So, it appears I have come down with the flu, just in time for the weekend. Huzzah.
As usual with life, there are both good and bad things to report. Guess I'll start with the little stuff first... my UT stats continue to rise (approaching 1,050 now)... I finally defeated Scott at a game of SFB last week, but in our next game I made an incredibly stupid mistake after briefly gaining a major upper hand, and he blew me up for it... we have yet another game of SFB going right now, in which it *appears* to me that I have the advantage, but I'm not sure yet.
In non-gaming news, I choreographed the crowd into the fight for Love's Labour's Lost yesterday. It went very smoothly. The whole thing's going very smoothly, actually, and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm not used to a fight coming together so nicely as this one is. So long as I can keep Luigi moving his body right (he's naturally very stiff-jointed), it'll be perfect. And nice pay for the work, too.
Speaking of pay, I almost reached 70 hours for the last paycheck for Whvyille... but then I got sick and bombed out on the last three days. Instead of twenty hours, I just got 12 in. I'm thinking about working this weekend and adding that to Friday, but I think it'd be better to have it on the next paycheck, which will be a smaller one due to the shorter month.
I'm pretty happy with my company's response to my efforts at creating a stable of characters for Whyville. Right now I'm focusing on describing the folks we already have penned; not sure how everybody will deal with my creating new characters and stories, but I have a feeling they'll blithely let me do my thing, at least UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE!!! Muwha-ha-hahaaa!!! ;)
Seriously, I don't think anybody in the company (with the possible exception of Ann, our artist) realizes how important the characters I develop will be for Whyville. They define the flavor of the site almost as much as the artwork itself, and certainly more than the games and activities.
I honestly believe that Whyville would have many fewer citizens without Bigfoot Bill -- he's the guy who wrote most of the help articles AND he was the primary presence of the City Workers on Whyville last year. Remove Bigfoot Bill, and I think a lot of kids would have left from frustration of not understanding the site, and of not seeing a personality to relate to at any level.
But the importance of characters goes a lot deeper than that. The most popular stuff out there all involve stories and characters -- anime, Sega/Nintendo/X-Box games, and all those TV shows, movies, etc -- and we haven't made any effort to develop that for ourselves. I believe that our user numbers are going to noticeably increase once we have a site story/personality for the kids to follow and get involved in.
Addiction's the name of the game. I'm just adding a new hook to our fishing lures.
That's a lovely metaphor, don't you think? Picture those kids, fresh from the muddy rivers of their dank, damp schools, wriggling and flopping at the end of our fishing line, caught in our 'net...
Mwha-ha-hahaha!!!
Anyway... brb, gotta fill up the OJ cup...
Listening to my mp3 mix, Geri Halliwell comes up and reminds me of another small happiness of recent weeks: I finally got the CDs I ordered from BMG, after a long wait. I'd been wanting to fill out my surprisingly empty hard rock collection, so I picked up Linkin Park (Hybrid Theory), American Hi-Fi (self-titled), Staind (Break the Cycle), and Nickelback (Silver Side Up). I think I also ordered Blink-182's first album, but it hasn't arrived.
And while I was browsing for those albums, I spotted Geri Halliwell (Schizo-phonic) in the $2 bin. I like Geri. She's hot, and she seems pretty smart. She's certainly a good person, and the world could use a few more of those. Her music ain't exactly brilliant, but not all my CDs need put me into a state of intellectual ecstasy, you know. ;-)
Looking back at this entry, it seems I have a long list of little happy events... which makes it odd that I should be so down right now. Perhaps it's really as simple as being sick that's got me feeling so bleah. This flu thing certainly has got my body on the run.
That reminds me -- I had to cancel today's pick-up rehearsal with The Band because I was so sick. Don't know if Paul came over anyway and played with effects pedals with Scott. I was sooo unconscious for most of today...
Last Thursday was a decent rehearsal. We added effects to Scott's Push Comes to Shove and worked it some more, but we didn't get to Black Hole Sun or anything else. I really wish we could go to two rehearsals a week. Then I wouldn't feel quite so crappy when we lose time. I'd be able to enjoy just hanging out, doing all the little things I want a band to do... but we don't.
It comes down to, I have all these things I want a band to do and be, and I honestly don't believe the band in its current formation will ever live up to those goals. I'm not going to up and walk away from the guys over it, but I know in my soul that this group doesn't have a tenor's chance in hell of satisfying me.
I want more. It depresses me to know I won't be getting it, not here, not now.
I wish Evan wanted to be in the group I want to be in. I wish Scott and Paul had time to be in the group I want to be in. I wish I didn't have to be the socio-emotional leader of this group. I don't have the consistency of faith to be the sole driving motivator. I just don't.
Now, I *can* still enjoy my time with The Band. It *is* a step or two up from Ecphonema and the Out of Context I was in. I *am* learning from the experience, and getting some enjoyment out of it. But at this point, I can't help but see it as little more than a stepping stone. I can't be any more ambitious. I can't imagine the group working hard enough to ever reach the point where Evan really had to decide to bail because being successful was too much time commitment. We'll never get to being remotely that successful if we don't ALL spend more time -- IN and OUT of rehearsal, for god's sake -- on the music and the performance and the gigging and on and on. Just because we don't have a huge repertoire and a complete group doesn't mean we shouldn't be working our butts off, dagnabbit.
Bleah. I could whine and bitch and rant and rave forever about The Band. It's not that I hate it or the guys. I just want more.
Sigh. I always seem to want more.
I throw words into cyberspace and I expect a response. Is that too much?
No, I'm not talking about this diary. Frankly, I'm fine with not getting responses to my diary. That's the least of my worries. My diary is for me to respond to, not other people -- not that I dislike other people responding to it, just that that's not the end all be all goal of the thing. On the other hand...
On the other hand, when I write an email I expect a response. Especially when I put effort into the damn thing, when I put down poetry and share it like soul, a little whisper between friends. I don't like just being somebody else's sounding board. Give and take, dammit.
Not that it's likely anybody who's reading this is the person I'm talking about. I'm just getting the words out.
Really beginning to wonder about this public diary, though. I clearly don't want to say who I'm talking about.... The funny thing is, anybody who's reading this probably already knows who I'm talking about, or can figure it out right quick. Narf.
Sometimes silence is the best thing between friends... and sometimes it's just a vacuum, and it sucks.
And it's not like we're even friends. Random acquaintances, trading the occasional melancholy phrase, random splashes of spirit on a rain-washed day. You don't know me. Which would be fine, but I get the distinct impression at this point that you don't care to know me.
If that's true, fuck off.
No, wait. First tell me it's true. Then fuck off.
I feel like I'm fucking Charlie goddamn Brown, waiting for the frigging red-headed girl's Valentine card, only all I'm waiting for is an email. Doesn't even have to be romantic. Ah, bloody hell. Somebody get me Snoopy, swoop in with the Sopwith Camel and take out my goddamn mailbox. Maybe I'll stop waiting then.
Pfeh. What I hate the most about this situation is that the whole damn thing could easily be pure figment, straight from the wishful-thinking department of my imagination. I've done similar stuff before. I usually like to believe the best of people, the best of a possible relationship. Funny. Guess that makes me an optimist. Except that I'm aware of the possibility that there is no possibility, even as I hope. Does that make me a pessimist, or a realist, or just an optimist who's not on crack?
She wrote to me about rainy days, intensity, and lost poetry... helplessness, loneliness, and better days tomorrow.... And it's been years and years and years since anyone shared a soul so poetic with me. No wonder my heart is pulled towards romance. I try to cling to concrete truths, knowing so little, aware and suspicious of my tendencies to want and ache and yearn. But it's like her words are a rainstorm and all I want to do is throw myself into the sky, arms outspread.
But then the storm is silenced, and I can't bring myself to ask why, to admit to my addiction and rely on an understanding I don't know is there.
Is this a sign of weakness? Of love? I want to be able to be "just friends" if that's what she wants, because just sharing words so precious is an experience rare and sweet. But I simply don't know what she wants, if she understands me at all or even wants to try to understand me, and not knowing is driving me bonkers.
I want to know her. I want to understand her. And the only
thing that scares me is if she doesn't want the same.