Feeling Rather Micro-Centered
I wish that one day I could shop at my local Micro Center without getting strange looks, or better yet, without feeling that asking a question will immediately trigger feelings of inadequacy in the salesperson I speak with. While perusing the barebones computer kits with my hubby, after becoming disenchanted by the lack of pretty (pink- so sue me, I like pink) towers, I stopped a salesman to inquire about professional-grade gaming mouse pads. After passing me both an amused and inquisitive look, the salesman led my two year old and I down the mouse aisle and pointed to the full selection of mouse pads there. Happy that he had satisfied my need, he started off; I looked blankly, wondering if the salesman just didn't hear my full question or is trying to be an ass.
Leaving the store, I felt as if I might as well had done a bit of soft shoe while eating chicken and painting my nails. Why is it that I'm not allowed to know my stuff when it comes to computer accessories? Who said that a guy can't spend a ridiculous amount of money on his hobby without being looked at as a broke poser? Once, just once, I'd like to spend one day not being reminded about how completely fucked up people are, but I think that might be asking too much. Socially, black nerds are not the norm. Got it. Since we're there, in your face, can you at least act like you're not surprised to see us shop in your store? Can you pretend that you're not amazed that we can afford to have a hobby budget? Would it kill you not to be a ass when all we want to do is get our computer stuff and go home to nerd it out when the kid is asleep?
Having to leave the store feeling this way in any regard speaks volumes. Maybe Tiger Direct or Newegg deserves more of our business anyway.
Taking A Hiatus
Hey peeps! So, I've decided to take a hiatus from blogging for approximately 2 months to focus on playing games. Sounds strange, since its probably easier to write about he games as I play them, but I want to take a break to refocus my blog to be an analysis of the games I play instead of fluff posts about the game. Make sense? It does to me, so I'll see you soon.
In the meantime, feel free to check out my archives, or find me on one of these games:
RIFT: LynValerie (forum name), Briarcliff server (Athaera)
DC Universe Online: Panthera Noir, Virtue and Vice server
World of Warcraft: Marlii, Azuremyst Server (Horde)
Ta-ta for now!
Mini Story: The End of My Career- A Day in the Life of Shagwella Blitz
Here's a funny little story I wrote a few years ago. Enjoy! Careening through clouds over a pristine beach of white sand, I take a second to ponder the lives of those who can’t fly. What a downtrodden population it must be, not being able to feel the wind whip their hair back sharply, caressing their shoulders as they navigate the skies. As I reluctantly land at my destination, careful to avoid the haphazardly placed palm and forest trees, a rather odd assortment for such a temperate location, I jerk a bit, my walking staggered by the evil creature known in my world simply as “Lag.” Suddenly, my senses dull, and three flimsy, grey carpeted walls come into my sight; a large, off-white, fluorescent light glares overhead, and directly in front of me is my computer screen, with a human character standing in front of a beach house, rather impatiently. I then remember that I did not fly, and do not have physical impairments that prevent me from walking fluidly; I have yet again allowed myself to abandon reality as we know it and lose myself in my Second Life, a virtual, user created platform where one can begin life anew. Looking around my cubicle, I suddenly feel a twinge of guilt; piles of documents begging to be processed lay strewn about, and a familiar voice looms over head- it’s that of my boss, making rounds. I quickly minimize the Second Life screen, pausing for a second to look at my character, of whom I named Shagwella Blitz (a name that I now kick myself in the pants for, as I am not able to get a decent SL job because of its…uniqueness), and pull up the company database, hammering away at the keys like a happy little administrative assistant. “Hi Paul, how are you this morning,” I squeak, rather guiltily might I add. “Oh, just fine, Linda- how are you coming along with those expense reports?” I quickly glance at the disheveled stack of papers and grimace, swiveling in my uncomfortable faux leather office chair to peer up at my boss. “Oh, they’re coming. I should have them complete by this afternoon.” Satisfied with my answer, Paul nods his head solemnly before walking around to the next set of cubicles to check on his accountants. I sigh loudly, and after lifting slightly from my chair to check out my surroundings, I hit the maximize key on my Second Life screen.
My boyfriend had already arrived at my beach home by the time I’d rejoined life number two, and my instant message box was filled with queries as to my whereabouts. I saunter into the house clad in a purple cropped jacket from Thimbles over a plain white system undershirt, Armidi jeans and silver Stiletto Moody pumps. Taking a final alt-scroll look at my appearance, I change my hair from an extravagant long curly ‘do to a bun with side-swept bangs. As I settle on the couch’s poseball next to my Second man, as I so affectionately call him, I notice he’s watching “I Think I Love My Wife” on the Speakeasy big screen.
Shagwella Blitz: hey, whatcha up to?
BillyRay Courtois: nothin much, just watching your tv lol
Shagwella Blitz: well, you should be watching something else *winks*
BillyRay Courtois: oh trust me, I am *licks his lips*
BillyRay Courtois: hey, where’s your collar? how dare you take it off without my permission!
Shagwella Blitz: oh you mean the amethyst one? I got a dari’s instead- you get more control
Shagwella Blitz: I’m sorry Master…girl will not do it again
BillyRay Courtois: w/e…just put it on so I can lock you to a metal ball lmfao
Dropping to my knees in submission before my boyfriend, my first self giggles a little bit at the exchange, wondering how such an independent woman could allow some virtual man to control her actions. I pull up my inventory, and “snap” the Dari collar around my neck; a black leather collar adorned with sharp looking spikes, it almost felt as if I had transformed into a beast- a lustful, pleasure seeking maiden who lives up to her name. Somehow my real life crept in again, and I thought about my husband- what a wreck he was in this department! Thank goodness for the magic of virtual reality.
I crawled over to my boyfriend, my stylish outfit magically transforming into a skimpy black silk teddy with fine lace detailing. Where did I get this from again? Oh, Nyte and Day! I’ll have to get another, I think to myself. Kneeling in front of my Abyss-skinned lover, I smile, watching as a pink and blue poseballs appear in front of me, with rather risqué commands listed on both.
BillyRay Courtois: get on, now.
Shagwella Blitz: yes, Mast
A sudden tap on the real life shoulder disrupts my lusty banter- it was Paul, my boss, glaring. “Hi Paul, I was just-““Linda, this is the second time I have caught you in this…this game, neglecting your work responsibilities. Do you know how many people would kill to have your position right now?” I blinked, stifling a giggle as the $10.60 an hour Administrative Assistant position at Barney and Associates seemed less important than what Paul believed it to be. “Uh, I am sure many would, sir. I’m sorry- I’ve just been having trouble concentrating…“ Whizzing around in my chair, my mouth drops as I notice BillyRay is naked on my screen, his…attachment inches away from my virtual face. I put my hands up to the screen in a futile attempt to cover my lover’s nudity as Paul looks on with wide eyes. “What! Linda what in the world are you doing? Just…just pack up your things…you have until lunchtime to be out of here!” His face beet red with embarrassment, Paul storms away into his office and slams the door, leaving a small crowd of my peers huddled around my computer screen, snickering.
Another job lost to Second Life. Oh well, there’s always virtual escorting. Thanks, Linden Lab!
My Second Existence
So, for the past four years I've been infatuated with something that is not a game, but very...well, game-like. In this experience, I've been a vampire, a slave, a business mentor, a demon, a fawn, a dalmatian, and a sorority sister. I've traveled the world, found love, been married and divorced, acted as a pastor, and even died and came back to life three times.
Imagine never having to leave your computer chair, instead opting to live out your life as an avatar in a virtual experience where bodily functions are things of the past. You can fly, and can be whomever you choose; from millionaire to milliner, you have the option to choose your future as you see fit. Your real life person, simply the brain behind your avatar, could be free to sit on the outskirts of actual reality as an anti-establishment character, a loner of sorts. Never to see the light of day, except for retrieving groceries or shoveling snow, your physical body outside of "your actual world" can be left to its own devices as your svelte counterpart thrives even without your constant care-taking.
This is what the rest of the world thinks of those who choose to immerse themselves into a game experience.
Aside from ignoring my personal appearance and bodily functions, for a while I could say that I was- I'll say intrigued- by Second Life and its sociological prospects as a microcosm of the real world; when I woke up from my virtual slumber, I looked around to notice that fairy furry vampires were just the same as Dave and Sue from around the corner. Second Life, and other virtual worlds like it, is not a mini-Utopian village, but a clone of the world that we choose to leave when visiting.
As I evolve in my gaming career, I've come to notice that all games share this quality; if left to the game for countless hours on end, we may indeed start preferring that world over our own. Whether or not it was the developer's intent to make an experience so fulfilling that one could completely abandon the real world for an alternate reality is debatable, but the question of whether or not one can become enveloped by such an experience is not.
In moving forward in my experience as a Game Design student, I'll try to keep in mind that the human psyche is delicate, and can sometimes be easily coerced into experiences that may feel real. In order to keep some sort of intelligence in future generations, I suppose its my social responsibility.
Holiday Break!
I'm trying to get my Goblin Hunter to level 85 before my school break is done (I'm at 31 now...LOL), so I'll be back next week to blog. Happy Holidays!
The Care Bear Stare- Me No PVP
I don't play Call of Duty or visit battlegrounds. I don't aim to kill other human players, and I certainly don't volunteer to fight for territory. I'm a care bear and proud of it.
In a world laden with violence, destruction natural and man-made, it's my personal choice to abstain from simulated violence against another human being, instead opting to virtually kill non-playing characters to unleash my pent-up aggression. Pulling out my soapbox here, while I don't think badly of anyone who enjoys fighting against another worthy opponent, I feel that the play style is not my own; personally, I enjoy honing my survival skills with computer generated spawns who don't step away from the screen with the rush of just having killed another.
I've watched my husband play Call of Duty; being a former Marine, he thrives in the rush and challenge of taking out insurgents to protect his home turf. While admirable in thought and consideration, I find it hilarious to watch him transition from the computer into another task; pumped from the thrill of the kill, his actions when doing anything (like paying the pizza man, pouring soda, etc) are precise, quick, and instinctual, almost as if in the next second he'd take the poor pizza guy in a choke hold and snap his neck.
Call me a neo-hippy, but its just not my thing to be aroused by pursuing and killing humans (even creatures I know are human behind the screen)- never have been. In my gaming career thus far, I've preyed upon aliens of all sorts, unnatural creatures big and small, humanoids, and even fluffy bunnies and squirrels; each time I think about going against someone I know is human, or an NPC that appears human, I cringe. Is it my nature, or is it that the practice of killing another being through gameplay disturbs me? Its up for debate, I'm certain, but I'd rather embrace my care bear tendencies than to gank another in cold blood before shutting down my MacBook Pro to go to bed. There's enough violence surrounding me on TV shows, the news, movies, and in other neighborhoods in my city to embrace it in game form for hours on end. Give me Thrax, Stormtroopers, Lord Cobrahain, or even Pac-Man ghouls- just don't ask me to kill another human, NPC or otherwise.
If you personally enjoy PVP and stuff, more power to you! Just don't ask me to join your PVP servers; I'd be happier picking flowers for my herbalism profession, or taking out the Naga from afar.
EMBRACE THE CARE BEAR COUNTDOWN-
5,4,3,2,1!
My Debut as a Stripper Extraordinaire...
Today I'm preparing for my biggest performance ever; having practiced with bands here and there for the past few years, its now time for me to make my debut on the stage for a solo performance. Its just me and the pole, and while I am nervous to bare all for an audience of many, I aim to please.
After deciding on my look, meticulously applying makeup to areas seen and barely covered, I quickly thought up a background (because all dancers are college nerds, you know). Hurrying about to finish my preparation while Allure finesses the stage, I stopped to ponder a stage name. Should I choose to be called Bambi, Candy, or Baby? I look down at my outfit, a wet, flesh-baring white tank with blue track shorts, tall white socks and knee high white platform boots, and decide that I'd be as sweet and succulent as Candy today.
Stepping out onto the stage, the noise is almost deafening. I look out into the dark, almost ominous club and notice a few of my regulars shouting out catcalls as usual. I blow them a kiss after teasingly pulling down my top so to cover some of my ample bosom; grasping the pole with two small hands, I take a second to recall my routine, and then get on with the show.
Swaying to the beat, my mind focuses on the moves- slide down the pole...then left, floor roll...legs open, then closed, open- left, left, down. I stop and notice the crowd getting more and more aroused, and I follow suit, ripping my clothes off in a fit of full lust. Again the sound of the crowd fills the room, and tips fly up to the stage almost too fast for me to retrieve, but I manage to grab it all. Down, right, downleftright...I continue to move meticulously and sensually to the beat until the song ends.
Pausing to bow to the crowd, still fully exposed, I look over to my manager to check my stats before preparing for another performance. Satisfied at my "score", I snatch my money playfully from the house mom and saunter off of the stage, exhausted but exhilarated from a great performance.
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Pole dance for glory and assume the position of a sex worker with Adult Swim's Poledance Party 2; intoxicating moves, melodic music that you can control, and the chance to make your parents proud awaits you too, broke college student. Don't hesitate- the pole is calling.
Manifesto of the Grrrl Gamer
I wrote this a few years ago for a self-publishing site, and felt the sentiment applies for today's blog post. Enjoy!
I’m a 24 year old super social fashionista who loves nightclubbing with my homegirls, chugging imported beers with my collegiate peers, and browsing vintage boutiques for quirky additions to my wardrobe.
I’m also a grrl gamer.
Yes, the stereotypes are out there- you know, the overweight, glasses-wearing, greasy-skinned low self-esteem having outcast chick that has a penchant for gothic attire and ill-placed mascara. She’s not me, and moreover, I’m Black- fancy that. Just because I enjoy thrashing Bane in Tabula Rasa, questing with a Paladin in Everquest, or kicking back in my virtual mini-mansion with my closest Second Life friends doesn’t make me any less of a diva, it makes me one kick-arse, highly desirable girlie. I mean, what dude wouldn’t want to marry a woman he could depend on to heal him when he tanks a quest?
And guys- like you have room to talk! You bury yourselves into sports, holding Shaq up on a pedestal while I scratch at your leg like a forlorn kitty begging for a morsel of tuna; yet surprisingly you complain when my level 60 Necromancer gets more attention than does your boo-boo. Just like you need your NHL fix, I need to kick major booty in a non-illegal way. And trust me- you’re not as hot as you think.
Some of my friends think I’m absolutely loco for assuming a virtual manifestation of myself and buying things with my hard earned dollars that aren’t real. Some have even threatened to tell my mom, who knew that my hopeless addiction to internet chat rooms and 8-bit Nintendo would eventually progress to the hard drug known to my people as MMO’s. “Just don’t turn into one of those computer nerds with pale skin and acne,” she’d warn. Do you know what I say in response to their feigned pleas? Shove it. Yes, two little words with the uncanny ability to sum up my expletive tirade to all the naysayers who have over the years criticized my lifestyle choice-because as you know, being a gamer is hard work and long hours of finger manipulation.
Phew, and don’t get me started on virtual love. I’ve dated some wonderful guys offline that I’ve met in guilds or while sunbathing under the virtual sun in Second Life, and I can be the first to tell you that some of those relationships, however awkward in the beginning, were far more meaningful than the ones I’ve shared with a guy I’d met in a bar. While it’s true that some MMO hotties can be super creepy, there are good pools of men and elves looking for an amazingly interesting girl like you to fight Thrax or whatever enemies lay in your path.
Girls, call me Karla Marx; I’d be more than obliged if you’d compared my rant to a new-age communist manifesto of the gaming variety, a declaration of independence from grrl gamer stereotypes. You’re awesome, and can still be a hip and fashionable gaming diva.
Vive la Grrl Gamer Revolution!
Ranty Panties: WoW, You Suck at Dungeons
Here's my first of what will be many in what I'd like to call, Ranty Panties; reminiscent of someone wearing underwear just a bit too snug, this series of high-strung probably egotistical rants will come straight from the hip, usually after the malady occurred. Enjoy!
Tonight's rant comes to us from the revamped world of Azeroth, shaken and stirred by the deadly Deathwing after he caused Cataclysm on the old world. Donning a new adventurer, my Goblin Hunter named Marlii (on Azuremyst- add me to your [mature] guild if you're on that server), I set out this evening to level from 15-25, the arduous levels where drops come infrequently and misspelled animals annoy the heck out of you. Instead of questing through these levels, I thought it might be easier and more enjoyable to do dungeons to complete the levels; little did I know that I'd be in for more of a headache than chasing down those zebra thingies.
The first group I got into at level 15 was just perfect; a healer, 3 DPS, and a tank. Everyone played their roles correctly, and we took down the bosses in Ragefire Chasm with no complaints. I rejoiced as I "dinged" 16 and got a nice blue drop, and thanked the people in the group for the great run. Still smiling after leaving that dusty dungeon, I again hopped onto the Dungeon Finder (found by hitting "I" when on the main screen), this time trying the "Random Classic Dungeon" option. Within minutes I was placed in a Deadmines group who ran through with no concern for each other, for the amount of pulls, for the lack of a good healer, or for loot; as with some pick up groups, a loot ninja totally went through each bosses' pocket, slapping a "need" sticker on things that a shaman should not even look at. Needless to say the shammy ruffled a few feathers; the group ended up stopping just short of taking out Captain Cookie and no one received the end experience. My last group, of which I joined already in progress in the Wailing Caverns, was again an all-for-self team, and after one wipe (in which the tank pulled one whole room of about 20 mobs with a less than stellar healer) everyone dropped group.
Now, I can't blame the Dungeon Finder for putting me in crap groups, because I suppose I should hop into a leveling guild that would run 5-man teams with me in the dungeons. On the one hand, I really do love the excitement and uncertainty of running a group with a bunch of strangers, and on the other hand it really sucks sometimes, especially when you're on a mission. I have a Celestial Steed (the one that you can buy from the World of Warcraft Store for $25.00) desperately waiting to spread its wings about Azeroth, and poor Marlii can't quite make it to the stable to learn to ride her. I'd ask that people stop being juvenile when it comes to intercepting loot to sell it for 10 times what its worth on the Auction House, or that they'd learn that sometimes mistakes and wipes happen, but for an entry-level MMO like WoW, it might be asking too much, so all I have is my panties bunched up in a wad and this nice long blog post to vent my frustrations.
Ah well, there's always tomorrow.
Getting a RUSH!
RUSH, an amazingly splendid spectacle of squares created by Two Tribes, is my new addiction. Have you ever played a game that started off so simple you just knew that you'd have the game at each difficultly level mastered by the end of the day? Well, for those of you puzzle aficionados who appreciate a good challenge, try RUSH and see if you don't pull your hair out by the 10th level!
The gorgeous graphics and intoxicating music lends for not only a pleasurable gaming experience, but one that lingers after you click "exit." A simple premise, guiding blocks to their exit points by using an arsenal of arrows and signs, turns into one that proves to be more of an exercise in spatial positioning than anything; I found myself not only expertly twisting the screen (as reinforced by the robust tutorial), but twisting my head as well to figure out in which square I should place a sign. The game sort of reminds me of Cubis in the way the puzzles are laid out, but has a distinct advantage, as you can rotate the game board completely to find your solution.
RUSH just came out on Steam on December 3rd, and at last check in the Steam store, its only $5.00; if you're looking for a time filler that will leave you both relaxed and wondering where the stop sign should go on the pavement, try RUSH!
