The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

Back in the crazy days of Christmas, I got Shauna a copy of Mystery Express. She’s a huge Clue fanatic, and I figured a more complex version of Clue might be up her alley, or at least might be something that we all would enjoy playing together, so she could be included. Unfortunately, we never got around to playing it until Sunday, but hey, we finally did, and it was pretty neat.

The main difference between Mystery Express and Clue is that there are more than one copy of each card. Figuring out who did it and so on requires you to figure out which card there is only one of in circulation, instead of which card is missing. This means just because someone shows you a card doesn’t mean you can rule that out. You really have to attempt to pay attention to where all the cards are moving between players and figure out if that card you saw was the same one you saw last turn, or a different copy. It makes things much more complicated! It also means you need to take way, way better notes than you ever do in Clue. You need to keep track of things, and it’s not easy.

The cards get shuffled around by the various activities in the train, which each player activates by spending time on them. There’s one that makes everyone but the player who started it reveal a card to everyone, there’s ones where you swap cards with other players, there’s ones where you force players to all show you a different type of card, and so on. Of course, the super best one is to brown bag it, where a player hides an incredibly intricate luggage piece in one of their hands, and you have to pick which one it is in. If you win, you get to steal one of their cards at random. If you lose, you lose time. (That’s not actually the best one. It’s the most silly one.) The conductor is also in various places on the train, and if you do an activity associated with those places, then you can also trade a card from your hand with one that the conductor has in his “hand” on the board.

Really, the most crazy part is determining the “time” of the murder. The time cards aren’t like other cards, and during set points in the game, you flip through this deck of time cards (which have three of each time, except the correct time, which has two, unlike the other categories) and attempt to remember. These cards are hard to read: they’re analog clocks with no numbers on them, and the person dealing gets to choose how fast or slow the cards are flipped through, meaning if they’ve figured out the time, or don’t give a fuck, they can screw everyone else over and just flip super fast. I thought this part would be horrible, but it’s actually not THAT bad. You just really have to pay attention.

Honestly, that’s what I like about this game. You really, really have to pay attention. Clue, in a lot of ways, works on autopilot. You cross things off when you see them, and you make sure you show the cards you’ve already shown to everyone else to limit the information they have. Since Mystery Express has a discard pile, where once you’ve shown a card in a turn, you can’t show it again, you really can get lots of information out of people if you pay attention, remember what cards you’ve seen from them and what they likely got in a trade, and take good notes about where cards are. Of course, if you don’t, you’re completely lost. But it adds much more strategy and thinking to the game, which I really appreciate.

Shauna, of course, won our game, because she is the master of Clue. I thought it was going to come down to the tiebreakers, which are guesses everyone fills out before the final turn, but no, she just flat-out won. I thought I was in a much better position than I was, but I ended up guessing on a few things based on what I had seen the least. Seemed safe, and it got me the Modus Operandi, but it did not work for the location, which was one card I had seen a million times, but had been the same card flashed at me over and over again.

The remaining questions are those of theming. Why, for example, is one of the possible motives “Unknown”? You really couldn’t think up another motive? I guess that’s true because “Greed” and “Money” are separate motives as well. Spend some more time brainstorming these things! Also, passengers getting on the train after the murder happens have clues. Where did this murder actually occur then? Was it really on the train at all? This is the other great Mystery of Mystery Express.

Seriously, though. If you like Clue, I would recommend the game. It’s solid, and requires more actual detective work in your thinking.

I don’t do these very often anymore, but it’s the fourth of July and I kind of want to talk about it, so, you know. Let’s talk about the Operation Patriot Shield.

I’m rather enjoying it.

Normally I enjoy items that give me more content or jokes or entertain me or something of that nature. I’m not normally one for an item which such a pure benefit to stats and whatnot, but man, there’s just no hiding the fact that this shield is the Bee’s Knees. (I should be scared of those knees, since I’m still in Bees Hate You.) It just completely smooths gameplay. The shield throw is so useful you’re going to use it every fight, and it’ll always be useful in said fight. A one-turn stun, which might let a familiar get a free action, followed by a free crit is amazingly useful for taking on enemies you may not be able to handle otherwise. I’ve been equipping it with my Haiku Katana, so now I have two assured crits a fight, if I want them. This has been a lifesaver in Bees Hate You, as I’m now on the battlefield, where I have to lose tons of HP to Bee attacks every fight, and this assures I can still kill people.

I’m also just surprised that the simplicity of “different enchantments per class” hasn’t been used before. Most of them seem fairly useful for the class, too! Though I would probably want the Clubber’s enchantments when a Turtle Tamer, and the Disco Bandit’s when I’m an Accordion Thief. Then again, I suppose it gives me a reason to use Sing, so that might be worthwhile anyway. Either way, the class enchantments are all useful, and lend it a bit of variety, though the main use of +stats and the stun sticks around either way, so, you know, it’s only for a bit of flavor, I suppose.

Seriously, though, this reminds me of how excited I was about the stupid Pokemann Band-Aids that my pen pal keeps sending me. I started saying “fuck it” and using them, and having all that constant healing really picked my game up and made it more fun for me. It let me keep going, as these days I tend to just stop playing once I run out of VIP hot tub uses. Heh. I play the game out of habit, nostalgia, and wanting to keep up with the new stuff. I’m far, far beyond playing it for any level of challenge. This shield makes the game fun and easy, which I appreciate more and more. I’m never going to turn down more content, but I think that this is a pretty solid item. It’s certainly better than the Pilgrim Shield, which I guess this is supposed to be a replacement for. Well, I think it’s better. Shield throw. Fuck yeah.

I got in the breastforms I ordered.

Now, when I was initially doing research for these, I got so depressed and angry. I even wrote this post. I just knew they were going to make me feel like a freak, like a fake, and generally make me feel worse. Still, I ordered them, so I’d have the option if I needed it. Then they came in, and I put them on.

Fuck, was I wrong.

I could look at myself in the mirror. I can never look in the mirror. My body looked right for once. It was real close. I was still a bit of a mess, because I just kind of am in general, but I looked like me. I looked like me.

They basically made me feel so good that, the next morning, as I was waiting about the house and wearing them, I didn’t want to take them off. But I was going out, so I should, right? I mean, surely I should.

It was then I remembered Avandra. She always says that “Fortune favors the bold.” She’s right. If I don’t go for it, I’ll never get it.

So, you know, I left wearing them, did all my stuff, came home. Later, I went to work wearing them. Fuck it, why not, right? Fortune favors the bold. Today, everyone invited me out to lunch, and while I gave them all warning, I wore them. Fuck it. I went shopping, I filled my prescription, I was wearing them.

I’m still getting sir’d instead of ma’am’d, but I’m wearing really androgynous clothing, so I’m not too surprised. More important, though, I don’t feel like a freak walking around. I feel like me.

Today, I finally filled my prescription. I’m on hormones. Things are happening. Things are getting better. I am more me than I ever have been, and fuck, it feels good. I am gentle, but bold, as my current title on Talking Time says. I am making shit happen. Hi world, I’m Alexis Long, and I am here.

I’m here.

I’m going to see Ok Go in concert on the 4th, apparently! So I thought I should listen to their newest album, because I still haven’t.

I was kind of disappointed.

It really seemed like they were going back to what they did with their first, self-titled album. Which is cool, I suppose, but I also don’t like most of that album. Oh No was filled with tons of seriously ROKKIN’ tracks, and Of The Blue Colour Of The Sky just doesn’t have a lot of those.

Except White Knuckles, which I have listened to constantly. (For the record, I also like WTF?)

Not only is it just an exciting piece of music (with a cute as shit music video) but the lyrics also just seems to really fit my current situation. I mean, check this shit out.

“And you can’t go back, the way you came. Round all the pieces up, but they just don’t fit the same. White knuckles. Maybe it’s not so bad.”
“So just have fun, it’s far enough. Everybody needs to sleep at night, everybody needs a crutch. But couldn’t good, be good enough? Cause nothin’ ever doesn’t change but nothin’ changes much.”

I don’t know. I like a good rocking song, but lyrics? I’m a fucking poet. Lyrics speak to me. This may not be the super-deepest song in the world, but when I’m trying to both turn my world upside down and not lose anything from how my life was before? Well, this kind of shit is important to keep in mind. Nothing ever doesn’t change, but nothing changes much. Quite a nice little line.

Anyway, I’ll just listen to White Knuckles a few hundred more times. You all have a fun day.

I’ve got eggs in a basket.

I feel like, in a lot of ways, I am being pulled two ways. On one hand, I should be prepared. I should move forward and continue my life in a smart, intelligent manner. A lot of that should involve casting a wide net. Reaching out. Making sure things fall into place appropriately. I should be searching to find my own way, you know? Self-reliance, all that shit.

I don’t really want that, though.

Most of what I want involves other people, and involves other people falling into place and following along with the plan. Mostly Brer, yes, but many other friends and family too. Places of employment. All that shit. All of it needs to fall into place and occur. This is what I want.

Recently, I’ve had so much shit happen because of depending on other people. Assuming other people will do simple shit like picking up letters when they are sent them, and so on, and so forth. There’s a terror I have learned in waiting for someone to do something so important to you. The month (oh fucking gods, it was a month) of waiting for Dr. Friedman to write less than a page of text was terrifying. There was nothing I could do to speed the process up. I was powerless. My life was in her hands. It sucked.

But okay, so, I’ve always been a trusting individual, you know? I look for the best in people, because people deserve the best from me. People are awesome, and deserve respect. Unless it’s clear they don’t want my respect, I give it. I trust. But as I get older, the stuff being risked keeps increasing in scope, and I keep having to trust “professionals” to get my shit done. Sometimes this works out, and sometimes it does not. It’s slowly becoming more and more terrifying, to be sure.

In any case, I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I’m banking my future on trusting people. I’m setting myself up for potential failure where, if I just pulled myself inside myself and bunkered down, I wouldn’t have to risk anything. I’m sure I could spin a life together that mitigated risk quite completely. But that’s not what I want. I want family, and romance, and the life I want. That life involves people.

Maybe I’m too nice. Maybe you have to fight for what you want and make people bleed in order to be happy. Maybe you have to rip and tear. Maybe being polite and friendly and dependable and professional aren’t the ways to get what you want out of life. Maybe it needs something else. Mistakes get made unless you accept no mistakes, right? Something like that?

Something like that.

I am doing a really bad job at saying I’m worried that I’m getting too attached to my get this bit of employment, get Brer here in December, move out and turn my life into the life I want plan. But I don’t know how to work towards that plan without getting attached to it. I don’t know how to move the plan forward without investing in it. If I didn’t invest in it, why would I be doing it? You know?

This is probably the kind of thoughts people have every day, don’t they? I am probably so boring. I want to be boring. I want the house and the dominant husband and the pet submissive wife and some pets and some video games and a job I can go to every day and come home and have that be enough.
So much of that is people, though.
Gotta depend on people.

I’ve been thinking about why I write all this stuff on here. Ever since I linked it up to my twitter, way more people I care about have been reading my blog. Which is fine, and totally cool. Cool on you for actually taking an interest in my stupidity, person reading this. Yet for the past two days, things of depression have been the norm, and man, as much as I super-appreciate everyone who sent kind words of support (Again, you’re all much too nice to me. Thank you.) I don’t want to be a person who’s all whine whine for attention. Is that what I’m coming off as? I don’t know.

Anyway, all that going around in my head, I’ve been reading tons of manifestos on how education should be for a class, and I had the idea of writing down what the purpose of this blog is. So that’s what this is. Here we go.

1. This blog is me.
This website has been my internet home forever and ever. It’s where I’ve done stuff, and it’s got a place in my heart for that. I mean, come on: I own poetfox.com, and yet I still use this silly name. I love it. It’s always been my home on the internet, and as far as I’m concerned, will continue to be. It’s personal. As such, I’m just writing about what interests me, or has some relationship to me. I’m hoping people can read it, and enjoy it, but it’s very me-focused writing. It’s not going to be the sort of thing I shop around to put into magazines or something, and that’s fine. It’s just me. Here I am.

2. This blog is a diary.
Way back, when I started blogging first on OpenDiary, it was to write about my emotions. I bottled things up too much. I wouldn’t let myself feel depressed or angry or anything, because I “shouldn’t feel that way,” and then later it would all explode and I’d fall apart. So I started writing about it, as an outlet. Eventually I started throwing in little story snippets and all sorts of shit. Then I bought this domain, and after a brief time of it being something all my friends wrote stupid shit for, I just kind of took it over, and moved what I was doing on OpenDiary to here. It’s still that sort of stuff, even today. That’s why there are things like all those depressed angry rants. It’s always going to be a diary. I suppose that’s the nice thing about me posting daily, though. If it’s some moody bullshit you don’t want to read, just come back tomorrow. Not like I’ll mind in the least. Plus, I find it fascinating to do research through my old blogs. “I really thought that?” It’s amazing, at least for me.

3. This blog is a writing exercise and confidence-builder.
The moment I realized I could schedule posts, I started writing here every day, as an exercise to keep me writing something daily. I don’t claim what I write here is high art, or impressive journalism, or anything. It’s a diary, after all. But it keeps me writing, like a writer. I do some writing every day. At this point, that’s important to me. I fell asleep without blogging a few weeks ago, and when I woke up, I freaked out. It’s part of what makes me feel useful and part of the world. Even if all I put up is a bunch of links, I’ve accomplished something. I’ve kept the biggest project I ever undertook going. I plan to continue to do that for as long as I’m around to do it.

I guess that’s why I do this thing. So, you know, expect all that! I try to keep these categories working so you can only see my recent game posts and shit if you’re into that. The “reviews” are the more “things other people might want to browse” of what I write, though they’re still really personal and subjective, so, you know. But yeah. Blogs. Blogtastic Blogfest. This is what I’m doing. It continues on.

Here’s my mood right now. In, you know, a progressive mixtape of songs linked on youtube. If you listen through it all, let me know. That’s cool of you. If not, well, no worries. Hopefully my mood will not be shit tomorrow, and I’ll write something.

Alternia from Homestuck’s AlterniaBound soundtrack

Hopeless Bleak Despair by They Might Be Giants

Failure by My Robot Friend

Un Dia by Juana Molina

Want It All Back from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack

Grace and Glory from the Jet Set Radio soundtrack

Advice [FLCL Arrange Version] by The Pillows

Skies of Skaia from Homestuck Vol. 1

Three Minutes Clapping from The World Ends With You

Up to the Roof by Blue Man Group

It’s Getting Better (Man!!) by Oasis

When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonade by The Boy Least Likely To

Fear (Rez Version) by Adam Freeland

Killed by BR8K Spider!!!!!!!! from Homestuck’s AlterniaBound soundtrack

(I wrote this while I was really raging. Really angry and depressed. I left a bunch of really angry tweets and stuff in my wake. I’m still angry about it, to some extent, but have mostly chilled. Still, here it is, uncensored. I can’t bring myself to write something more entertaining and I’m just… yeah. Seriously, though, thanks to everyone who extended support on twitter and otherwise about this bullshit. It’s more than I deserve, really.)

Today I was supposed to start hormones!

Man, did that get fucked up!

I call to make sure they’ve received the letter to let me do this stuff today, just to be thorough. Turns out, no, they have no idea where it is. Nobody has it. It’s gone. I can’t have the appointment if I don’t have the letter. There’s a slim chance I could get a copy of the letter from Dr. Friedman before the appointment, but it’s very unlikely, as the appointment is before she’s actually up. I don’t have a copy myself. They lost the one I got in the mail. I had to cancel because otherwise they would charge me for the appointment anyway. Soonest I could get in again was next week.

Another week! Another week gone. Another 7 days of my life where I don’t get to be myself. Another 168 hours of not having what I’ve been wanting and working towards my whole lifetime. Just another fucking disappointment. Another fucking delay.

Seriously, at what point do you just give up? When have you been fucked around and jerked around enough? When do you just give up on life when life won’t give you a fucking break? I mean, what’s going to happen next week? Car break down? They lose the letter AGAIN? Won’t accept the copy I bring them? When does it end?

It doesn’t end. It never ends. Being yourself is a failing prospect in the world. Depending on another person for anything as simple as taking a fucking letter out of the mail is impossible, as it will never amount to anything. No amount of effort on creating yourself will ever be worth anything. No amount of hopes and dreams will ever come true. This is a world where you aren’t free to decide any fucking thing about what you do, where you go, or who you are, and if you dare to deviate, dare to hope that, at some point, life might work out and be something positive, well, you are fucking wrong.

Years ago now, I pulled myself out of depression. I pulled myself up, and I decided that I could do this. I could make things better in my life. I could be myself. I tried. I tried to do everything the way I was supposed to. I was patient. I was nice. I didn’t push anyone.

When do you let yourself be pushed around enough for being nice? When do you say that enough is enough, and bullshit is bullshit, and fuck you and how you’re keeping me down? When does that happen? When the fuck does that happen? At what point is “Well, it’s not that big a setback” no longer acceptable? At what point is “In the big scheme of things, this is nothing,” no longer alright?

I am telling you, that point is right now. It’s no longer alright. It’s no longer fucking alright. Everyone holding my life hostage can fuck off, get their shit together, or enjoy my fist slamming into their face.
Fuck.
I give up.

I made a sticky note on my desktop that says “List of Blog Post Ideas” that I keep adding to, but every time I sit down to write something I never want to write about anything on that list.
So let’s not.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Homestuck lately. I still read it, and I still enjoy it, but it’s really kind of lost me as being extremely dedicated to it. I no longer debate what’s going to happen, what the meaning of this or that is, and so on. It just doesn’t do that for me anymore. I wrote a forum post about why that is here, I suppose. Still, if nothing else, I still really love many of the musical albums. I still listen to The Felt fairly often, and newer tracks like this one, or this one, or this one are really fantastic. (Okay, maybe not the last one.)

While I have still not played a single game, my brain continues to make me drawn to Furoticon, the furry porn card game, just because, seriously, what the fuck? They’re coming out with a new set, Second Vanilla, but I’m really frustrated they aren’t making new preconstructs, because the new art looks super-pretty and they’re doing these in-character blog posts for characters on the new cards and I want to check it out! But I’m not buying individual boosters and being all luck of the draw with it. That’s really kind of silly for a game I’m not actually going to play. Still, I’m still just amazed that not only is the game still going, but they’re managing to get some pretty awesome and famous in the fandom artists on board for card art.
Eh, who am I kidding? I’ll probably go weak at some point and order some boosters.

So the Youtube App on my iPad has gone to shit, and I really don’t know why. It can no longer play a simple Youtube video. It keeps stopping in the middle, and every time it does, it loses what buffer it had. Stops constantly. Like every minute. I really want to just watch stupid let’s plays in bed, but it won’t. I mean, it plays Giant Bomb quicklooks just fine. Why it can’t play a Youtube video in an app specifically designed to play a Youtube video is beyond me, and really frustrating. You didn’t used to be so stupid! Get better so I can watch my stupid Let’s Plays!

Really, though, a lot of my time has been spent being worried as fuck about my trip to visit Brer. I’m getting all wrapped up and nervous about making a decent impression. I worry about what his parents will think about me. I worry about interacting with his sister. I worry about being a horrible-looking motherfucker and if that will fuck our long, loving relationship up. I just worry about it. It’s a lot of worry. It’s my current biggest worry.

What else has happened to me? Well, I took a test to graduate. I bought a ton of clothes. I freaked out and was depressed. I finally got my letter and scheduled my fucking appointment for Hormones, so that’s happening Wednesday. I did some homework. I played a ton of Pocket Frogs, but I’ve already talked about that. It’s just my life, I suppose. It continues.
It keeps going, whether I want it to or not. Whether I feel like shit, or mostly okay.
It keeps on going. Hopefully for the better.

I’ve been trying to figure out clothes. One thinks “Oh, clothes are easy, you just wear fabric to cover up your naughty bits” but it is so much more stupid and complex than that. Especially in my hands, where I’m trying to master clothes of a type I am not familiar with while I deal with lots of conflicting urges. I need to look more feminine, but I also want to just be myself, and I’m a kind of masculine lady-person. I’d rather just wear the shit I have been wearing, but it would be useful to make a clear “shift” to help shift everyone’s perceptions. So I’m trying to find a middle ground, which is really the worst thing I could do. I’m not settling for looking alright. I have to be happy with it, and I have a fucking odd sense of fashion. It probably doesn’t look like it, but I’m really kind of super-picky when it comes to clothing. There’s also a partial problem that a lot of things I want to wear are things from my youth I was jealous about and wanted, and now I can have, but they simply don’t exist anymore. That is also frustrating. Things are frustrating!

Anyway, the point of that last paragraph is that I am stupid, clothing-wise. As I do my research and try to figure this shit out, I have two stupid rants that I would like to address to designers of women’s clothing in general. So if you meet any, make them read this blog post or something.

1. Have Real Pockets, You Assholes.
I look at clothing for women, even things that should have pockets, like pants, and they don’t have pockets. Sure, many of them have “pockets,” but they can only fit, I dunno, a tissue or a single dollar bill in them. They don’t count as pockets. They are stupid and useless. Who thought this was a good idea? I mean, it’s one thing to buy a garment without a pocket. That’s cool, you want to look a certain way, I get it. But to pretend to have a pocket, but not have that functionality is just stupid.
Now, I have heard the argument, “That is why you have a purse!” This is a semi-valid point, but there is one thing that I will never keep in my purse, and that is my cellular telephone. My cell phone is an object I need constant, quick access to, or the cell phone because significantly, significantly less useful. My mom never answers her phone. Know why? Because it’s in her purse, and she can’t get to it. I’m not going to be that person. Another person I am not going to be is someone whose phone actually makes noise. Fuck those people. Phones should always be on vibrate, and I can’t do that unless the phone is in my pocket.
Similarly, I listen to my iPod, oh, basically all the time. Having my iPod in my purse with the headphones coming out of it seems similarly frustrating from a usability standpoint. It also seems like it would look incredibly stupid.
At the very least, a bottom-half garment needs pockets that can at least hold a cell phone or iPod of a decent size. That’s just how the world works nowadays. My current research has discovered that pants with the keyword “comfortable” on the tag have decent pockets, so I am looking into that. Still, it’s just ridiculous that it’s hard to find a garment that serves such a simple function well. I’m not about to say that fashion shouldn’t be about fashion. That’s just fine. People who aren’t me can dress up as awesome as they’d like, and if they enjoy themselves, I am all for it. Me, I just want to be able to answer texts on my phone and listen to my iPod on a day to day basis, for fuck’s sake. The majority of stuff out there doesn’t seem to want me to do that, though.

2. Why Can’t Clothing Go All The Way Down?
Another thing I’ve noticed is that clothing for women cuts off far above the ankle. You can’t get a skirt that goes all the way down, and seriously something like 90% of the clothing in Kohl’s at the moment is a capri of some sort. I just don’t understand this. That just seems like it would bother the shit out of me. I’m not getting the benefits of wearing a full pair of pants or whatever, or shorts, which I don’t want to wear. Of course, the unavailability of shorts that aren’t essentially underwear is a completely different problem, and honestly, likely a reason why capris are so popular. But why not just make shorts that aren’t stupidly short? That’s a way better and less ridiculous solution.
While I will fight to the death about the fact that people, not just men, need actual pockets, this is something that is clearly a personal preference of mine. I mean, I think anyone who wears those socks that only go up below your ankles is insane, because that would drive me mad, but people really like those, so, you know. But still, there’s really a lack of other options.

I’m sure I’ll get super frustrated more in the future as I move on into this scary new world I am scarily moving into. But hey, at least I have a blog today, hm?