(no subject)
Hi Livejournal. Been a while. I've been busy. Had my penis in my hand, beating it mercilessly. Y'know how that is.
Not really. Well. Not all the time. Been playing Skyrim. I think I'm about finished witht hat. I estimate I've been through the game four+ times. I'm gonna finish out the playthrough I'm on now (a Khajiit named Bill -- Bill the cat) and put it aside. First two playthroughs were laregely unfinished and were on ps3. They were unfinished BECAUSE they were on ps3. Skyrim and ps3 just did not get along. Exchanged the PS3 copy for a 360 copy that worked much better. Played it through once. My sister started playing near the end of that playthrough. I figured, "What the hell. I'm going to have to hold her hand while sheplays her game. Might as well do another." That's how Bill the Cat was born. Had I been planning a real playthrough he would have had a real name, like the first real 360 playthrough -- Magnus von Magnusson, a burly Nord I named after the legendary strongman. But Bill the Cat ended up being a much better character than Magnus von Magnusson, probably because I was competing with my sister to be a bigger badass at nothing. SHE wasn't competing. She was just trying to kill things and pick up as much worthless crap as she could. I was determined to show her how fucking badass you could make your dude. Think I succeeded. Bill the Cat should have an award for being the biggest badass in all of Skyrim. Hm. Think I'll make one for him. (In-game, of course. I'm too lazy to do such things in real life.)
Probably not unrelated, my health's been pretty rotten while I've been completely inactive. Less said about it the better, but I think the deterioration of health fed the desire to play the game and vice versa. Bad scene. Here's the fucked up thing. My sister's started playing the game and in doing so has taken on a lot of my habits. I don't think she realizes she's done so. But I can watch her deteriorate. It's scary. I don't mean to sound mean, but in the month she's played, her ass has gotten MUCH bigger. (This comes from a phenomenally fat guy, so I KNOW where it comes from.) I want to tell her to stop for her own good, but... honestly, she's enjoying this more than I've ever seen her enjoy anything else, and we finally have something to talk about. Point is, she's become a mirror, an example of what I already knew -- everything in moderation.
Had a rock and roll friend who completely disagreed with that notion. I adored his lifestyle and kinda wanted to be like him, but I hate hangovers too much.
Here's the rotten thing. Batman: Arkham City's going to land on my doorstep tomorrow and even though I WILL finish this playthrough of Skyrim, I figure I'll dive right into Arkham City and the same thing'll happen to me with it...
Please don't take what I said above to mean Skyrim is a bad game. It's so far from it. It's the best game I've ever played. And i'm not saying that lightly. It'll just get a grip on you.
In the meantime I've been devoting an hour or so every weekday to finding a job. No bites. That's been weighing on me. Had a dream a couple of nights ago. Possibly the most symbolic dream I've ever had. In it, I apparently worked at a large, rich financial firm with a lot of people I went to school with that I know became successful in their respective fields. All of these people also have significant personality disorders. The type of people you just don't want to be around. But there I was, in a bar/nightclub made of gold (See -- symbolism) with them, dressed nicely, they were happy and accepting of me. I was one of them. We were all obviously part of the new guard of this financial firm. The up-and-comers, having a drink after work. All TVs were tuned to CNBC and Fox Financial. Everyone had their ipads out looking at stocks.
The old guard came into the bar and were greeted warmly. They were happy to see us, we were happy to see them, I felt out of place and scared. The old guys were actors from television shows. The type of character actors who you'd know their faces but you'd never be able to remember their names. One of them was John Spencer from The West Wing. (Had to look it up on IMDB.) One looked like an older, better groomed Brian Posehn. But none of the old guard were happy. They were all miserable. Their lives were wrecks. The stress of their profession had ruined them.
A few hours after I woke up, I realized I'd watched an episode of Mad Men in my head. Didn't take away from the symbolic power of the dream a bit. I don't want to be anyone else's version of successful if it means an unacceptable level of stress and having to deal with people I dislike. I'd rather find something that I can live with and pays enough to get me by. That will be my version of success.
Also notable -- I've passed the tenth anniversary of the first Mixola without doing a new one in over a year, or even starting one. To this I say: Fuck it.
Not really. Well. Not all the time. Been playing Skyrim. I think I'm about finished witht hat. I estimate I've been through the game four+ times. I'm gonna finish out the playthrough I'm on now (a Khajiit named Bill -- Bill the cat) and put it aside. First two playthroughs were laregely unfinished and were on ps3. They were unfinished BECAUSE they were on ps3. Skyrim and ps3 just did not get along. Exchanged the PS3 copy for a 360 copy that worked much better. Played it through once. My sister started playing near the end of that playthrough. I figured, "What the hell. I'm going to have to hold her hand while sheplays her game. Might as well do another." That's how Bill the Cat was born. Had I been planning a real playthrough he would have had a real name, like the first real 360 playthrough -- Magnus von Magnusson, a burly Nord I named after the legendary strongman. But Bill the Cat ended up being a much better character than Magnus von Magnusson, probably because I was competing with my sister to be a bigger badass at nothing. SHE wasn't competing. She was just trying to kill things and pick up as much worthless crap as she could. I was determined to show her how fucking badass you could make your dude. Think I succeeded. Bill the Cat should have an award for being the biggest badass in all of Skyrim. Hm. Think I'll make one for him. (In-game, of course. I'm too lazy to do such things in real life.)
Probably not unrelated, my health's been pretty rotten while I've been completely inactive. Less said about it the better, but I think the deterioration of health fed the desire to play the game and vice versa. Bad scene. Here's the fucked up thing. My sister's started playing the game and in doing so has taken on a lot of my habits. I don't think she realizes she's done so. But I can watch her deteriorate. It's scary. I don't mean to sound mean, but in the month she's played, her ass has gotten MUCH bigger. (This comes from a phenomenally fat guy, so I KNOW where it comes from.) I want to tell her to stop for her own good, but... honestly, she's enjoying this more than I've ever seen her enjoy anything else, and we finally have something to talk about. Point is, she's become a mirror, an example of what I already knew -- everything in moderation.
Had a rock and roll friend who completely disagreed with that notion. I adored his lifestyle and kinda wanted to be like him, but I hate hangovers too much.
Here's the rotten thing. Batman: Arkham City's going to land on my doorstep tomorrow and even though I WILL finish this playthrough of Skyrim, I figure I'll dive right into Arkham City and the same thing'll happen to me with it...
Please don't take what I said above to mean Skyrim is a bad game. It's so far from it. It's the best game I've ever played. And i'm not saying that lightly. It'll just get a grip on you.
In the meantime I've been devoting an hour or so every weekday to finding a job. No bites. That's been weighing on me. Had a dream a couple of nights ago. Possibly the most symbolic dream I've ever had. In it, I apparently worked at a large, rich financial firm with a lot of people I went to school with that I know became successful in their respective fields. All of these people also have significant personality disorders. The type of people you just don't want to be around. But there I was, in a bar/nightclub made of gold (See -- symbolism) with them, dressed nicely, they were happy and accepting of me. I was one of them. We were all obviously part of the new guard of this financial firm. The up-and-comers, having a drink after work. All TVs were tuned to CNBC and Fox Financial. Everyone had their ipads out looking at stocks.
The old guard came into the bar and were greeted warmly. They were happy to see us, we were happy to see them, I felt out of place and scared. The old guys were actors from television shows. The type of character actors who you'd know their faces but you'd never be able to remember their names. One of them was John Spencer from The West Wing. (Had to look it up on IMDB.) One looked like an older, better groomed Brian Posehn. But none of the old guard were happy. They were all miserable. Their lives were wrecks. The stress of their profession had ruined them.
A few hours after I woke up, I realized I'd watched an episode of Mad Men in my head. Didn't take away from the symbolic power of the dream a bit. I don't want to be anyone else's version of successful if it means an unacceptable level of stress and having to deal with people I dislike. I'd rather find something that I can live with and pays enough to get me by. That will be my version of success.
Also notable -- I've passed the tenth anniversary of the first Mixola without doing a new one in over a year, or even starting one. To this I say: Fuck it.