Whatentine's Day?
For the first year in my life, Valentine's Day feels like a complete non-issue to me. I enjoy the holiday atmosphere, but haven't really connected the act of celebration with the spirit that it is celebrating. In other words, Valentine's Day hasn't made me bitter this year. I continue to chug along as if it were any other day. Unfortunately, my obliviousness has its consequences. Let me back up a bit.
Last October, I made a decision to stop worrying so much -- to stop using the "excuse" of inexperience to paralyze action and prevent me from gaining it (god I hated that line in Clinic). I made a vow to be a little bit more impulsive and take a few more chances with the unknown, with an understanding that things wouldn't usually work out, but that I would be richer for the experience. Two dates and 3.5 months later, I'm getting better at casting aside my inhibitions. I'm even getting better at taking implicit rejection in stride.
But then, every once in a while, I'm reminded of why I worry -- of why those inhibitions exist. And memories come rushing back to me in a wave of sullen, buzzkilling brooding. It's the absentmindedness, the obliviousness, the absolute cluelessness towards understanding women (or hell, men for that matter) that causes me to fuck things up when I don't agonize over doing them just right. I'm not an intuitive person, and you can't train intuition. All the practice in the world will just make me more practiced at worrying.
So which is worse? Worry or regret? Personally, I'd say regret, which is why I have to make a conscious effort to convince myself that, when taking a rare chance, the consequences for failure are small and manageable. I've convinced myself of such about replying to craigslist ads, but have yet failed to do so for initiating contact myself (on CL or OKC). As such, my obliviousness towards the holiday itself has come back to bite me in the ass. CL has been positively flooded with postings over the past couple of days, and I, in turn, have responded to a large number of them. I have my own set of worries and regrets about the way in which I did so, but this has rambled on long enough. Suffice it to say that, though I replied to a large number of posts, I have received no word back from any of them.
In keeping with the theme, however, I thought I'd re-share this adorable animation for anyone in the spirit of things.
So this morning, for the first time in a handful of days, I turned off my Xbox 360. Woohoo! You know what that means (or maybe you don't). I've been playing Survival mode in Dead Rising, which doesn't allow you to save, and since I have the console to myself and, y'know, a job, I've been pausing the game whenever I need a break while working my way towards 7 days (game time) of survival. I mentioned earlier that I basically had the strategy down pretty well, and that playing smart gets boring in a hurry. Well, last night I hit the 5-day mark and got myself a laser sword. Not wanting to have to do things over again, I continued with the lessons I'd learned in the hopes of making it to 7 days.
I went to bed last night with something like 6 days 10 hours, and 36 hours' worth of food. However, I had a horrible dream which involved a religious solicitor at my door, and my accidentally flipping the light switch which controls the power to the TV and Xbox (I really need to get that changed). My relief upon waking (and realizing it was a dream) distracted me from the knowledge I should have had 7 days in the bag. Instead, I finished up most of my food waiting for sunrise (which is about 8 AM -- the 7 day marker was at midnight), thinking that I was still on day 6 (there is no way to check the time except running around in the mall, which I wasn't about to do at night). So I went downstairs with my one remaining steak intending to forage for the last 12 hours, and saw that I'd already passed 7 days 10 hours.
Am I going anywhere with this? Not any more than usual, I suppose. Anyway, since the pressure was off, I decided to spend the rest of my morning galavanting around the mall with my laser sword and enjoying my newfound freedom from perfectionism. There was still enough food (in known locations) around the mall for at least 30 more hours of survival, not to mention survivors and psychopaths still dropping food. However, given my paranoia from the previous night's nightmare (what if the power goes out?) and my utter boredom with the "smart" play dynamic for maximizing survival time, I decided I'd prefer just to die and save my new unlocked stuff. If there had been anything to gain from setting a record (I would estimate that I could have made it to 9 days before it started getting legitimately hard), I probably would have stuck around. But it was time to move on and get the last 8 achievements in 72 hour mode.
But not right now. I think I'm going to take a break from Dead Rising for a few days. :P
Last October, I made a decision to stop worrying so much -- to stop using the "excuse" of inexperience to paralyze action and prevent me from gaining it (god I hated that line in Clinic). I made a vow to be a little bit more impulsive and take a few more chances with the unknown, with an understanding that things wouldn't usually work out, but that I would be richer for the experience. Two dates and 3.5 months later, I'm getting better at casting aside my inhibitions. I'm even getting better at taking implicit rejection in stride.
But then, every once in a while, I'm reminded of why I worry -- of why those inhibitions exist. And memories come rushing back to me in a wave of sullen, buzzkilling brooding. It's the absentmindedness, the obliviousness, the absolute cluelessness towards understanding women (or hell, men for that matter) that causes me to fuck things up when I don't agonize over doing them just right. I'm not an intuitive person, and you can't train intuition. All the practice in the world will just make me more practiced at worrying.
So which is worse? Worry or regret? Personally, I'd say regret, which is why I have to make a conscious effort to convince myself that, when taking a rare chance, the consequences for failure are small and manageable. I've convinced myself of such about replying to craigslist ads, but have yet failed to do so for initiating contact myself (on CL or OKC). As such, my obliviousness towards the holiday itself has come back to bite me in the ass. CL has been positively flooded with postings over the past couple of days, and I, in turn, have responded to a large number of them. I have my own set of worries and regrets about the way in which I did so, but this has rambled on long enough. Suffice it to say that, though I replied to a large number of posts, I have received no word back from any of them.
In keeping with the theme, however, I thought I'd re-share this adorable animation for anyone in the spirit of things.
So this morning, for the first time in a handful of days, I turned off my Xbox 360. Woohoo! You know what that means (or maybe you don't). I've been playing Survival mode in Dead Rising, which doesn't allow you to save, and since I have the console to myself and, y'know, a job, I've been pausing the game whenever I need a break while working my way towards 7 days (game time) of survival. I mentioned earlier that I basically had the strategy down pretty well, and that playing smart gets boring in a hurry. Well, last night I hit the 5-day mark and got myself a laser sword. Not wanting to have to do things over again, I continued with the lessons I'd learned in the hopes of making it to 7 days.
I went to bed last night with something like 6 days 10 hours, and 36 hours' worth of food. However, I had a horrible dream which involved a religious solicitor at my door, and my accidentally flipping the light switch which controls the power to the TV and Xbox (I really need to get that changed). My relief upon waking (and realizing it was a dream) distracted me from the knowledge I should have had 7 days in the bag. Instead, I finished up most of my food waiting for sunrise (which is about 8 AM -- the 7 day marker was at midnight), thinking that I was still on day 6 (there is no way to check the time except running around in the mall, which I wasn't about to do at night). So I went downstairs with my one remaining steak intending to forage for the last 12 hours, and saw that I'd already passed 7 days 10 hours.
Am I going anywhere with this? Not any more than usual, I suppose. Anyway, since the pressure was off, I decided to spend the rest of my morning galavanting around the mall with my laser sword and enjoying my newfound freedom from perfectionism. There was still enough food (in known locations) around the mall for at least 30 more hours of survival, not to mention survivors and psychopaths still dropping food. However, given my paranoia from the previous night's nightmare (what if the power goes out?) and my utter boredom with the "smart" play dynamic for maximizing survival time, I decided I'd prefer just to die and save my new unlocked stuff. If there had been anything to gain from setting a record (I would estimate that I could have made it to 9 days before it started getting legitimately hard), I probably would have stuck around. But it was time to move on and get the last 8 achievements in 72 hour mode.
But not right now. I think I'm going to take a break from Dead Rising for a few days. :P