I Mean You (Candy) Crush Me

I used to be a video gamer,back in the nineties. Since I didn't have anything to do, I would sometimes spend all day playing.  Although, I discovered that if I played too long or too late, my mind would get a little weird.  I once played well past midnight, and I believe I discovered a level to a game that I was never able to find again.  I cut back my playing time, somewhat.  Once I opened my store, my game time was limited to weekends mostly, as well as the occasional Gameboy session at the store.  I only worked five days a week, back then, so my weekends were clear.  However, around 2005, I had to start going in on Saturdays.  I had to push so much stuff into Sunday that I had to start seriously cutting back my game playing.  Ultimately, I mostly gave it up.  I even stopped playing at the store because it was unprofessional (not to mention that it was difficult to save whenever a potential customer came in).  I even stopped keeping up with the new games and systems that were coming out.  Then, a few years ago, a was waiting to be picked up at the library after an oil change that turned into something much more serious (strangely enough, that happens quite often to me), I ran out of things to do online and decided to look for games.  I tried out a few, none of them big names, but it started to get me into the habit again.  On another such outing, a finally found Bejeweled.  I had heard about it for awhile, but in had taken me some time to try it.  I loved it.  I would play it whenever I had extra time.  I would sometimes try other games, usually other three-in-a-row variants or the occasional 9-ball sim.  Then, last year, I finally joined Facebook.  After a few months, I got friends and started playing more games on it.  The only real problem here is that I have trouble meeting up with said friends to play, as my schedule isn't as free as theirs it seems.  Still, I have been exploring a few new types.  After seeing ads for weeks for the television game show version, I finally tried out Candy Crush a few weeks ago.  While it has a few  tweaks over Bejeweled, I still prefer it over Crush.  Yes, the latter might have an actual story and better upgrades, Bejeweled is still the original, in my view anyway, for this type of game.  I am not sure why I favor gems over candy pieces, but maybe it is just because I played it first.  I have almost always preferred the first version of something over updates or variants that I find later.  Not always, but frequently.  I do change my mind as well.  What I don't get is why contestants have to dangle from the ceiling to play?  Couldn't the producers find a better, safer way to do this?  It just doesn't make sense to me.  I might watch the first episode or so, just to see it.  I am game for almost anything after all.

When You're Right, You Write

I first got the inkling to become a professional writer in the seventh grade, although I didn't really decide upon it until my senior year, when I took journalism and became the editor of the school paper.  In previous posts, I mentioned my troubles getting into a college with a journalism program or school paper, as well as the difficulties I had trying to get a job as a reporter.  I wanted a steady job before turning to writing, just in case I had problems.  I later would learn that many professional writers actually got their start in journalism. Anyway, that part of my dream has passed and I have decided on a slightly different path to writing.  I need to go back to school to get my Master's/Master's in Fine Arts degree; or, if not accepted, then to get a second Bachelor's degree (probably in art as that would be the only one I could complete in a relatively short time as I was only two courses short of an art minor).  I have a few reasons for this.  First, I need to get back into the feel fro writing.  In case you haven't noticed, I have made a few grammatical mistakes and not just mistypes in these posts.  I need a refresher to get me back to speed.  Just writing this blog, and my store's, every week isn't enough.  I have had many ideas, but I have yet put any down for fear they will become "locked", in a way, and I wouldn't change them.  Second, I have been too isolated from the "real " world.  I need to reconnect with the greater world just so I get to know it again.  Let's face it, I feel that I am unhirable in my current condition.  I have no real work history and few skills.  I can barely use basic computer programs; this comes from someone who used to goof off on the school's Mac with a friend instead of working back in 1989.  While college might be insular, it is more than open enough for me to slowly enter the work force.  As of right now, I think few would hire me, unless they already knew me and what I had once been capable of.  Finally, I have come to accept that while I might have the heart of an artist, I have the brain of an academic.  A university might just be the best place for me to work.  While teaching might not be the ultimate goal,  a college campus could just be the best place for me to work.  I forwent education as a career because I didn't think I could handle being around children, but maybe older students wouldn't be so bad.  There are other jobs on campus as well, if I could get them, perhaps.  Once I have a job, or at least a renewed sense of my capabilities, then I will be ready to start writing professionally.  I think I might need help to reach my goals, though.  I have never been that much of a self-starter, so I need as much encouragement as possible.  Any help would be accepted, even if it is just a random comment.  Really.  Just saying I could do it would be a big help.  Every little bit helps.   Remember that.

Why/Y I Am

I have always kind of hated this time of year for a few reasons.  Yes, there is the increasing heat of summer and bygone memories of having to spend months out from school,alone and away from friends.  Another reason was Fathers' Day.  This will mark the forty-fifth year in a row that I will not be celebrating it.  I have never met or seen my father.  Once, way back in kindergarten, I asked my mother about him.  For some reason, I cannot remember much of that conversation.  The most I can remember is that his name might start with "J"; I never had the courage to ask since, even when the issue started to bug me.  I wouldn't have minded that so much, except I never had another male role model to take his place.  Of course, I never knew any of my father's side of the family, so forget about them for now.  My maternal grandfather died before I was born.  I don't know much about his (Hall) side of the family.  We went to some family reunions of them when I was a kid, but those visits stopped by the time I was ten or so.  I know much more about my maternal grandmother's side (Little) of the family.  While I had a few grand-uncles (or should that be great) and adult male cousins, my mom always seemed to have me visit my female family members.  I didn't really have a role model outside of the family either.  The best I had were some of my male friends who tried to teach me about being a man, but since I did not have the same base level of knowledge to start out on, a lot of those lessons either went over my head or didn't stick.   To this day, I feel that they still had more to teach me if only we had been closer friends or if we had stayed together a little longer.  Now, many of them are fathers of sons themselves, some old enough to be fathers as well.  They definitely don't need a man-child like me busting into their lives nowadays.  I was forced to try and learn much on my own.  I still find it hard to see myself as a man, as in an adult male.  Don't get me wrong, I see myself firmly on the masculine side of the spectrum.  I usually act like an adult, at least part of the time (I have always had a childish mischievous streak).  It is just where they intersect where I seem to have a problem.  I feel like I missed out on something, but I have no idea what it was.  That may be was has been holding me back, this fear that I don't know enough or that I wasn't told what to do.  The weird thing is, part of me doesn't want to know about my father.  I feel he could still be out there, possibly with a sibling (for some reason, I have always thought that I needed a brother, as if there were actually one), leading a life I could have lived.  I don't mind it, too much.  I also don't mind being a father myself, yet.  Yes, one day I would like to have children of my own, just so I can prove to myself that I can be a dad to someone.  To be honest, I really haven't liked being around young kids since about the eighth grade, but I would like to think that would change if I had some of my own.  With my current situation (and basic math and human biology), I doubt that I will be celebrating next year either.  However, within three to five years, I hope that will change and I will finally get to celebrate Fathers' Day, this time from the other side of the equation.

I Dare You to Use That In a Sentence

Last week was the National Spelling Bee, an event frequently appreciated by "word nerds" like myself.  To be honest, I only made my school finals once, and I got eliminated quite early for spelling "break" instead of "brake," or the other way round; it was over thirty years ago.  Anyway, I was going to go on a tirade about how the Bee was running out of words and now had to pick the most obscure ones that have barley been used ever in English, when they through me a curve ball.  The words in the Championship Rounds were actually somewhat common.  In fact, not only did I recognize some of them, but I also knew how to spell one of them (pykrete, it was the subject of a Mythbusters segment).  I was even able to find the winning word, 'marocain' in dictionaries at my store.  Okay, it was the crossword puzzle dictionary and the Scrabble player's dictionary, but it still counts.  I even found it in the French dictionary, but with totally different meanings.  Translated from French, marocain can be a noun meaning "someone from Morocco" or an adjective meaning "of or pertaining to Morocco."  It didn't say if it could also mean the fabric used in by the announcer at the Bee.  It is actually a fairly common word, probably known to thousands of people connected to the fashion industry, compared to the much smaller numbers of some other recent winning words.  It got me wondering though, why do spellers always ask for the part of speech, when it is usually quite obvious by the definition what part of speech it is.  They cannot actually be thinking "I wonder if one can use a bird's name as a verb?".  I mean, at their ages, I knew that a noun was "a person, place or thing" thanks to Schoolhouse Rock.  They must use it as a delaying tactic, or they are not being taught basic grammar along with spelling.  However, my favorite part of the Bee is when the announcer gives examples of the word in a sentence.  The examples are almost always witty and usually have a touch of snide sarcasm.  My favorite one from this year was for ehretia. The sentence compared this ancient Roman term for a female attendant with a young girl's wish to someday become a part of Taylor Swift's posse.  It was a near perfect example for the word in a modern context, while still providing a bit of levity to the situation.  In fact, writing these example would be a dream job of mine.  Sure, you would only have to work two or three days a year, but you probably wouldn't get paid much either.  Still, it would be a good fit for me.  (Note:  The words in blue are definitely spelled correctly.  I made sure of it by checking my notes from the Bee before starting today's post.  Spellcheck did not catch them, thereby proving that the Bee might be getting a little too deep into the English language in finding words.)