The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

It’s bedtime, and… oh shit. There’s no blog post ready for today…? Well, fuck it, linkdump time.

I find this comic pretty hilarious. It’s a new favorite. Yay comics!

Speaking of comics, there’s a reason why Curvy is such a NSFW delight, and it’s pages like this one.

Look at that guy dance. I mean, seriously. Wow.

Hands down game of the year.

Hands down game of 1983.

Ah, sweet romance.

Here’s a fitting monument to that master of the ring and the rap world, Macho Man.

Also, pony gifs. Lots and lots of pony gifs.

Well, hey, my browser has much less tabs open now. See you tomorrow.

It was a Sunday in which I got little done. I mean, I had fun at a draft with everyone, even though there was a lot of confusion about the timing of it, but after that, it all went downhill. I had to work, but it was a short shift, so I didn’t get paid much. By the time I got home, my earlier fun basically felt really far away and just kind of felt like shit. I tried some gaming, but nothing appealed. I hadn’t seen Brer all day, because he’s been so sick he couldn’t even get out of bed. It’s good he was resting, but I was missing him. Conversations were going on in IRC, which I was trying to follow, but felt left out of for no actually sane reason. I knew then and now I was separated from the conversation simply because I was not joining in. It was getting later and later, and I felt like crap, emotionally more than anything.. I tweeted about it, got some nice support, but I was still alone and fucked up mood-wise.

Then out of nowhere, Ecks came online.

It was seriously like magic. Heh, apparently he had followed my twitter and I didn’t realize it was him. But seriously, just out of nowhere, he swept in, showed up, and distributed hugs liberally. I don’t get to talk to him near often enough, so I was glad to see him, and glad just to have someone there. We talked for awhile. It… it meant a lot.

I say this all the time, but fuck, I mean, what am I supposed to do, lie? I have some of the greatest people ever in my life.

Sure, by the time Ecks had calmed me down, it was like 3 AM, and then Molly decided I needed to get up at 8:30, so I’m kind of exhausted right now, but… well, it turned out pretty good. Pretty good indeed.

While working a floor shift at the Kohl’s, I stumbled upon a MYSTERY.

I was fixing all the bedding sets thrown around, when I saw a Big One bedding set with a playing card stuck to it. Upon closer inspection, it was actually inside the packaging. I opened the package and pulled out the Seven of Clubs. Looking on the back, I found a number scrawled in marker. Here is some evidence.

My initial reaction was that I had accidentally fallen into an adventure game. I talked to Kevin about the card, and he suggested I keep it on the down low, and that I’d probably have to solve the puzzle in order to leave after my shift. Twitter even chimed in with some good advice, but I couldn’t make anything useful.

I searched high and low for more cards all night, but I found nothing, unfortunately. They let me leave without having to solve the puzzle, so I survived in that respect.

Still, I wondered how that card got there. It would have taken effort to open the bedding set and stick that in there as it was. Who would have done it? Why? I then started wondering if I was the only person who would have put such significance on this silly card. Certainly someone else would have found it, shrugged, and thrown it away, but I was sure there was some reason for it. There had to be, right? I mean, 7 of Clubs? 19? Or maybe 61? Why would those just be there?

I tried to envision what would happen if I scattered such cards around local stores. Probably nothing. I doubt it would fill anyone else with a sense of wonder that would distract them for an entire shift. Then again, maybe it would. Maybe it would entertain many retail workers who would try to figure out the mystery. Maybe it would brighten their day a little. Or maybe the puzzle piece I hid would just be trash.

I guess, in the end, it doesn’t matter. I still have the card, and like so many random puzzle pieces I have found in the world, it’s placed in safety in my room, waiting for when I’ll need it to solve the puzzle. I pick up so many things like this, and I doubt I will stop. I’ll always be on the lookout for little objects that connect the world together in interesting ways. Always.

Well, I kind of have to get all my papers graded and final grades turned in today, so, uh, no serious blog post. That’s the excuse I’m using. But don’t worry, I’ve got some links sitting around here somewhere.

I’m sure you’ve already seen it by this point, but you should really watch this Lonely Island video anyway. Still making me laugh.

This video, though less hilarious, still makes me grin. Sometimes this show is pretty great.

So there was this combo video that got me thinking about Bayonetta again. Then I learned that the director had done a let’s play of sorts that was being translated on Platinum Games’ website. It’s really interesting.

Contrary to popular belief, PSN is not down, and I have proof.

Art, made by nanomachines, surely.

This comic is completely factual, and surely will get you pumped for Mass Effect 3’s delay! Or something like that.

If you ever wondered how comics are made, this pulls back the veil.

Anyway, have a good day. More ridiculous blog bullshit tomorrow, surely.

Yesterday I ate at Buffalo Wild Wings. I never really make the place a destination, but I do tend to enjoy going there now and again, simply because of SUPER HINT TRIVIA. However, when we arrived, the worst thing occurred: the Playmakers, the ridiculous little machines with which you play Super Hint Trivia, were broken! I even attempted to download an app that lets you use your iOS device as a Playmaker in order to get in on the trivia, but to no avail. No trivia could be had. This led to a discussion of “Why do people go to Buffalo Wild Wings?” by Essner, and frankly, I agree with his confusion. Why do people go to Buffalo Wild Wings?

Clearly, trivia is not why people go. It’s only why me and my friends go sometimes. The place is apparently a sports bar, and sports games are on televisions, but man, I just don’t even understand that. If you cared enough about the game to want to watch it, wouldn’t you use your television? You could buy some beers or whatever the fuck, and hell, even some wings and make them in your oven, and have a great time at home with your friends or whatever.

Even given the idea that people want to go to an outside place and watch a sporting event, I still don’t know why you’d choose Wild Wings. The food is, honestly, not that great. I’ve always felt like I paid a lot for something I didn’t completely enjoy. Still, I’m not a wing person, but Essner, who is a wing person, backs me up and says the food isn’t all that great on the wing scale. As far as beer goes, I’m obviously not one to know about that, but I would think some place like, I dunno, Applebee’s would have about the same selection of alcohol. It would also have better food, and very likely would have the game on, and you’d spend a comparable amount.

Every night, Buffalo Wild Wings is packed with people. Seeing the trivia-less experience, I must say I am no closer to understanding why. I mean, I’ll go when people want to go and trivia the shit out of things, and I’ll surely enjoy the company, as I am friends with awesome people. I’ll have a good time. It’ll just be in spite of the restaurant, instead of helped by it, I suppose.

There are threads on Talking Time which post random images, art, and whatnot, and I tend to check up on them whenever I’m bored, because they are normally laugh-inducing. There are countless great people on Talking Time with great tastes in such things. Every once and awhile, something less fun gets posted, sure, but it normally is fixed quickly, or scrolled past, and not really a big deal.

Last night, I decided to check the Random Image thread before bed, and I saw a horrific thing.

Now, I have seen some bad stuff on the internet. I mean, I run in furry circles. I like to think I can handle my gross, weird shit. But this picture… just… ugh. I’m sure as fuck not going to link you to it, but it’s apparently an older sort of meme where you take the super creepy mouths of Lampreys and photoshop them onto various body parts. The picture in question was on two fingers of a hand. It looked like those fingers had been frostbitten really badly, or something like that, and then hollowed out crudely with a knife or something. That’s the only attempt I’m going to make at describing it.

It made me physically ill. I felt like a complete wuss, but dammit, there was a bit after that where I really thought I was going to throw up. A link was given in the thread soon after for “context,” but it just led to other similar horrific pictures, and just made me feel worse. I posted about how bleh it made me feel, and then went to bed.

That should have been that, but dammit, that image has been stuck in my head. It keeps popping in here, and making me feel sick all over again. I can’t shake it. My fingertips will feel strange, like something is gnawing through them, and I know it’s because that stupid picture is on my mind and it’s playing tricks on my senses. Time and again, I am hit with flashes of it.

Again, I have seen so many terrible and disturbing pictures over the years. I can’t remember any of them sticking with me like this. Moments of being disturbed, sure, but they didn’t bring the feeling back again and again when my mind wandered to them like this picture does.

Just… fuck. I hope writing about it gets it out of my head once and for all. A silly hope, but dammit. Just… dammit.

Yesterday was a shitty day. There were some non-shitty bits, caused by the awesome people I have in my life, but mostly shitty ones. As I write this, it’s still going similarly. I’m frustrated and tired and unhappy, and I have to write a blog post.

Well then.

For all the crazy-ass stuff I am doing with my life, transitioning at all, I will have to say that I’ve never really felt like a freak. I can pinpoint two moments when I felt this way. The first was when I dressed in front of Natalie for the first time. That went really badly for both of us, and I cried for a long, long while.

Let’s just say the second thing happened today, when I was attempting to do research based on suggestions from my psychologist. I can’t remember a time I have felt more like a fake, a liar, and a failure than when I was looking for fake breasts to wear, and how to determine what kind of buy. The idea that I would be wearing that sort of thing every day, that I’d have to wake up in the morning and deal with that? That crushed me. Seriously crushed me. I’m trying to be myself, not trade one fake persona for another. That’s the whole point I’m spending all this money, and time, and effort. That’s why I am trying so damn hard at this. To be myself. Not some fake person. Me.
I could not imagine something that would make me feel more fake than that.

So I’m mad at the world. I’m mad at my psychologist for making no sense to me and actively putting me down instead of helping me. I’m mad that I’m in this stupid position where I have to prove I can be someone I’m not before they let me be the person I am. I’m mad at waiting. I’m mad at life, and I’m tired to waiting for it to start.

Fuck you, world. Fuck you, life. I’m done with this bullshit. Do you hear me? I am done with this bullshit. I’m me, and you can’t fucking stop me.

Here’s a lesson: if you ever want things to not change, never do mental math.
Basically, a little while ago, I did some mental math at how much I was spending on energy drinks in a month, just because I was wondering. I then went, “Well, shit,” and haven’t bought one since because, dammit, it was a significant amount I was spending on something not that good for me.

Of course, now, I am in the middle of caffeine withdrawal and I am not feeling great! Still, I have extra money to waste on completely different random crap, so that’s nice.

This reminded me of when I quit WoW. All I did was do a mental calculation on how much I had spent on the game and went, “Oh,” and immediately quit. When I got the whole cost laid out before me, it was easy to see that I was keeping myself from enjoying a variety of games at the cost of a game I only played off and on. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying WoW, it was just that the opportunity cost was a bit high when I looked at it overall. Same with these energy drinks, I suppose.

I do wonder why I didn’t try to stop this sooner. It’s really a lot about habit. I got into the habit of buying an energy drink on the way to work every night. Besides feeling a bit sick right now, the worst part of deciding not to get them anymore was having to break my habit. I love habits, and it’s frustrating to break them. Still, it’s probably for the best. It’s just tough, as habits are my little reminders that everything is okay in life, and nothing is going wrong.
I just have to tell myself everything is alright, and nothing is going wrong, instead.

Before the end of the semester, I have to submit a bunch more stories to magazines and stuff as part of my independent study thing. Now, one might think that I would be pumped or at least not really stressed by the idea of doing this, seeing as I just got a short story accepted somewhere and thus am obviously an author worth publishing, in theory. Really, the exact opposite is true. I am dreading it.

I feel like I’m in the unfortunate place of knowing too much, but not having the experience of knowing how to use it. I’ve been on the receiving end of creative submissions at the press. I’ve seen the mistakes and I’ve seen how I react to what people send in that is just not good or really stupidly formatted. I know how important it is to follow guidelines and do things the right way if I want to be taken seriously as a professional. Let’s face it, if there’s one thing I want to feel like when I send this stuff out there, it’s like a professional writer. That’s all one gets out of it. I don’t want to seem like an amateurish dolt, or someone so full of themselves that they are too annoying to publish. I want to do this shit right, if I’m going to do it.

What should be a fairly simple affair of slapping together a cover letter, changing the formatting on a word document, and sending stuff out becomes a really stressful event for me. I pour over the guidelines and quadruple check everything, and even then worry that I’m misunderstanding them. Is this piece right for here? Am I understanding what they want? I recheck the spelling on my cover letter over and over, wanting to make sure it doesn’t sound stupid. I get obsessed that there must be something I’m missing, something that’s going to reflect really poorly on me, and make me come across as someone who is wasting these fine people’s time. I don’t want to be a waste of time. Even if my stories aren’t the right stories for them, I want the whole transaction to be smooth, and fun. But to do that, everything needs to be right. I worry and worry and when I finally send it out it’s like I’m gasping for breath, recovering from terror.

Then I have to search for another magazine to submit to and start the process all over.

Yeah, not looking forward to getting that done. It’ll be good that I did, but goodness. I hope I can keep my worry under control. When it gets out, it really goes ballistic.

I almost wrote “Merry Oviposition Appreciation Day” on the workload planner at work, but realized that was a terrible idea for many different reasons, such as me having to explain what the hell that meant, and so I didn’t. True story.

I am really lame sometimes.

In any case, it’s Easter, a day of bunny rabbits, for some reason, as well as a guy named Jesus. I heard he was a cool dude.

I must admit, though, that Easter has lost most meaning for me. It’s a great reason to rock out to Jesus Christ Superstar, and really, a reason to do that is fantastic, and it’s a great reason to buy a bunch of cheap candy the next week and get one day off of school. As I think I’ve said before, it’s always nice to have a reason to eat a nice meal with the family. But it just… doesn’t have significance.

I wonder if it feels big to people who have more faith in this stuff. It’s supposedly the huge event of the religious year, but it still almost seems like that day is really Christmas, because there’s so much more, socially, around that.

I suppose there’s no reason to really wonder about it. To me, it’ll just be a fairly kickass Sunday, where I will spend time with my family and do some serious viewing of the new Doctor Who premier and, frankly, that’s enough for me. Still, I hope however your Easter goes, that it’s super neat.