*blows off the dust*
I figure if I'm going to post something for the first time since February, it might as well have some substance to it.
So I will share with you a long-ish ramble about the state of my RP self and my shocking realization that I'm "getting up there in years."
(Bonus points if you get the cut text reference.)
For the first time since I joined my first game back in...dear God 2003...I put myself on hiatus from my current game last week. Not kidding. The first time I've ever gone on a declared hiatus from play from a game ever. Okay, I've put down slow time for vacations/holidays/conventions, etc. but apart from a week at Infinitus, I've always managed to at least keep up with returning all the day's tags within a day, two at the most. I felt like it was my responsibility and I took it seriously. Didn't matter if I knew the tag probably wouldn't be returned that night, or very possibly in the next week. I wanted to reply in a timely fashion, so I did.
I did this through broken fingers, reconstruction of a dog's knee and the subsequent rehab, illness, vacations, two high school graduations, countless soccer seasons, a full time job, raising two kids, a new puppy, a house, and a husband. Why? Because RPing was my happy place. I loved to lose myself in that make believe world and live as someone much cooler than me for a while.
Over the years, there were many games - pan fandom and HP. Some games stood the test of time, some folded within a few months to be replaced by newer and better. Some were canon, some were AU, and some were so wildly complex that I was staggered by the sheer depth of imagination to create that preface. Some closed reluctantly, some were simply abandoned; some I was sad to see go, some I was glad to leave.
In all, though, there is a deep connection that has stayed with me to this day. I can't see Cillian Murphy and not think of Bill Weasley and a tent. I see Ben Savage or hear "Lets Get it Started" and not be back in Marietta's head with her beloved Hufflepuff.
Those are just two of hundreds. Two from my first games in the early 00s.
That should tell you how real these people are in my head, and how much I loved every moment I got to play them.
So...I told you that story to tell you this one.
Back about ten years ago, I coached a few seasons for DJ's soccer team. I wasn't the best coach, but I wasn't the worst. My favorite part of the year, though, was the parents vs the kids game. In our Rec league, it's traditionally the last practice of the season and kids and parents talk trash about it all season long (Keep in mind...these are 8 year olds we're talking about.)
Most of the parents had a ball with it, and had fun letting their kids beat them to the ball, or sometimes being utterly stunned when their kid beat them outright. Mostly, it was just an hour to get out on the field with their kids.
Then there are the Peaked in High School jerks. Whether they did or didn't, I don't know, but it's what it felt like to me. The most memorable was this one father who came to the game in cleats and shin guards for our parents v kids game. The team was made up of 9-10 year old boys and girls. He took that field like he was Clint Dempsey and it was the world cup final. Before I really settled in, it was like 2-0 in favor of the parents. I started passing the ball to the kids and tried to remind him that this was for fun, for the kids, not for us to relive glory days. He'd listen for a second, then he was back to stealing the ball from the kids. Then...the inevitable happened. Captain Douchenozzle got the ball, dribbled it past like five kids that came up to his navel and railed it towards the goal. The little girl playing central defender didn't have a chance and all she had time to do was bring up her arms to protect her face.
I ended the game then and there (he was pissed) and the parents took the little girl to the doctor. Four days later, at the end of season party, the little girl showed up in a cast and two broken arm bones. Captain DN arrived and I heard him crowing about our little game to one of the other fathers and took it upon myself to let him know just what he'd done. It was the only moment of satisfaction I had from that whole ordeal - that, and watching him slink out of the party a few minutes later.
I coached for a few more seasons, but I never allowed the parents vs kids game again. I wasn't going to condone that kind of thing any longer.
So...why is that relevant, you might be asking if you're still reading this. And, seriously, kudos to you if you are.
That game has come up a lot in my navel-gazing during my hiatus as I figure out new and exciting ways to loom knit during the nights I used to spend scrolling through tumblr on the off-chance a tag would come in that I could reply to. Last night, though, I finally made the connection.
In the past few games I've been in...I've become Captain DN. I'm forever trying to regain that former feeling of joy that came from navigating a small, make believe world and all the friendships and relationships in it. Unfortunately, there is no way to do that. Doesn't matter if it was a sport, a club, or whatever time in your life - once it's passed, it's over. Sure, you can join an adult league, but it will never have the same feeling it did years before.
Time waits for no one. It marches on whether we want it to or not, changing things, and us, as it does so.
Which leads to my current dilemma. Do I stay in the current game (which I really am enjoying) but with the acceptance that I'll never have the levels of involvement that I really want (thus mitigating the frustration that continually plagues me over dropped threads, lost opportunities, and forced interactions)? Or do I just throw the voices into a suitcase and shove it under the bed, so to speak, knowing that this will mean an end to even the slivers of happiness some of those relationships bring me?
I don't have an answer. Not yet. I'm still knitting and thinking and wondering.
xposted from DW
So I will share with you a long-ish ramble about the state of my RP self and my shocking realization that I'm "getting up there in years."
(Bonus points if you get the cut text reference.)
For the first time since I joined my first game back in...dear God 2003...I put myself on hiatus from my current game last week. Not kidding. The first time I've ever gone on a declared hiatus from play from a game ever. Okay, I've put down slow time for vacations/holidays/conventions, etc. but apart from a week at Infinitus, I've always managed to at least keep up with returning all the day's tags within a day, two at the most. I felt like it was my responsibility and I took it seriously. Didn't matter if I knew the tag probably wouldn't be returned that night, or very possibly in the next week. I wanted to reply in a timely fashion, so I did.
I did this through broken fingers, reconstruction of a dog's knee and the subsequent rehab, illness, vacations, two high school graduations, countless soccer seasons, a full time job, raising two kids, a new puppy, a house, and a husband. Why? Because RPing was my happy place. I loved to lose myself in that make believe world and live as someone much cooler than me for a while.
Over the years, there were many games - pan fandom and HP. Some games stood the test of time, some folded within a few months to be replaced by newer and better. Some were canon, some were AU, and some were so wildly complex that I was staggered by the sheer depth of imagination to create that preface. Some closed reluctantly, some were simply abandoned; some I was sad to see go, some I was glad to leave.
In all, though, there is a deep connection that has stayed with me to this day. I can't see Cillian Murphy and not think of Bill Weasley and a tent. I see Ben Savage or hear "Lets Get it Started" and not be back in Marietta's head with her beloved Hufflepuff.
Those are just two of hundreds. Two from my first games in the early 00s.
That should tell you how real these people are in my head, and how much I loved every moment I got to play them.
So...I told you that story to tell you this one.
Back about ten years ago, I coached a few seasons for DJ's soccer team. I wasn't the best coach, but I wasn't the worst. My favorite part of the year, though, was the parents vs the kids game. In our Rec league, it's traditionally the last practice of the season and kids and parents talk trash about it all season long (Keep in mind...these are 8 year olds we're talking about.)
Most of the parents had a ball with it, and had fun letting their kids beat them to the ball, or sometimes being utterly stunned when their kid beat them outright. Mostly, it was just an hour to get out on the field with their kids.
Then there are the Peaked in High School jerks. Whether they did or didn't, I don't know, but it's what it felt like to me. The most memorable was this one father who came to the game in cleats and shin guards for our parents v kids game. The team was made up of 9-10 year old boys and girls. He took that field like he was Clint Dempsey and it was the world cup final. Before I really settled in, it was like 2-0 in favor of the parents. I started passing the ball to the kids and tried to remind him that this was for fun, for the kids, not for us to relive glory days. He'd listen for a second, then he was back to stealing the ball from the kids. Then...the inevitable happened. Captain Douchenozzle got the ball, dribbled it past like five kids that came up to his navel and railed it towards the goal. The little girl playing central defender didn't have a chance and all she had time to do was bring up her arms to protect her face.
I ended the game then and there (he was pissed) and the parents took the little girl to the doctor. Four days later, at the end of season party, the little girl showed up in a cast and two broken arm bones. Captain DN arrived and I heard him crowing about our little game to one of the other fathers and took it upon myself to let him know just what he'd done. It was the only moment of satisfaction I had from that whole ordeal - that, and watching him slink out of the party a few minutes later.
I coached for a few more seasons, but I never allowed the parents vs kids game again. I wasn't going to condone that kind of thing any longer.
So...why is that relevant, you might be asking if you're still reading this. And, seriously, kudos to you if you are.
That game has come up a lot in my navel-gazing during my hiatus as I figure out new and exciting ways to loom knit during the nights I used to spend scrolling through tumblr on the off-chance a tag would come in that I could reply to. Last night, though, I finally made the connection.
In the past few games I've been in...I've become Captain DN. I'm forever trying to regain that former feeling of joy that came from navigating a small, make believe world and all the friendships and relationships in it. Unfortunately, there is no way to do that. Doesn't matter if it was a sport, a club, or whatever time in your life - once it's passed, it's over. Sure, you can join an adult league, but it will never have the same feeling it did years before.
Time waits for no one. It marches on whether we want it to or not, changing things, and us, as it does so.
Which leads to my current dilemma. Do I stay in the current game (which I really am enjoying) but with the acceptance that I'll never have the levels of involvement that I really want (thus mitigating the frustration that continually plagues me over dropped threads, lost opportunities, and forced interactions)? Or do I just throw the voices into a suitcase and shove it under the bed, so to speak, knowing that this will mean an end to even the slivers of happiness some of those relationships bring me?
I don't have an answer. Not yet. I'm still knitting and thinking and wondering.
xposted from DW