My last commenter prodded me to update. All right, then, let's discuss fantasy and reality.
Some people use fantasy -- games, etc -- to escape reality. To avoid reality. I do that at times, just like everyone else does. I did it a lot the last time I played before I divorced.
This time, though, I'm finding my needs are different ones. Oh, there's still a little of the need to escape, sure. But for the most part this time my desire to game springs from different origins. I'm using it to channel creativity and to interact and socialize. But primarily I am using it to create my own reality or extend my own reality.
In other words, I'm using the game to replace the things that I still desire to have in my reality in theory, but have learned don't actually work for me in practice. I can be that woman that is able to be all the things I would like to be if I weren't who I was and give to another all the things that the real me can't give. I write the script and what's more, if I don't like what I wrote, I can walk away without hurting anyone.
I am, though her, the ultimate voyeur to my own life.
(Song: "Sometimes A Fantasy" by Billy Joel. Lyrics here:
http://www.billyjoel.com/music/glass-houses/sometimes-a-fantasy))
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, December 21, 2009
Our House It Has A Crowd
During the time the ex and I were married he worked at a number of manufacturing plants in their accounting departments. He made friends over the years with a few of the other accountants and line managers and kept in touch with them for some years after leaving the jobs where he'd met them.
One of these friends of his popped into my mind today. I don't even know if the two of them stay in touch any longer and it really doesn't matter anyway since it doesn't pertain to this story. What does pertain is that this friend, who is Mexican-American, was the patriarch of a rather large, extended family. His siblings were always falling on hard times and since he was working and making a decent salary he ended up supporting them financially or allowing them to stay in his home for one reason or another. He even ended up raising a few of their children when those hard times became habitual or routine.
Personally, my open-door policy wouldn't have been so open-ended. I'd have allowed for one such trip through, possibly two if in need. Any more than that and it isn't need so much as indicative of a habi. Those sorts of habits usually end up with one or the other of us holding hard feelings. No thanks.
So far in the year that the ex and Yo (who is also half Mexican-American) have been married, her mother and her mother's boyfriend -- and their small dog -- have lived with them three times. Ex is pretty much supporting them, but to be fair, Yo's mom has been doing all the cooking and cleaning and housework for the family. Her boyfriend works, I believe, but only part-time. He does a lot of odd jobs around the house.
Kiddo seems to have adjusted well to having the two of them in the house and, if truth be told, I know she enjoys not having to do much housework or cooking. But when I spoke to her today I heard a puppy yapping in the background and casually mentioned it. Her response was an aggravated one. "We have more people living here now and they have a puppy."
I didn't ask how many or how they belonged to Yo. I didn't have to; I knew they did and that there were at least two of them. That house has three bedrooms (Ex and Yo's, kiddo's, and Yo's son's) and had six people and three dogs living in it BEFORE the however-many-others and their puppy have come to camp out. What is it with packing people in like fleas? Isn't the ex sick of living on top of other people? Is he planning to end up like his friend?
All I can say is I thank all that's holy that I'm not living there now.
Hm. I wonder if kiddo will want to come live with me?
((Song: "Our House" by Madness. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsplanet.com/index.php3?style=lyrics&id=52762 ))
One of these friends of his popped into my mind today. I don't even know if the two of them stay in touch any longer and it really doesn't matter anyway since it doesn't pertain to this story. What does pertain is that this friend, who is Mexican-American, was the patriarch of a rather large, extended family. His siblings were always falling on hard times and since he was working and making a decent salary he ended up supporting them financially or allowing them to stay in his home for one reason or another. He even ended up raising a few of their children when those hard times became habitual or routine.
Personally, my open-door policy wouldn't have been so open-ended. I'd have allowed for one such trip through, possibly two if in need. Any more than that and it isn't need so much as indicative of a habi. Those sorts of habits usually end up with one or the other of us holding hard feelings. No thanks.
So far in the year that the ex and Yo (who is also half Mexican-American) have been married, her mother and her mother's boyfriend -- and their small dog -- have lived with them three times. Ex is pretty much supporting them, but to be fair, Yo's mom has been doing all the cooking and cleaning and housework for the family. Her boyfriend works, I believe, but only part-time. He does a lot of odd jobs around the house.
Kiddo seems to have adjusted well to having the two of them in the house and, if truth be told, I know she enjoys not having to do much housework or cooking. But when I spoke to her today I heard a puppy yapping in the background and casually mentioned it. Her response was an aggravated one. "We have more people living here now and they have a puppy."
I didn't ask how many or how they belonged to Yo. I didn't have to; I knew they did and that there were at least two of them. That house has three bedrooms (Ex and Yo's, kiddo's, and Yo's son's) and had six people and three dogs living in it BEFORE the however-many-others and their puppy have come to camp out. What is it with packing people in like fleas? Isn't the ex sick of living on top of other people? Is he planning to end up like his friend?
All I can say is I thank all that's holy that I'm not living there now.
Hm. I wonder if kiddo will want to come live with me?
((Song: "Our House" by Madness. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsplanet.com/index.php3?style=lyrics&id=52762 ))
Monday, December 14, 2009
It's Been A Long Time....
I've been sorely neglecting this little blog. I've been neglecting a lot of things the last couple weeks because I've been indulging an old habit/hobby of mine -- online gaming. I have tried various avenues for this -- most notably WoW -- but the constant grinding and farming for quests just wasn't able to hold my interest as much as the heavy roleplaying systems based on the Neverwinter Nights game. NWN is much like old school Dungeons & Dragons and that has always been near and dear to my heart.
I quit the game about a year before my divorce for a number of reasons, none of which I feel the need to slog through at this juncture. I've recently picked it back up (mostly because of HD, actually, who began again as well) and I've already found an enjoyment in it that was missing by the end of my last time through. Who says you can't revisit something and find something new when you do?
There's not been a lot to say anyway. Life's been rather placid. About the only thing of any consequence has been my continued correspondence with Grey. He told me once just about a week ago that I knew how much he cared about me. I told him then that sometimes I didn't, but thinking about it now? Why, yes. Yes, I do.
((Song: "Wait" by the Beatles. Lyrics here: http://lyrics.wikia.com/The_Beatles:Wait))
I quit the game about a year before my divorce for a number of reasons, none of which I feel the need to slog through at this juncture. I've recently picked it back up (mostly because of HD, actually, who began again as well) and I've already found an enjoyment in it that was missing by the end of my last time through. Who says you can't revisit something and find something new when you do?
There's not been a lot to say anyway. Life's been rather placid. About the only thing of any consequence has been my continued correspondence with Grey. He told me once just about a week ago that I knew how much he cared about me. I told him then that sometimes I didn't, but thinking about it now? Why, yes. Yes, I do.
((Song: "Wait" by the Beatles. Lyrics here: http://lyrics.wikia.com/The_Beatles:Wait))
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Must Have Used The Wrong Line
Filed in the "just when you think you've seen everything" file....
I have an imaginary point system when it comes to men and I'd wager most women (and men!) do too. Like most people, I have automatic deductions and additions that I apply. Do you smoke? Sorry, no. Are you really listening to me? Score! Look like you haven't bathed in a while? Bzzzzzz, move along. Are you into me without being disrespectful or lewd? Dingdingding! Wear your jeans too tight and under your gut and your hair too 'business in the front and party in the back'? See ya!
Some of my rules are obvious ones and others deeply personal. I don't have a lot of rules, but the ones that I do have are hard and fast. Otherwise, I think I'm pretty fair. I start a man out at the base point of zero, and then I let the chips fall where they may. It usually doesn't take long for the guy to provide me with reasons to add or subtract. Experience has taught me that it's generally a pretty good system.
My good friend Harl's mother passed away this past weekend. I took off work for a few hours this afternoon to attend her memorial service. After the service we all went to the church's dining room to eat lunch and I was seated across from Harl and her husband.
Soon a man with curly, probably dyed surfer-blond hair and who looked to be in his mid-50's sat down in the chair to my left. He took one obvious and appraising look at me and said, "Who are you?"
Before I had the chance to respond to what I hadn't decided was either a direct or a downright rude inquiry, Harl's husband told him that I was Harl's friend from high school. He then introduced the man to me as Harl's uncle, her mother's brother. Ahhhh. I dismissed the rudeness/directness issue immediately, taking into account that the service had been rough on all Harl's family members. I introduced myself by name and he responded in kind. I gave my condolences and we made small talk while we settled down to eat.
Imagine my surprise when not even a minute had passed before I had to whip out my internal slide rule.
Let's see......he tried to impress me with his Harley (-5), he placed his phone down on the table between us and let me know I needed to call my number on it (-5), and he told me to walk slower the next time I went back to the buffet so he could enjoy the view (-10). All those, while horrible attempts at pickup lines, were at least amusing so I comped him (+5). But oh, he wasn't done. Ten minutes into his sell he asked my name again (-5.) And finally, he capped it off by telling me he wasn't into relationships (which actually upped him +5!) but he lost those points in nothing flat by saying it was because he preferred to love 'em and leave 'em.
I had to respond to that last comment. "Not really selling yourself here," I told him dryly. That made Harl laugh out loud. He tried to explain it away by saying he'd given me a bonus because instead of finding out he was an ass after he kissed up to me for months, he was being honest and making me aware that he was an ass upfront. I had to score him a few points for a quick recovery (+5) but it still didn't make up for the whole impending ass-ness possibility (-20.)
All in all, he didn't do well at all, checking in at -35. Even at that score he was in my Oh-Hell-No category. But trying to pick up a chick at his sister's memorial service?
Insta-FAIL!
((Song: "Right Place Wrong Time" by Dr. John. Lyrics here:
http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/sahara/rightplacewrongtime.htm))
I have an imaginary point system when it comes to men and I'd wager most women (and men!) do too. Like most people, I have automatic deductions and additions that I apply. Do you smoke? Sorry, no. Are you really listening to me? Score! Look like you haven't bathed in a while? Bzzzzzz, move along. Are you into me without being disrespectful or lewd? Dingdingding! Wear your jeans too tight and under your gut and your hair too 'business in the front and party in the back'? See ya!
Some of my rules are obvious ones and others deeply personal. I don't have a lot of rules, but the ones that I do have are hard and fast. Otherwise, I think I'm pretty fair. I start a man out at the base point of zero, and then I let the chips fall where they may. It usually doesn't take long for the guy to provide me with reasons to add or subtract. Experience has taught me that it's generally a pretty good system.
My good friend Harl's mother passed away this past weekend. I took off work for a few hours this afternoon to attend her memorial service. After the service we all went to the church's dining room to eat lunch and I was seated across from Harl and her husband.
Soon a man with curly, probably dyed surfer-blond hair and who looked to be in his mid-50's sat down in the chair to my left. He took one obvious and appraising look at me and said, "Who are you?"
Before I had the chance to respond to what I hadn't decided was either a direct or a downright rude inquiry, Harl's husband told him that I was Harl's friend from high school. He then introduced the man to me as Harl's uncle, her mother's brother. Ahhhh. I dismissed the rudeness/directness issue immediately, taking into account that the service had been rough on all Harl's family members. I introduced myself by name and he responded in kind. I gave my condolences and we made small talk while we settled down to eat.
Imagine my surprise when not even a minute had passed before I had to whip out my internal slide rule.
Let's see......he tried to impress me with his Harley (-5), he placed his phone down on the table between us and let me know I needed to call my number on it (-5), and he told me to walk slower the next time I went back to the buffet so he could enjoy the view (-10). All those, while horrible attempts at pickup lines, were at least amusing so I comped him (+5). But oh, he wasn't done. Ten minutes into his sell he asked my name again (-5.) And finally, he capped it off by telling me he wasn't into relationships (which actually upped him +5!) but he lost those points in nothing flat by saying it was because he preferred to love 'em and leave 'em.
I had to respond to that last comment. "Not really selling yourself here," I told him dryly. That made Harl laugh out loud. He tried to explain it away by saying he'd given me a bonus because instead of finding out he was an ass after he kissed up to me for months, he was being honest and making me aware that he was an ass upfront. I had to score him a few points for a quick recovery (+5) but it still didn't make up for the whole impending ass-ness possibility (-20.)
All in all, he didn't do well at all, checking in at -35. Even at that score he was in my Oh-Hell-No category. But trying to pick up a chick at his sister's memorial service?
Insta-FAIL!
((Song: "Right Place Wrong Time" by Dr. John. Lyrics here:
http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/sahara/rightplacewrongtime.htm))
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Way Back In The Hills....
Listening to bluegrass makes me feel like a child again; it stirs up a deep sense of nostalgia that other genres of music don't manage to do for me on a consistent basis. Disco makes me feel like dancing, the blues bring me down, jazz makes me feel mellow or cool, and rock? Rock is harder for me to narrow down because it inspires many different feelings in me depending on the lyrics and tone of the song. But bluegrass is easy to define.
If you knew me, you wouldn't peg me for a bluegrass fan. As a general rule my preference in music, whatever the genre, is lyrics-based. I listen primarily to the words first and consider songs as poems set to music. I'm not a fan of the hick mentality, and I certainly don't cotton to Christian music. Bluegrass is at its heart everything that I don't like and yet, it calls to me. The ex used to tease me about it because it was so incongruous to my ethos. Much bluegrass music is at the very least gospel-tinged if not seriously religious. I know that, but I can't explain it -- when I listen to bluegrass the religious aspects of the genre don't make much of an impression on me. I don't even really hear it because it feels so 'right' springing from this 'from the dirt' style of music. Something about the banjos, the mandolins, the picking of the guitars and the harmony of voices blending lend themselves to singing about the divine anyway. It's rugged and markedly individualistic even as it conjures up friends and family, love, and a place to hang your hat. It's a basic form of song from the heart and soul. Uplifting even when it's sad or lonely. It makes me sit and tap my toes and smile. It makes me ache for the Midwest of my youth and the times I sang along with my dad when he played his guitar. It makes me remember.
I'm not a fan of today's alt-country at all but I enjoy much of the old steel guitar stuff. Whatever the genre I like authenticity and for me, when it comes to country it doesn't feel authentic if it's borrowing from other genres. If you're going to be country, be country. Embrace it, invest in it, play it like it comes off the back of a hay wagon with three or four boys picking guitars and fiddling. Country has lost much of that, dipping its toes in the blues and slowing it down or diving into the rock waters and speeding it up. In bluegrass, that back in the hills feeling remains.
I don't think I've ever featured a song on my blog but there's a first time for everything. I should probably do it more often. I don't have the lyrics for this one so you'll just have to listen to it right here. It's Paul and Pap Wilson singing "Way Back In The Hills," a song written by Bob Amos and performed originally by Front Range. Enjoy!
If you knew me, you wouldn't peg me for a bluegrass fan. As a general rule my preference in music, whatever the genre, is lyrics-based. I listen primarily to the words first and consider songs as poems set to music. I'm not a fan of the hick mentality, and I certainly don't cotton to Christian music. Bluegrass is at its heart everything that I don't like and yet, it calls to me. The ex used to tease me about it because it was so incongruous to my ethos. Much bluegrass music is at the very least gospel-tinged if not seriously religious. I know that, but I can't explain it -- when I listen to bluegrass the religious aspects of the genre don't make much of an impression on me. I don't even really hear it because it feels so 'right' springing from this 'from the dirt' style of music. Something about the banjos, the mandolins, the picking of the guitars and the harmony of voices blending lend themselves to singing about the divine anyway. It's rugged and markedly individualistic even as it conjures up friends and family, love, and a place to hang your hat. It's a basic form of song from the heart and soul. Uplifting even when it's sad or lonely. It makes me sit and tap my toes and smile. It makes me ache for the Midwest of my youth and the times I sang along with my dad when he played his guitar. It makes me remember.
I'm not a fan of today's alt-country at all but I enjoy much of the old steel guitar stuff. Whatever the genre I like authenticity and for me, when it comes to country it doesn't feel authentic if it's borrowing from other genres. If you're going to be country, be country. Embrace it, invest in it, play it like it comes off the back of a hay wagon with three or four boys picking guitars and fiddling. Country has lost much of that, dipping its toes in the blues and slowing it down or diving into the rock waters and speeding it up. In bluegrass, that back in the hills feeling remains.
I don't think I've ever featured a song on my blog but there's a first time for everything. I should probably do it more often. I don't have the lyrics for this one so you'll just have to listen to it right here. It's Paul and Pap Wilson singing "Way Back In The Hills," a song written by Bob Amos and performed originally by Front Range. Enjoy!
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