Link I Need for Class!

https://vimeo.com/64480006

Fuckin' Shitty Shit

So I've never really changed. Still a pretty awful person.
Took one of my best friend's feelings and destroyed them.
Took his kindness and tossed it aside...
Took his love and never fully returned it.

All in the name of what? Me? My mental health?

None of this is really healthy.

I am sad for him. But I made the right decision for me.

He sang for me yesterday... one of the most heartbreaking yet lovely moments of my life.
He showed me his face.
He showed me his smile.
He showed me how he looks at me...
and somehow, it just wasn't enough.
The whole world wasn't enough...
because I never got to feel the world.
I never knew the world was waiting for me until it was too late --
the breaths of recognition are the hardest to breathe.

I made a new connection. A very strong, new connection.
and I want to pursue it.

I want to go celebrate his birthday with him. I want to meet new people and make new friends.
It's seriously full-on Alladin Whole New World-ness...
it's exciting, new, full of adventure and possibly a really great relationship.

I am so sad I had to give up so much.
But it all seems like it'll be worth it.

I just wish there was some way to make you smile, friend. To lessen your pain.
You tried everything. Max effort. I loved and appreciated each moment.
I am just so sorry.

Heart Hurts

I am so sorry. I never told you how much I cared. There were nights that I didn't tell you I loved you because I wanted to see your face light up. I wanted to hold your hands as it happened. But now... now I just kind of want to cry. To lose you would be so hard. But I'm scared and broke. I want to take it easy. I guess. I don't know if not falling asleep to your laugh will be worth it....
I'm sorry. I just want to try something new.
I love you... so much but I can't rely on the unreliable anymore.
I still wanted to write you that Sonnet. It's half done on my computer.
My heart hurts.

Me & the Fish

I LOVE HERRR 🐠🐟🐠🐟❤❤😍

Thinking About a Dissertation

If I want to go to grad school, I need to figure out something to write a dissertation on.

A dissertation... literally the longest thing I will ever write about something in my entire life.

I want to write about MMOs and the experimental narratives they create.

I want to write about player / avatar interaction
and avatar / world interaction
avatar / avatar interaction
the power of a name in the MMO context; including a discussion of lore specific names and the choice to have or not have one; the choice to have a non-conventional name; a celebrity or fictional character name, stuff like that
I want to write about the performance of an avatar in casting spells or attacking with weapons as an important part to constructing an identity
I want to write about the clothing options an avatar has, and how those choices and the ability to change those choices motivates the narrative an avatar creates
I want to talk about the proliferation of the mind into an avatar
I want to talk about loyalty to a certain aesthetic of an avatar
I want to talk about player / player interaction and how those interactions influence narrative
I want to talk about player / npc interaction and "the silent protagonist"
I want to talk about player communities, and how they influence narrative
I want to talk about language / text choices made by players that influence narrative
I want to talk about (in FFXIV specifically) the auto translate function, and how it influences narrative

What does person to person voice interaction do to a narrative? Is it completely disconnected from the creation of an avatar's story?

I want to talk about the "life" that avatars in virtual worlds lead.

I think, most of all, I want to talk about the power of a virtual world. I want to talk about why the virtual world should matter to people in the real world. And why a virtual open world allows for some of the greatest, creative, genuine narratives to emerge.
I want to talk about the great humanness that stems from people writing their own stories.

I want to talk about the disjunct of continuing a story even when you don't play a MMO for some time. What does it do to the narrative? Does it destroy it? How can it be talked about, explored, or explained?

There's a lot I could do regarding narrative, authorship, and the human experience regarding MMOs.

But man, would anything like this ever fill up 200 pages? At least? I mean man, I could write of colorful anecdotes and explain game mechanics / plot all day long but um...

200 pages? On MMOs? Do I know MMOs better than anything? I might. I honestly haven't done anything so diligently or passionately as I have... playing video games??

What about an avatar's relation to their pet? Or minions? How does that affect narrative?

I also want to talk about if a gaming company renders a virtual world, and a player creates a narrative, is that narrative truly the player's?

Are virtual worlds open gates into the world of creativity? Does the basic setting help the creative process along? Does it help more people develop their own sense of self and personal story?

There's so much to MMOs. So much to explore, dissect, and study.

Maybe it'll be me. Maybe I can do it.

I might want to start off writing an essay on one of those ideas. But it'd have to be a good, long one, because my writing submission has to be I think 15 pages minimum. Woowee!

Imagine: playing MMOs to study them. That could be my life. My experimental research. That someone would support me in doing.

Crazy. Crazy awesome.

I hope I come back soon to add more ideas.

I've been thinking a lot about a dissertation lately: I was thinking about feminism, theater, and music in the Renaissance but like...
what could I say that would be new about it? That it happened? That it was crazy good for the development of female culture? Yeah, no shit.

I think saying that an open world MMO allows for the ultimate human-machine narrative experience is a pretty big, new, interesting claim to make. It would be really interesting to talk about avatars as a child of the mind + machine. Man, that sounds cool.

Man, I could even get Descartes in on this shit. That bro is all about machines... and stuff... I think

I can't hardly remember. Good thing I bought that book. Thanks Literary Guillotine!

GEEZ I AM SUCH A NERD PLZ SEND HELP GONNA DO SOME FRENCH VERBS OR SOME SHIT

I Can't Stop Reading

Is it weird, or wrong, to continuously read my writing?

Am I egotistical?

Am I allowed to be proud of my ability to put my thoughts on to a computer screen?

Or is it the emotion, the catharsis, of reading my stream of consciousness?

Oh Faulkner, you will always be my first treasured author.

Today, I got a few more spots on my face.

And today, I told myself, "you don't need to pick at that, it's not that big of a deal."

And today, I listened to myself. I didn't do it anyway.

I really wish I had some sort of insurance to determine if I am really truly depressed, if my anxiety is as bad as I think it is, or if I am just kind of lame and unable to handle disparity well.

I mean, I think I have pretty bad anxiety. I show symptoms of having a skin picking disorder, which are linked closely with anxiety and depression.

But really? Am I gonna trust Web MB and whatever Google brings up for me? Nahhh.

I might trust a PDF written by a doctor, though.

I need to figure out what triggers me to pick at my skin,

One thing mentioned was mirrors - I may need to cover my mirrors for some time in order to help my recovery. I don't need them in my room, and I can remove the covers if I need to do my makeup or something for going out.

I absolutely have a problem with picking at my face. I need help. But I have no money and I have no way to access a doctor of any kind any time soon. I can't even get my root canal until July because I couldn't make the April 23rd apt. My Mom was out of town and it was too far for me to get there on my own... and unlike my mother, I don't believe in burdening my friends with my personal problems, especially when they live half an hour away in Elk Grove. Yes, my friends theoretically should be happy to help me, but they have their own lives to deal with. They have to work, gas is expensive, and it really is a lot to ask for someone to pick you up, drop you off, and return to do so. That is honestly just too much.

I think I need one of those sunshines from CRPD to squeeze. I need to do something else other than to pick my face. I need to find some sort of behavioral conditioning tool. Whenever someone tells me, "don't pick at your face!!" It just evokes supreme feelings of shame and guilt. It encourages me to hide my issue, rather than deal with it. It reminds me that I have self confidence issues because of my own inability to keep my hands away from my face. That just continuously spirals into more despair, depression, and lack of hope.

I recently discovered that it is not simply my face that I pick, because when I am out I won't pick at my face. I wouldn't dare mess up my makeup in fear of the shame of a half made up half acne filled monstrosity. I don't know if anything screams "Please help me, I am caught in a cesspit of internalized misogyny and mental health issues and I don't have the resources to help myself," more than an obviously freshly picked at / still sort of made up face. So I have taught myself not to pick my face in public. When I am at home, though, there is no fear. I can lock the door to my room and just pick at my face until I feel better about it. Until I feel like my blemish is at least. "off my face." Let's not even talk about the dermatological setbacks constantly touching, picking, squeezing, and scratching at my face encourages. I know they are there. I know that I am not supposed to touch my face often. I just do it anyway. It relieves stress.

Lately, I have been trying to move on from Marine and combating the stress my boy internalized by doing whatever I can to help myself. I went to Ulta, talked to this super nice lady named Vicki Sue, and she is gonna hook me up. It's like she could really see right through me to the pain I have held in my soul for so many years. I have been doing very well. The first week I had the nice, new, "hope in a bag" as I call it, my face got visibly clearer. I believe that my new-found hope for myself really propelled me into not touching, picking, or scratching at my face. However, this second or third week, I can hardly remember how long now, I have discovered acne in spots where it shouldn't be, and I have picked at it. I need to constantly remind myself that even though a sore may be painful, gross, and awful to look at one day, it is usually just for one day. That's it. Just gotta leave it alone and it'll be better tomorrow.

I think another issue that really explicates my picking issue is my constant state of discomfort. I don't know what I did to my back in the 6th grade, but I was sweeping one day, pulled it, and it has never been the same since. My back always hurts. Always. I only have so much mental capability for dealing with constant pain. I want any new, temporary pain to go away immediately. Apparently, this means immediate enough that I will literally rip my skin apart to not feel the pressure of a forming spot.

Does writing about all of this help? Maybe? Dunno.

We'll see. I really need one of those sunshines. It's kind of crazy, I should have like a million of them.
I also have this bag from SF Pride like three years ago. Stress ball squeezy-things are pretty common "swag" from large scale events.

Actually, I don't want one of the sunshines. I want the ball. The sunshine is cute but the whole point of a stress ball type-thing is that it is a ball. It is round, and it fits in the palm of your hand in a way that is easily squeezable.

There's gotta be one of these around here somewhere! Gosh I could've made a ball pit with all the CRPD swag I had or have... not sure which.

I am almost done writing for now. But I need to mention that thing again.

The whole reason I woke up to read my writing was because I wanted to think about how much my simple silly friend from Colorado has changed my attitude towards myself for the better.

I am so grateful to him. I stayed up with him until the light of dawn last night. We just talked about the things we loved, and it was lovely.

I don't use my webcam with him yet. And it's funny, because it's not actually because I am so embarrassed, well, it's not all that, anyway. It's absolutely part that. But it's because my reward for my face clearing up will being able to make him happier. I want him to see me as all smiles, a beautiful, lively girl on the other side of the mountains. A person who has the confidence to wake up in the morning and not rush to the mirror to see if any new spots have appeared. I know I can do it. He is my encouragement.
...and he is not mad.
He doesn't see my insecurity as a fault of his own. He knows it is my problem. He does not think he is lacking in any way because I feel bad about my face.
But he does not blame me. He does not make me feel bad about not wanting to be on webcam. He does not pressure me to do so. The other night, I was thinking about it and I changed my mind. He was simply happy that I had reached the point where I had considered it again. Granted, he was a little sad because he thinks I am beautiful, and would just love to see my face, but that's okay. That's a reasonable emotional response, and does not place blame or guilt on me.

Man, when he comes back to my blog, he is gonna have a hell of a lot of text to read! I'm so excited because he'll be so proud of me for continuing to write. He'll tell me that he loves to read my writing, and though I never want to hear it read aloud, he'll tease me by reading select bits, and now he'll probably read a little bit extra just to mess with me because I wrote this! The meta is meta is meta is meta is meta.

. . .

I honestly don't even know if that is correct or true or anything but I feel like writing the word "meta" in my blog makes it entirely more profound, right?
And I mean, I put five of 'em in here. Five "metas."
Six now.
Writing is so weird and magical and line breaks and punctuation make me so giddy.

Thanks for reading, internet, see you later!

A Whole Lotta Stuff

This is a legit site for peer-reviewed scholarly articles on video games.

I've got a lot of reading to do.

Game Studies

Halo and the Anatomy of the FPS

The Sims: Grandmothers are cooler than trolls

Computer Games Have Words, Too: Dialogue Conventions in Final Fantasy VII.

Virtual Worlds Don't Exist: Questioning the Dichotomous Approach in MMO Studies

The Pastoral and the Sublime in Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams: Popular Music, Narrative, and Dystopia in Bioshock

The Algorithmic Experience: Portal as Art

A Pedestal, A Table, A Love Letter: Archaeologies of Gender in Videogame History

The Heuristic Circle of Real-Time Strategy Process: A StarCraft: Brood War Case Study

Bioshock: Complex and Alternate Histories

Play and Possibility in the Rhetoric of the War on Terror: The Structure of Agency in Halo 2

“Take That, Bitches!” Refiguring Lara Croft in Feminist Game Narratives

The Character of Difference: Procedurality, Rhetoric, and Roleplaying Games

Maybe I should do a thing where I read one of these like once every two weeks and then write some thoughts on them or something. I sure am adding a lot to my plate but if I really want to study games and literature this seems like a really good place to start learning new things.

I only highlighted the articles that piqued my own personal interest, (and maybe the interest of another turbo nerd!) but there were like at least four per issue. All of them are like crazy legit scholarly articles. It's fantastic. I can begin to read scholarly things on one of my favorite subjects! All this happened because when I was in college I found this amazing article on memory and storytelling featuring FFX. I really want to find it again one day, because I never did get to read it all. FFX was the first game that really got me into storytelling. Maybe it was what ignited my passion for literature... who knows!
I just love thinking of games, especially RPGs, as literature. As a text. As something worthwhile. I also just read this fantastic article on how FFX helped someone realize and combat their internalized misogyny. (It's because Yuna is baller!)

I haven't logged onto FFXIV all day today, and I'm kind of okay with it. I have to go wash my face and brush my teeth soon because the sleepy will onset my brain before I know it! And once that happens man oh man is it lights out for me.

I also have to mention one more thing. It's funny, because you probably won't read this for a number of days, or even weeks. I hope only days because I like to know when you check in on this here blog. It makes me smile. Like a lot of the stuff you do.
So, this thing, I feel, is now painfully obvious: I have found a person who supports me in ways that really help. Constant encouragement. Constant "Hey, did you do this for yourself today?" He, like me, is broke. Wants to leave home, and is pretty desperate to do so. He, like me, has dreams of being amazing. He, like me, has a great passion for learning, exploring, and thinking critically.
I did not think that a friendship would turn into this kind of pillar for me.
I also need to mention that I just recently got out of a relationship that started much in the same way: I, eternally on the depression roller coaster, needed support. I found support, and the depression subsided somewhat. I found a job, buried myself in work, and continued like that for over a year.
Then it is almost as simple as the words - I woke up, and realized I was painfully unhappy. I was helping local teens grown into themselves everyday, but somehow, I had forgotten about myself. I was lost in the muck of trying to move, trying to move as fast as possible to make my family believe that I wasn't so weird, that I could be accomplished. All I really needed to do that was to move out. That's all they really see as success. "Back in my day blah blah blah." "Give 'em tough love, Diane, that'll do it!"
Thank goodness my Mom loves having me and my brother around. Thank goodness she already fought the good fight for her kids. I really gained a new appreciation for her post working with small children for a year and a half. A single mother, with no money, taking care of TWO of us? Oh maaan. Fuck that.
Anyway, getting caught up in trying to impress my family almost made me move cross state into a situation that could have easily been dangerous. I was dating a Marine who beat up his little sister's boyfriends. (Albeit, they were pretty scummy, but I hate violence. Hearing of these things always made me cringe.) A man who could not control his anger when I questioned him. A man who could not control his ego. A man who believed, that after ignoring me, and not talking to me for a year, could buy me back with a car and an engagement ring. It almost worked.
I have been relatively poor my whole life. I say relatively because I am not actually, in any shape or form, poor. I had enough wealth to get an education. Granted, I am going to be in debt forever, but anyone who gets to go to a UC pretty much is not truly "poor." I have also been surrounded by friends who generally are more well off than me, which makes me feel like I have less than them. At UCSC, I very rarely met someone in the same financial situation as me. Most people I knew from college already have found great success. I am not saying it all has to do with wealth, but a lot of them have and/or had more monetary, familial, or other resources than me. I sit here, struggling to get a licence, a job that pays more than minimum wage. I live in the room I grew up in.
Anyway, so, Marine could have easily afford for us to live in a house. Not just an apartment, a house. A whole house that I could decorate. We could have a dog. I would have my own desk space, my own wall space, room to paint, room to create. A bathroom covered in purple. A perfect bed. Everything designed to a tee - by me. A real dream. A real place my Mom could visit. And all I had to do was leave the mediocre city of Rancho Cordova. Yeah. No brainer there. I started buying home appliances, and even the perfect bedspread: red and brown. Inviting, warm, and classic. Not too feminine, and not too masculine. Just a lovely bed for a couple to share. I used to talk about my design plans for our house (which originally started as an apartment, but that's moot point) over mountains of goldfish with the other preschool teachers. I feel like they could see the shine in my eyes. I was completely smitten. They always encouraged me to follow my dreams. There was even a parent that told me, "Do it girl. Just go, be you."
How could all of this just fall apart? Just like that?
Sometimes, it takes a real kick in the teeth to make you realize how blind you've been. How you can settle for mediocrity when you're too busy or tired to care.
And then you quit your job to move.
And then you are stuck at home, for endless hours, with time to think.
And then you play a MMO way too much. Unhealthily so.
And then, one day, you start to have fun again.
And then, one day, you drink and play a MMO, and all of a sudden you're up until 2 AM with a stranger and you haven't felt that kind of happiness in literal months.
And then, the next day, you wake up, with a slight hangover, and realize a stranger seems more interested in your work than your SO of two years.
And then, the real thinking begins:
Am I ready to move?
Does he actually listen to me?
Is my career a joke?
Does he take my intelligence seriously?
Does he respect my friends?
Can we have a discussion, debate, or argument without actually being mad at each other?

By the time I got to the last question I had realized that my answer to most of them was either no, or maybe.

I feel like anyone reading this would be thinking by now, "Gurl, the red flags. Look at them!!"

But this one person, a single soul, who actually just wanted to hang out with me, and listen to what I had to say about my kids. Who took interest in what I was doing - whether it was playing FFXIV, talking about Shakespeare, words, theater, or the other numerous interests of mine.
And who expected nothing from me. He just wanted to be my friend.

It's like all of a sudden something, really, truly clicked for me. And then I went through like two months of breaking up with my Marine. That shit was really long, really dragged out, and caused the worst depression I've felt in my entire life. And, at the end of it, the sad part is I was more upset about losing the prospect of a house, financial security, and good food than I was about losing him. How fucked up is that, really?
It's like I had already been beaten into submission. I had already given up on finding a person who is truly my twin flame, my soul mate, my perfect buddy.
There is a quote that I always remember from one of my favorite films, Moulin Rouge!

"We are creatures of the underworld. We can't afford to love."

I have always thought myself to be a creature of the underworld. Always. I have always thought that in life, I could afford to love or afford to live. I almost chose to afford to live. I almost gave up on love. Man that would've been a huge mistake.
What I want, more than anything, is to come home to someone who is eternally interested in me. For all of my flaws, all of my insecurities, and for all of the things I bring to the world, too. I could eat bread, butter, and water for the rest of my life if I could eat it with a handsome fellow smiling at me from across the room. Laughing with me over the simple, silly nuances of life. Someone to talk to about weird philosophy as we look at the stars. Someone to share the warmth of a cozy bed. Someone who thinks that my dreams are funded by love and dedication, not money.
I have also always thought that each failed relationship in my life teaches me something. I must say, this one was one of the craziest break ups I have ever had. It is only #2 on the crazy scale because #1 is like... full on dude needs mental help crazy. This relationship taught me to never give up on finding love. Love that truly makes me feel amazing. I am not saying that I wasn't in love with him, because I very much was. Some of the best nights of my life happened because of him. But so many of those nights were magical because we could afford to be there. I can't remember a night where we had a conversation that made my mind work for weeks. I can't remember a night where he did something so mind-boggling sweet, caring, and kind that I still reminisce about it. (Good fucking job, Ryan Ventura, you're still #1.)
All in all, I feel like it is just very simple to say that one sweet simple dork from Colorado changed my mindset from utter despair to the determination that got me to UCSC in the first place.
I have spent the last few hours, reading, writing, and listening to him play Halo over Skype. (Seriously.)
What is utterly fantastic is that we don't have to communicate, or do things together constantly to maintain a healthy relationship. I do not have to spend all of my hours on Skype trying to hold a conversation that just isn't happening. I am allowed to do something else, and he is not upset. He is not jealous that sometimes I want to go talk to people in TeamSpeak. He is not jealous of my relationship with other men. He understands that I can have friends who are male, who are not trying to get into my pants. (!!!) What is also fantastic is I haven't told anyone in my close friend group that he exists. I wasn't planning to for quite some time because jumping into a relationship right after a serious breakup is a pretty bad idea. But while it bugs him, because I know he wants to feel the validation, he does not pressure me to label us. He, at the end of the day, is just happy to spend time with me. He does not limit me. He does not control me. He only encourages me to do as much as I can because he believes that I am capable of amazing things. And the thing is, I believe him. In the past few months, I have regained so much of my determination and will to learn. I have set up study plans, I have made a daily mental health journal for myself. I even got the stickers. My time at preschool, while super stressful, garnered amazing friends and amazing experience.
I just, y'know...
am very grateful
for a single soul.

Oh and did I mention he can sing? Btu that he hasn't yet because he wants to make it amazing and memorable? Oh and he's nervous as fuck but yeah! You best watch our Ryan. Your #1 spot might be challenged sometime soon!

Just a note on grammar/editing here: for some reason the text editor is doing that thing where it highlights a letter and then doesn't let me add things without removing text. Annoying, hate it, will fix it later--

but then again, maybe I won't. I do enjoy the flow of my writing but sometimes I type so fast and so furiously that I kinda trail off into another idea before I am done fleshing out the first one!

Silly business.

But y'know, I am kinda done writing for now. A lot just happened.

And I think my sweetheart might be done playing Halo in a bit, and I am excited to fall asleep to his voice.

Did I mention that he can sing?
DID I?
Oh man. So exciting.

You know he also has two beautiful sisters that seem to adore him. And he loves dogs. He takes such good care of his older dog and it is the sweetest thing.

Well, it really is time to depart now. I gotta wash my face. I can't wait until he reads this later so he can be as happy as I am. Well, he might be, but I know this will put a smile on his face and that's all I can really ask for right now.

My face is recovering. It's gotten a little worse this week but it's doing better than it was.

:) Life is okay ~ labels to come much, much later, when I arrive back here to write again.

Bagel + Kids

This is a much lazier way to send this picture to my computer yeah woo 