The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

So, I am not a person who normally eats breakfasts. After that stint of time when I was just kind refusing to really eat anything, I told myself “Okay, fine, self. We’ll eat. But we’re only going to do it when hungry, and try to keep it to a minimum.”
That hasn’t totally held up. I snack and whatnot. But I certainly try to keep actual meals to a minimum. Preferably one big one and a snack, but most of the time it gets down to two meals. Those two meals tend to be lunch and dinner. These tend to be the ones I keep up with and do because they’re much more likely to be social situations, and that’s kind of the one rule I always follow: Always eat in a social situation if the option is given to you. So, you know, it makes sense those would be common.

Suddenly, however, I am now a morning person, getting up at 6:30 in the fucking AM. Suddenly, I am hungry to the point of being sick by the time a normal lunch period rolls around if I don’t eat a breakfast. This puts me in a dilemma. A potential three meal a day dilemma.

Strategies to try include the “snack on the way out the door,” or “Pop Tart” method, and the “stop being such an idiot and eat breakfast” method. But none of those really seem to be options that I’m happy with. It’s so hard for me to change my ways, and harder still for me to be okay with it. I’d rather it just be the same sort of thing I’ve been doing forever, where I have a big lunch to make up for breakfast, and then a small dinner, or vice versa.

But I dunno, I guess I’m all grown up and some shit, and I should just deal with it. I just hate bending my will to my stupid body that I hate. Rather it be on my terms.
Stupid body. Always needing food and sleep and being all wrong.

Saturday night, I dreamed I was in an Adventure Game.

There were at least three distinct time periods, and I could travel between them for some reason. The one in the “past” was some sort of party, there was a “future” where I was in some sort of TV or Movie studio where something involving puppets was being filmed, and the “present”, which was in some sort of apartment complex, as well as some woods outside.

The puzzles seemed to revolve heavily around this item I had. It looked like a Compact Flash Memory Card reader, but it was a “Lip Scanner.” I was having to convince people to kiss it in order to get a perfect scan of their lips and a selection of their genetic makeup for some damn reason. I built up a really big collection of people, both past and present. I think I was establishing lineage? Maybe? But there were other things.

The one puzzle I remember clearly was me trying to make a fountain spring of someone spit. Seriously. To do this involved blocking an already existing spring with a rock, and using the lip scanner to make some spare saliva. Then somehow, all of this got into a water fountain at the party in the past, and I had the guy confirm that it was his spit by tasting it. And then that had the spring become a saliva spring. Yeah, I have no fucking idea either.

Moral of the Story: Adventure games are really fucking weird, man. Really fucking weird. Or I guess, maybe it’s my dreams that are really weird.

So, I bought a T-shirt, as I am fairly often doing. I noticed that the sloshy t-shirts on Homestar Runner (as first seen in this sbemail and later in this wonderful bit of music.) were on the super clearanceness! So I snapped one up. Because, you know, why not? Seriously. WHY NOT?

Anyway, so, as per usual, my mother doesn’t get the reference on the shirt. She constantly has things to say about my shirts being inappropriate and whatnot, even when she knows not what she’s talking about and I can prove that I constantly get compliments and whatnot about them. Having a guy with a gun on your shirt does not mean I’m going to shoot you.

In any case, this time, instead of asking me, she decides that she has a computer, she’s going to just look it up. So she googles “sloshing.” This apparently comes up in Urban Dictionary or something similar as a word for female masturbation. So she runs downstairs to check my shirt to make sure…! And realizes it’s “sloshy.” But she’s still concerned, because it has a lyric from their song on the back of the shirt, “We Don’t Really Care About You.” Which, apparently means that I don’t care about my students? I mean, obviously, right? So we have a talk about it, and I show her the cartoon. Yay.

I dunno, does she really think that I’m going to wear a shirt with something that inappropriate in front of my class? Give me a little credit, you know?

Anyway, that’s my most recent T-shirt/Parental story. Yay.

Do you know what’s awesome?

Chainsawsuit.

You should all read Chainsawsuit. It is fairly random humor at its finest. I can’t stop laughing at this comic, for instance. And let’s not forget my personal favorite about the Fontalist.

Seriously, I have no idea if his other comic is any good, but Chainsawsuit? Now that’s something I can get behind.

Yep, that’s basically all this post is about. Go read it nao.

Let’s talk about sexual attraction in a round-about, not as specific as I should be way.

When I first got into the whole “being attracted to people” game, I was pretty much a complete n00b and getting into it significantly later due to the whole “unsure about my gender, thus unsure about who it was okay to like” thing. So I really didn’t have any touchstones. I didn’t know what I wanted. I feel like I’m still figuring out what I want as I go along. And one thing I realize, more and more, that I want is realism.

Not like, I don’t know, the art movement. But just… I’m realistic here. The person or persons I am eventually with are not going to have perfect builds. Not that I don’t think I couldn’t find someone who was a model, perfect bodybuilder, or something if I really wanted to. But that’s not what’s really important to me. I want someone, a someone I like. A person’s body is really more a nice afterthought, it’s what’s in their brain that counts.

I like to think I have a nice brain. One people could like. I also know that I’m always going to be a little pudgy. A little soft in the middle. Whatever you want to say. Not like, fat, perse? But I’m never going to be thin and athletic either. And there’s a strong chance that my partner will be the same way.

I found that once I took that into account, and I just kind of embraced it, that not only did I feel much more attractive, but I found images of people who similarly accepted their builds and are just going with it equally attractive. Being seductive is all a frame of mind, and if someone shows me that they are, well, it doesn’t matter that they don’t have a six pack of abs or whatever the fuck, you know?

The internet lets you have basically any fantasy you want, and I love it for it. But at the same time, reality has its perks, because you can actually have that, you know?
It’s… nice.
It’s very nice.

So this first week had me pretty exhausted. Not because school was particularly draining or anything. It was simply because I was waking up really, really fucking early, and I am simply not used to that.

BUT IT APPEARS IT SERVES A PURPOSE!

I have been getting up early, and going to my office, and working on stuff. I’ve graded papers, done some planning, did some homework in my classes. I did stuff!
But on Thursday, I got distracted with certain nice conversations with certain nice people. So by the time I got to my office, it was already 8. I didn’t have time to get everything done! There were 3 papers left ungraded! Gasp! So I swore I’d come back around noon, and headed to the university press.

When I get back, instead of the completely empty office I am used to, I was greeted with an office with people in it. An office filled with people who are social.
Now, I’m glad that people want to talk to me. That’s neat. I’m happy to help people out with their computer issues and such. That is also neat. But goodness, it took me 45 minutes to grade those three papers. I had some nice conversations, but I wasn’t getting anything done.

So that’s why I’m going to keep waking up early, I suppose. I really don’t want to have to do that kind of work at home. It’ll help me relax better if I don’t. And I’m not going to get much done while visiting with people. So I’ll get there early when I’m the only one there and bang it out.

It is interesting, actually being in a real office enviroment like that, though. I’d love the visiting if it was just a matter of “work X hours and you’re done.” For better or worse, though, teaching does not work like that. So, you know, what are you gonna do. Gotta get my shit done.
Probably.

So, who cares how good a job I do, right?

All that matters is that I’m dressed up, in proper, masculine fashion.

Who gives a shit if I’m engaging my students, or helping them learn to write better, or any number of actually important things. No, all that matters is that I am not allowed to be comfortable in my own skin. I can’t just be me, who is an intelligent, fun, and effective teacher. I have to be someone different, someone who is probably worse at a lot of things, but damn, they look good, don’t they?

That’s what’s important in life: Being a false person.

Ugh. Arg.

Hey, it’s my first day of teaching.

Wish me luck, okay? Or leg-breaking. I guess it’s kind of like acting, right?

Here’s something to expect from here on in: Me talking about teaching. I have to write a daily teaching journal for this assistantship anyway. I would expect that a lot of the less boring entries from that will end up here, if only to make it easier on myself while I do so much. While I adjust, you know? Plus, they’ll hopefully end up being vaguely interesting.

But yeah, expect rambling about teaching. It’s all new shit, and I’m sure I’ll want to talk about it.

Well, here I go. Wish me luck.

I am a fool.
It is amazing to me how much enjoyment I am getting out of my Gamefly subscription, and so ridiculous that it took me this long to try it.

I mean, I’m a gamer. I enjoy playing the various vidjeo gamez that are out there in the world. But most of all, I want to be involved in the video game conversation. I want to have opinions about games, and be able to talk about them with some level of authority. This means I want to play most games that come out, even if only for a few minutes, just so I can have that experience.

Before, a game came out that I wanted to try, I would either buy it day one, which is really a waste of money, especially with a game I just want to try and not, you know, know for a fact I want to play through and beat, or sit there and wait to waste 20-30 on it some other time. Either way, chances are I would get that game, play it for a day or two, and then something else would distract the shit out of me and it would just sit there.
Compare this to Gamefly, where I can hear about any game I’m even vaguely interested in, put it in my Queue, and get it, play it for half a day, hate it, and immediately send it back without feeling badly at all. I get to try so many things at the fraction of the cost. And if a game really does catch me? I can buy it at a reduced price, or I can just keep it and play all the way through it. It works so well, and it should work so well, and it kind of blows my mind that it took me this long to try it.

Of course, there are downsides. I’ve always rather liked the fact that I have what basically amounts to a huge lending library of games that people can come over and borrow. I like being able to provide that service.
But man, the money. The money I am going to save. Just think of the money. I’ve already started holding myself back on some games. I mean, some are inevitable. But I’m pruning down what games are must-buys. It feels so good.

Oddly enough, it feels so good.

I woke up the other morning with a familiar sensation. My ankle was hurting like hell. I couldn’t put any pressure on it.

So I hopped on one foot, basically, to the bathroom and whatnot. By the time I walked downstairs to pay some attention to the dog, who was very excited that she got me up early, it had reduced itself to a limp, and I could go on with my day.

But shit, that happened with me wearing my ankle brace all day.

What the hell? Why did it work so well in the beginning, but now is working so little? Am I suddenly wearing it wrong now? Am I building up an immunity to being braced or something?

Fuck, I don’t want to have to go see a doctor about my stupid ankle. Though I suppose I do have my own insurance to do such things now…