm really sad I don't write here. I tend to pull away because when someone posts something that is horribly sad, sometimes it's hard for readers to know what to do or how to show support. It's kind of like the lady that has a mental breakdown in a public place. You give her a wide berth, smile awkwardly, and then thank God that you're not like that.

But what I recently found out is that it's hard for me to write about the stuff I usually do when I'm blissfully happy. Because the thing is, I am.

Blissfully happy that is.

To be clear, it mostly has to do with the fact that I'm trusting myself more. Through hard work, I've begun to challenge core beliefs that I've had about myself...and I'm finding that I am worthy all on my own. What's replacing these horrible thoughts that I've had about me for decades is the knowledge that no matter what happens in life, I WILL BE OKAY.

(cue Stuart Smalley)

I'd be lying if I said that everything was perfect. It's not. I'm worried about money, about my house, about my job, and about my health. Some days I worry about things more than others.

But I also would be lying if I didn't say that there is one thing in my life that I couldn't be happier about if I tried.

His name is Joe.

And this is where you should feel free to turn your head, barf politely at my sickeningly sweet post, and then maybe read some more.

Y'all, HE IS WONDERFUL. In dozens of ways, this man SHOWS me that I am a top priority. He shows me that I'm worthy of love. His constant support and even keel approach is fantastic. He listens to my rambling and to my rants. He laughs at how I'm not patient. He teases me about my faults and doesn't judge me when I fall short of my goals. He's giving, caring, and thoughtful.

The things that I've thought about writing has been stuff so full of sugary fantasticness that I figured that you probably wouldn't want to read it. And all that wants to come out when I think about what's on my heart and mind is how cute he is when he's sleeping. I want to tell you about how when my furnace was broken this past weekend and the heat never got above 56 degrees, he let me cuddle next to him (in the frumpiest, bulkiest, and non-sexiest clothing I own) to sap all of his heat. I want to tell you about how sweet he was on Valentine's Day and how when he calls me the nickname he has for me, I still sigh and giggle a bit.

Let's be one should have to be subjected to that stuff.

I'm not doodling his name in notebooks while listening to the Jonas Brothers or Taylor Swift, but I'm close. Perilously close. THAT is how over the moon I am about this guy right now.

He isn't perfect. But oh WOW is he exactly what I've been hoping for.

A part of me is worried that it won't last, that he'll leave or become some asshole like my father or some of the boyfriends before him. But I'm reminding myself that nothing risked is nothing gained. And at 8 months into dating, it FEELS like there is less and less of a possibility of that happening. If it does end, this will probably be one of the biggest heartbreaks of my life.

But if it doesn't? Well, now THAT would be something to write about.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I stand corrected


I'm not going to lie to you, folks. I've tried posting the picture below no less than eleventy million times and I *still* can't get it to get bigger without blurring the words. BUT it's a funny exchange - not so much on my part, but on my friend Kevin's part. I think you might be able to click on the picture and then see it via your browser in a larger size, but I can't be held responsible if that doesn't work.

So basically, I'm about as technilogically adept as your mom. Or wait. Maybe I mean my mom. Look, it doesn't matter because the end result is the same. You can't read the picture on my blog unless you're not human.

***** AAAAANNNNDDD the real post starts here *********

The picture to the left is a screen shot of a conversation between my friend Kevin and myself via Facebook. His Facebook page, y'all, because that is where the magic happens. On Kevin's page, you realize just how unpopular you really are - because (and I am not kidding you) everyone loves Kevin. He's invited everywhere, he goes to gigs and gets pictures with the band mates. I'm not sure, but I think even Jesus is Kevin's friend on Facebook. And you *know* how hard it is for Jesus to type.

If you go to my Facebook page, you're likely to see who is inviting me to the latest Facebook cause, to be their neighbor on Farmville OR Farmtown, and my friends wondering where I am. That's because I'm never ON Facebook these days. Just like, as pointed out by turleybenson, I'm never blogging these days.

It's a trend.

Or maybe it's the strong desire to set myself on fire when I think of even turning on my computer while I'm at home. I spend so much time in front of a computer at work - staring blindly at it in hopes that anything I do on it would actually remove even SOME of the stress in my life these days.

As it turns out, my life isn't going to get less stressful anytime soon. Which means that I'll probably be staring at my computer more often these days. Which means I'll be less likely to post quality items.


But this post isn't about me and my current dislike for computers. It's about how I was wrong.

Apparently, according to Kevin there are white pieces in Pictionary *and* a game called Chess. Who knew? *

AND according to BJ, Chutes and Ladders now have little white kids THAT ARE GIRLS as evidenced by the picture below:

I'm not even going to go into how those pieces look NOTHING like the ones that I remember as a kid. It makes me sad AND makes me want to watch a Peanuts seasonal special...because those don't change and after watching them, all feels right with the world.

I did have one win though...Candyland still has no white people OR women pieces. Just gingerbread men with Michelin Man faces. To be fair, I don't really remember them looking like that when I was a kid either, but as long as they didn't add any white women, I support their change.

*Even if I wanted to dispute those points further, Kevin busted out my good ol' tried and true argument winner. Basically, if you feel like someone has to "win" an argument, you just ask the question: "Who's right? Me or you?" and then whoever answers "me" first wins. I usually rattle it off like this: "Who'srightmeoryou?ME!" but you know, to each their own.

Friday, February 05, 2010

Why I think board game makers hate the movie "Lucas"

FACT: Board game makers are racist, sexist, and are probably made my jocks.

Can you have a factual statement that includes the word "probably?" Probably not. But work with me here.

First, have you ever seen the movie "Lucas?"

If you haven't, it's fantastic. Or maybe I think it's fantastic because I remember it being fantastic as a kid. You know, kind of like how I thought that the Brady Bunch had surprising endings when I was younger. Apparently, I was a dumb.

ANYway, in "Lucas" there is a character named Lucas (played by a Corey Haim) who is a nerdy kid and has a hard time fitting in. And long story short, he has a crush on a cute redhead (who doesn't?) and the jocks (sometimes led by Charlie Sheen) pick on him.

I don't want to ruin the ending, but it turns out there is no Kaiser Soze and the old lady had the Hope Diamond all along. AND they didn't explicitly say so in the movie, but I am pretty sure that Lucas was good in math.

Which brings me back to my fact. Board game developers hate people like me.

Point 1: Board game developers hate women.
Every time a board game has little pieces to move around the spaces, they're never women. EVER. Sometimes they're shoes, thimbles, blocks, weird shapes, or little men - but never are they women. Thanks a lot, a-holes.

Point 2: Board game developers hate white people.
The little pieces you move around the board (the ones that are not womanly) are not ever white. Red, blue, black, even chartreuse, but not white. I am offended!

Point 3: Board game developers hate math AND they clearly hate people who like math.

There are games for the word enthusiasts (think Hangman and Scrabble).

Are you artistic? Great. Then Pictionary is for you.

Are you diabetic? Candyland used to be for you.

Are you overly dramatic or illiterate? No problem - charades is for you.

There are even games for complete nerds and/or people who memorize facts by spending too much time at the bar on trivia night, as evidenced by the existence of Trivial Pursuit.

But math games? Games where you practice naming off the decimal places of pi? Games where you have to find the derivative of an algebraic equation? Games where you practice balancing chemical equations? No. No one makes those.

It's sad really. I mean, if you think about it, the people that were good in math and science were supposed to be the people running the world when we got older. I mean, isn't that what we were led to believe?

So what happened to people like me? I mean, sure... I work in a glamorous career with valves (Hello! Dream job!), but what's everyone else's excuse? Didn't anyone with left brain aptitudes and ovaries get to pitch game ideas to the game makers?

What's that? Oh. Apparently they're all working on cures for cancer, working to make our country safer, laughing at the word "boobies" or are out playing World of Warcraft.