. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Friday, August 31

 

A week of Megabubble...

Just arrived back in Omaha last night, exhausted but in a wonderful mood. I just spent the last week with Brandon, teh Megabubble. WOOT!

I was so anxious when I met him at the airport. My heart was pounding as soon as the plane hit the runway, and I knew THEN I was in P fucking A (Pennsylvania, ya noobs). I called Brandon and we stayed on our cells until I was at the baggage claim. I TRIED to sneak down the stairs on the left telling him I was on my way down the escalator on the right. No good, he didn't buy it after a ton of people had come down the escalator.

Leaning down I could see brown shoes, baggy jeans, and the polo shirt I had seen in his pictures. His "preppy shirt". I said "Oh shit!" in the phone and hung up, he was staring at me with a huuuuuuuuuuuuge grin on his face, so big his eyes went all Chinese and his face was beet red with nervousness. My hands were shaking so bad I had to have him take my cell phone outta my hand. After a warm, tight hug, he said, "Gimme a kiss, peanutbutter." MMMMMMM good stuff.

After wandering around the parking garage, randomly making out and wondering where the hell we were walking, we made it to the car, only to get to the gate, and realize that he lost his parking ticket. Dear fucking christ the tools made him sign away his life, pay for four hours of parking; manager had to come over and "observe" it all. It was pretty entertaining to see Brandon all flustered like that. No worries though, RIGHT as we pulled away, he reached for his smokes, and POW the ticket fell out... omfg. (Oh, but I was a sweetheart and a few days later at his folks BBQ with the grandparents I let it slip that we lost the ticket at the parking garage..... woooo, that caused a ruckus.)

Friday we met his parents for dinner at Lone Star. I, of course, was terrified. What if his mom didn't like me?! He assured me it would be no big deal, she would be nice, his dad would be quiet... and ... sure enough he was right. Although I had to make an ass outta myself right off the bat by going for the handshake with his mom just as she put out her arms for a hug. Rather than pretend it wasn't awkward I pointed out my goof, and gave her a hug, too. =D

Next day, Saturday was the family BBQ, with the grandparents!! ACK! A few hours before we headed over we had Arby's.... BAD IDEA. When we showed up, Brandon's grandma called him by the pet name I call him "Chocolate", which of course made us both blush insanely. I also pretended I didn't hear it, so I wouldn't start giggling. I wasn't hungry, but I HAD TO EAT. I had to eat the folks' food, and chat with the grandparents.... I HAD to. Brandon sat next to me and stared at his food, I shut my brain off, smiled and ate a hamburger and fucking AMAZING Amish sausages and potato salad. I even ate Brandon's sausage (no pun in tended), because he appeared to be in such pain from being full...I survived, the heat, and the interrogations from Pop-Pop, Brandon's grandpa. Waaaaay too much food was cooked for 7 adults, and 3 kids, but other than me knocking my head on the chandelier above the kitchen table, I did good.

Sunday we went to Duffer's to watch the pre-season Eagles (er... Iggles) game on their big screen. We won't mention who lost....OOOOH, and I saw a Phillies game, and they CAME FROM BEHIND, BABY!! Fuckin Mets. Wow, being in Philly seriously made me hate Italian, fuckin dago New Yorkers... omfg. Walking stereotypes of gold chain-wearing, wanna be thug-talking greasy Italians. I'm fuckin Italian, so ya ima talk shit about the dagos..WOW.

For some reason we had very odd experiences while eating at restaurants. Went to Macaroni Grill one night for dinner and nearly covered the tablecloth with pictures of space men, x-rated games of Hangman, and profiles of deformed and retarded people. Ya we were sober, too. Another afternoon we were at Arby's and sat in a booth, next to two, close to middle-aged guys, probably gamers and/or computer nerds who were quiet, until we started eating our food....THEN.....we were entertained for 20 minutes with random statements like:

Steve Jobs knows that the aliens are controlling the internet ya know. The government says space travel isn't possible. Aliens are actually watching us through the internet, it's been around forever, but they're just now harnessing its power to control us. ETC. ETC. ETC. Steve fucking Jobs. Aliens. Government. The Internet. It was AWESOME. I almost inhaled my roast beef I was laughing so hard. It was insane.

THEN omg we went to the Golden Castle Diner, in Delaware. We were so close to the state line, we went to Delaware almost every day. "Hi...I'm in Delaware." My mom asked me what was Delaware like, what we did. I told her "Well, there is a Target..." But this night we went at like 2am, total drunken diner run, right? They not only had NO tomato soup to compliment my grilled cheese sammich, but their version of french onion soup literally tasted like they had poured dirty dish water into a bowl and thrown some over-sauteed onions into the mix for "texture". I took one bite and was just disgusted. Our potato skins were fucking BURNT and of course... a booth full of drunken dagos was nearby. The waiter came by and had the courage to ask how everthing was; after telling him my soup was the worst french onion I had ever had, and that it was so disgusting, I asked him if he was gonna charge me for it. He said he wouldn't, he'd take it off the bill... which ALMOST ALMOST made us feel guilty about hiding the ketchup bottle cap at the bottom of my cup of soup, under the congealed mozzarella cheese.

And of course I couldn't leave Philly without a real cheese steak, not the steak subs that you get in New York, but a REAL cheese steak. We split one, and an Italian hoagie at Tom's Deli. Why Tom's? Couple of reasons: 1) La Spada was out of rolls.... OUT OF ROLLS?? Deli outta rolls? whoa. 2) I needed to see the Nillas of Aston, PA in full effect. They were there, wife beaters, chains, and some fat girl talking about cars on the stool at the deli counter. HILARIOUS.

Most of our week was spent hangin out watching TV, talking and generally hanging out and trashing the hotel room....that poor housekeeper after us staying in that room for a week. Brandon spilled citrus Altoids all over the carpet near the window, making it a shoes-only zone; otherwise you'd be stuck with sugar bits all over your feet. The beer bottles were stacked up 2 boxes high (TY Lion's Head), and the leftover condoms we put near the "Good Book" for a surprise.

I laughed more, smiled more and was happier than I had been in years. Years. My Chocolate made it wonderful, and it's only the beginning. I just got a taste of Brandon, just a glimpse, but I'm looking forward to more, so much more.

I have like ZERO sober pictures of us... apparently we get camera happy when we're tipsy... here ya go.. Lynnwood and Megabubble. Eat your fucking heart out...

Brandon thank you for a perfect week. <3

Lynnette 12:52 PM

Monday, August 20

 

I'm 2 days away from visiting the land of Bloodhound Gang, Jackass, and the Megabubble. Leave Wednesday, come back next Thursday...

A little nervous, mostly anxious. Actually, scratch that... not nervous, just VERY fucking anxious and I want to be there like weeks ago.

There are a lot of things I keep worrying about, not about the trip, but when I come back... job, money, bills... and i need to remember to just ENJOY my week, let everything go for 7 days, and just be happy and have a good time.. I can do eeeeeeit!!

Hm. Here's a random picture. Sunset in Gig Harbor, Washington; view from the beach house I lived at briefly...

Lynnette 10:53 AM

 

After midnight, which means 2 days to Megabubble.....

Lynnette 1:49 AM

Sunday, August 19

 

Three Days!!!

Wooot! Now if I could just get enough sleeeeeeep, I'd be fine and dandy. I can't sleep past 10am these days.... It's the light coming in from the basement window... If I wake up and it's light out, I have to wait until midafternoon to take a nap.. cuz that's ya know.. nap time.

Hm.. If I go upstairs right now, The Price is Right will be on... hm. I can nap later.. yessssss

3 days!

Lynnette 10:00 AM

Thursday, August 16

 

I am fucking tired, again.

Drank a few too many, again. If I keep up this rate, drinking will make me fat. It needs to be curbed. I need to also never bum another smoke from anyone, ever. I smoked a pack with my crackbaby when I was in Denver last week, and it took me days to recover. Ugh... just bad news bears.

Had a couple weird dreams last night... but I'm too lazy to type them out. Eh.. I'll skim over them.

First one I was at a restaurant of some type, a LOT of people from high school were there like Brad Buresh? WTF? I haven't talked to that guy since like 6th grade or some shit. So everyone was hanging out in the booths, chatting with their cliques, but I was all alone. Oddly enough I didn't really care all that much; most of them were still high school age in my dream, gossipy, annoying, and I didn't want anything to do with them. I remember walking around the place listening to conversations and not finding anything that was worth stopping for... It was also Christmastime; and there was mistletoe everywhere. ONE girl, I forget who she was, insisted on showing me her text message she got from an ex bf that was a picture of mistletoe and said "hee hee". I didn't get their inside joke/insult or whatever, so I'm like "huh weird" and walked away.

The second one, was me talking on the phone with my Aunt Kay's bf, the one who let me stay in his beach house when I was in Washington. He was talking my fucking EAR off about "You are a beautiful woman, you can do anything you want, you are talented, just stay confident in yourself and you can do whatever you want." Strangely, that's how he talks to me. And my Aunt just sits back and agrees with him. He's sort of this hippie kinda guy... his house had fucking green shag carpeting yo!. Oh fuck I gotta post a pic of that shit..

Once I was getting ice for my pop (hehehe "soda") and I found a bag of pot in his ice bin. No ice, just a bag of pot. Buds and all.. i'm like Holy FUCK......... Better yet there was one, really really old joint already rolled up. Smoked that shit. Barely got me buzzed it was so fucking old.. hehe But ya.. pot in the ice bin. Crazy.

I need some scrambled eggs with cheese, a glass of milk, and a piece of buttered toast now. If you'll please excuse me.

Lynnette 10:49 AM

Wednesday, August 15

 

So I met this guy. First time I really remember taking notice of him, he was wearing a Goblin Rocket Helmet, and owning AB. That's when I first remember thinking, "Damn, Megabubble is fuckin _awesome_ he thinks I'm noobsauce prolly."


He was always on, always awesome, always hilarious, and I had to get to know him. So I did. I went out of my _way_ to talk to him. I parked my ass in a city, and just sent him tells hoping he would respond. And.. he did. A lot. Then I found out we were both parked in a city talking to each other.


Then I lost the internet and was jonesin' so bad, he called me every day I didn't have the internet. Every day. For hours. I don't even know everything we talked about... anything? everything? Fuck it. No holds barred.


Long story short, (too late) I'll be in Philly in a week, spending a week with him there, and then coming back to Omaha to pay off my debt. That is my plan.


He's considerate, kind, thoughtful, a total perv, gorgeous fucking eyes omfg, practical, honest, patient, snorts when he laughs, and thinks I'm wonderful.

And ya know... that's all you bitches need to really know.

Lynnette 11:09 AM

 

Oh ya, I also found out this week that my ex bf Steve not only got married to the married woman he was having an affair with in Florida, but got her preggers as well.

And me? I just sit back and laugh.

Lynnette 10:58 AM

 

I hate money

Last night I went to bed a couple hours earlier than I have been lately. (Thank you, Brandon), and right away feel asleep. But was I blessed with heavenly dreams? Fuck no.

I dreamt that I was on the phone with the phone company and my cell phone provider, trying to figure out if it would be cheaper to lose my cell phone service and get land line instead. The land line was $24.95, and my cell phone is about $50 bucks a month.

Please please please go away money. I hate you, I hate hate hate you.

AND, AND, my parents were just told they have to replace their air conditioning unit... the _whole_ fucking thing. Here I am, a college educated woman, unable to help them financially, and not feeling like I'm doing enough to assist. I'm a bump on a log, a mooch, the family that came home to eat their food and beg for gas money.

I have a hard time being dependent upon people; it makes me feel greedy, selfish, and almost as if I'm taking advantage of them.



Another thing? I'm also very tired of people flipping me shit about Washington. This is what I'm getting:
~Ewww why are you in Omaha?
~What was that whole "Washington" thing about?
~Now that you're here, you can never leave. I refuse to ever go to another going away party.

My brother's wife told me that last one. She's ecstatic to have me back here, and I don't have the heart to tell her that I may have better things elsewhere. I am just here to visit family, friends, and pay off my debt. That's all. After that, I'm going to let things take me where they do. Like a reed on the river or some shit.

I have no food in my system, nor caffeine, so let the lame Asian proverb reference slide, k?

Lynnette 10:51 AM

Monday, August 13

 

I haven't been remembering my dreams lately... lack of sleep, stress? I don't fuckin know. But now and then they're starting to peek through.

Last night's was horrible. I dreamt I was living in Florida (ya I know it's already a fuckin nightmare), I was alone, and I mean ALONE. Not even my Kane Von Kaneykins to keep me company at the end of the day =(

I suddenly realized that I had a terminal illness. So what's the first thing I do? I cleaned up my fucking house.. everything... I was packing all my shit in boxes, cuz well.. after I died I didn't want anyone else to have to 1) bother with my stuff and 2) I hate people moving my shit. I HATE people touching and moving my shit.

So after I had my house packed up and cleaned, I took myself and my terminal illness to a place where I knew people.... or at least I thought I had friends/family, etc. I ended up in a room, with about 7 people. One of them was Princess Diana... I'm like WTF yo? Well I didn't say THAT to her... I actually hugged her and I remember saying "You are an amazing person. You're so kind. Thank you for being here." She just smiled at me... which made me feel better, even though I was gonna die within the hour or some shit.

(Why did Princess Di pop into my dream?!)

At any rate, I remember freaking out, panicking, trying to ask people to help me, and knowing, just knowing that I was doomed... I was going to die, alone, and there wasn't anything people could do about it.

I USED to have shark dreams when I was stressed out... SHARKS fucking coming at me from all angles, eating me slowly, limb by limb. But now... I'm thinking my moving dreams are taking their place. Moving is supposedly the second most stressful thing you can do in your life, next to losing your spouse. And me? I've done it a LOT lately... I just need to get back on my feet right now... financially I got raped. Raped. No vaseline, in a dark alley, just POW, and now I'm in debt again up to my ears. It's the source of most of my stress right now, and I'm struggling to find ways to get myself out of it. I should have come home a LONG time ago, I should have skipped Seattle entirely... what a waste of gas money. My cat is happy to be NOT in a car now, too.

For those of you that don't know it already, I moved back to Omaha. Seattle was far too expensive for me, and I had ZERO support system. After my hell time in Florida, I needed friends and family around. And bitches, btw, I SO did not move to fucking Washington to be with some guy... so stick it up your collective ass yo.

My other dream was very dirty, and will only be shared with the person who I dreamt about. Eat your heart out.

SO, folks, don't be hatin'. I'm in a better place now, I'm happier now.

Lynnette 12:16 PM

Friday, August 10

 

I'm going to see Brandon this month, and there's not a damned thing you can do about it.

Lynnette 5:16 PM

 

Why the Endgame Is Stupid

We've started to let our five-year old daughter Cordelia play World of Warcraft. She runs her cow-person around the starting town, hits birds and pretends that everyone she sees is her friend. We don't have to pay attention to her. Win-win all around.

The other day, I asked her if she was winning. She said, "Daddy! This is not a winning game! You can't win!"

Then I asked her what you do in the game instead. After some thought, she said, "Nothing." Sometimes children are wise beyond their years.

This column is a gesture of support to my fellow gamers, the hardcore, the people who live, eat and breathe role-playing games. You spend all your time playing them. I spend all my time writing them. Two vines that sprout from the same perverted seed. You may play a massively multiplayer RPG like EverQuest or World of Warcraft or whatnot. You play it a lot. You get to the maximum level, seeing lots of neat stuff along the way. But then, you hit the ceiling. The only way to advance is by raiding, or running through the same dungeon again and again, or spending many an hour working on your tradeskills, or doing PvP until all possible surprises have been drained from it and even your fellow humans are as predictable and tiring as the robotic enemies in the dungeons.

In other words, you have reached what is called endgame content. You're at the top, and the only way to get stronger involves many hours and much pain.

Here is some free advice for you.

Don't do it.

Endgame content is stupid.

Think about it. It's called endgame content for a reason. End. Game. You are at the END of the GAME. Why are you still playing!?!?!?

Once you are at the maximum level in a game, you put yourself in the most gruesome position imaginable. Your portion of the market is large enough that the game companies will continue to design the occasional degrading and time-consuming treadmill to keep your 15 bucks a month coming in. But your portion of the market is too small for them to actually care about you.

That means, among other things, poorly balanced raid dungeons that have received only the barest touch of a beta-tester's gentle hand. They will only test the mega-dungeon enough to make sure playing it won't actually launch the space bar on your keyboard into your carotid artery, and then it will be deemed non-broken enough to burn 80 hours of your life.

Don't like it? Try threatening to quit the game and see how far you get. Even if they believed you (and they don't), there are too few people like you for them to care.

There are many forces that will pull you to keep playing. You may want to support your guild and help other members to advance. You may want the glory of putting your accomplishments up on its website. But here's an ugly secret. Nobody who knows you through a game actually cares if you live or die.

If you stopped logging in one day, here is what would happen. Nothing. Then, two months later, someone would say, "Hey, what happened to Laygolas?" and someone else would say, "Dunno, dude. Whatever." And you would never be thought of again.

Meanwhile, you've spent two months slowly starving in your basement, trapped under the Alienware rig that fell on you, sustained only by the vermin you were able to lure into your mouth using your tongue as bait.

Thanks a lot, role-playing game.

You might continue to play out of an obsessive-compulsive desire to be the best, to beat everything, to WIN. This will never work. They own the treadmill. They can always make it longer. Remember EverQuest? It came out in 1999? Soon, it will have its FOURTEENTH expansion. The most recent one is so hard that, months after its release, only a teeny tiny portion of the surprisingly large number of people who still play that game have seen the end of it.

Are you determined to win the game, to show that you can beat every encounter? The people who collect your money love people like you. They will crush you.

And finally, you might be having fun. Hey, anything is possible. In between the constant death, the guild drama, the tedium, the doing the same dungeon dozens of times, and the hunting for money to repair damaged equipment, you might still have a few flashes of fun and excitement.
I can't argue with that. But you know something? You could be having more fun! It's your leisure time. Make the most of it!

When you stop being part of the happy masses and become part of the endgame, go to the next game. That fresh, exciting feeling when the world is new, you enter new areas all the time and you can actually be surprised occasionally... it can still happen! You can even gain levels again!!!

If you're playing World of Warcraft and you're level 70, stop. Get The Lord of the Rings: Legends of Angmar. It's fun. And when you're maxed out in that and you find that the treadmill goes ever on and on, from the road where it began? By that time, Conan or Warhammer or a new World of Warcraft expansion will be out, and one of those should be fun.

Learn from the wise. After a long break, Eddie, my 15-year old brother in law, is playing World of Warcraft again. He made a level one character. He has announced that he is going to burn his way top-speed to level 70 and see all the good stuff. And then, he is going to quit and get on with his life.

I tell you. Wise beyond their years.

~Jeff VogelSpiderweb Software
article found here

Lynnette 11:02 AM