aceofkittens

The roommate has taken her sea-farin' man and her clingy cat and set off for their latest adventure -- a drive to CT for the holidays.

The apartment is so bleak and empty; I am pining. I miss them. The cat didn't want to go. She tried to hide in my bed for help. She knows who gives out treats around here! Sigh. :( They'll be back -- but not soon enough.

I'm so sleepy and tired, but have to do stuff on the game, not to mention the fact that I should clean and sort stuff. I also need to work on more intellectual pursuits and get a jumps start on what I have to be writing, but all I want to do is lie there and kind of stare at the wall.

This sudden resurgence in LJ posts -- what could it mean?

Well, for one, I'm sick, and want to grouse about it. Toward evening, I feel yuckier. I slept these last few hours. I don't remember the dreams though. Probably a good thing, all things considered.

The girl cats keep fighting. Why can't they all just get along? How soon before someone pees on my stuff?

I'm very cranky and feeling very apathetic about everything, especially the game. I don't really want to do anything on there. I've spent (wasted?) so much time on that puppy. What do I get from it? Aggravation? Frustration?

Ah well. Let's see how tonight's mix of booze & Comtrex fares inside my belly!

I was up pretty late judging this thing on the game. We got through round one of the big combat, so it's a good thing I set two nights aside for it, but now I am thinking maybe I should have been less optimistic and set aside three or four nights for it. This is the kind of scene that takes forever on a MUSH and getting people there for it is half the battle. Literally.

I know I am a soft, marshmallowy GM, because I don't like combat, I prefer psychological torture. I don't like PKing people in combat, and I think it's lame if one bad roll of the dice dooms a character that someone's been playing for a long time. At the same time, if someone is stupid and rolls badly, I am a lot less merciful. But anyway, I have sworn to myself that I will let the dice decide; if people die, so be it. Now, to get a grip on the guilt.

Anyway, after the scene, I stayed up for another hour reading Storm of Swords some more, and let me tell you, GRRM is one fucked up man.

I was having a dream that I was trying to fly to Boston to see my friend. There was some sort of special weekend fare for $300, but by the time I got the the airport, it was $670. I realized that all I had with me was my backpack, and apparently I hadn't packed anything I would need. I was trying to explain this to the clerks at the counter, who were only going to charge me $300 to start, and bill the rest later. I was crying that I couldn't afford a $670 ticket and feeling confused all of a sudden about where I was actually going...

Then the phone rang. It was probably a decent enough hour, but I'm never at my most coherent when the phone rings and I am deeply asleep. It was the main line, which is in the roommate's name. I kind of would like to stop paying her for it, because I no longer use it to make any outgoing calls and I can train the two or three people who actually call me to use my cell phone instead.

"Hello, (roommate), this is Professor McClitoris...

SAY WHAT?!!

"...and I'm calling about..."

HE DID NOT SAY THAT!

"....bla bla bla bla..."

It sounded like it could have been an actual phone call, but most likely a telemarketer of some sort, but I know the roommate has been looking into doing some sort of class teaching at the Learning Annex, so... plus, I was asleep. But the guy seemed to be slipping subliminal sexual messages into his pitch. My fuzzy mind turned things over. Professor Mc... surely, I had misheard.

"I'm sorry, (roommate) isn't home right now, would you like to leave a message?"
"Who am I speaking with? What's your name?"
"This is just (roomate)'s roommate." (Oh, I learned long ago never to give my name!)
"Well, maybe you'd be interested in this opportunity to spread yourself out...

And I don't remember exactly what he said next, but I realized that for sure he was slipping in subliminal obscene comments in between his pitch, so I hung up and went back to sleep.

I hate bastards who prey on people's tendency to be polite on the phone. The roommate gets so many obscene phone calls and I invariably reap the "benefits." But that's a story for another time.

I had a lot of ranty things to say this morning, but I had to run out to an appointment, and now that I am back from it, I'm drained and tired. But I still kind of want to rant, so what the hell.

I think that what I have begun to understand, more and more, is that no matter what we say, it's almost impossible to get through to other people. People will still hear what they want to hear, and it doesn't matter if that's what you actually said or not. So I guess the idea is to find people who already think the same as you do and that way, you don't have to keep dashing yourself against the blank wall of miscommunication.

Bitter much?

In an online RPing context, this boils down to: people don't read, people don't pay attention, then they choose to blame other people for the kind of miscommunication/lack of information sharing that is inherent to the MUSH medium. I'm tired of having to go in and spank people with my firm butt-loving hand. I'm tired of dick-waving assholes who think power-gaming is cool.

In a real world context, I am tired of fighting with various people in my life. Mainly, myself.

On a lighter note, something's been dying in the fridge for some time, can't figure out what. Secretly seething against the roommate who likes to "forget" about her spoiling food for weeks at a time. Driving back from the appointment, I was on the phone with my friend (yes, bad me, driving and talking, screw you) and had the following coversation:

Friend: I had mashed potatoes for lunch from KFC. Not the best, but..
Me: Yes, their mashed potatoes are ok. I like their biscuits and corn. Mmm... corn, I'd love to have some cor... Aaaaaaaaaugh, corn!!

I suddenly recalled that I bought three ears of corn last week and put them in the cripser and forgot all about them. Could this be the mysterious reek?

It'd make a great story full of irony if the bad smell had, indeed, been due to my poor corn, but ha ha! It wasn't.