One of my favorite activites has fallen by the wayside.
I once had a passion for video games that could not be quenched. The frequently fluctuating images held me enthralled for hours on end. When I was younger, nothing could get me up earlier than the new game in the living room that I had either just bought or rented. Five A.M. is an early wake up on a school day when the bus doesn't stop until 7:30, but it was a small price to pay for two whole hours with no distractions. The worst offenders were the games that didn't have passwords to continue, or batteries to back up saved games. Some of these could be left on the shelf, but others, such as Blaster Master, feel like the one that got away.
Lately I haven't found a game that could get me up before work. It could be that I find it easier to stay up late than get up early. The last game that kept me wanting to play was Halo. Anyone who has played this game knows that it's superb gameplay is backed up by an exceptional plot, and a healthy dose of physical comedy. The week that I rented Halo was an exercise in sleep deprivation, because I was only getting about two hours of sleep before going back to work. It played like a good book: just one more chapter, then I'll go to bed.
I'm not sure if it is the choice of games on my shelf, or the lack of time management, but I haven't touched a game in at least two weeks. I think of them often, because many of them are highly regarded titles, but when I do, I can't decide which one to play. I've also played on the good system in the living room, and it's hard to go back to the cheap system in the spare bedroom. I set the cheap system up as a late-night haven to crawl into when my night-owlishness takes hold. It's a place where I can make noise without waking the Mrs., but it's barely half the quality of my main system. In fact, I'm spending good gaming time right now to get these thoughts down. Lack of proper seating also diminishes the gaming experience. I need a decent chair to slouch down into while immersing myself in the worlds displayed before me by the flickering phosphors.
I guess you could call me a game-oholic. I've got an itch that could use some scratchin', but life has gotten in the way. On the plus side, I've started reading a lot more. That's really where my spare time has gone lately. Of course some books can keep me up into the wee hours of the morning, too. I guess I'm just helpless in the throes of my addictions.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Personality Traits
Some recent conversations have got me thinking about...me.
Who am I? I know who I am, but how do other people see me? I try not to think about it too much. After all, I'm just the guy behind the lens who is trying to be as non-descript as possible. I consider myself somewhat shy. Meeting new people is not high on my list of favorite activities, because I have a horrible time remembering names. Seriously, it's nearly instantaneous, unless I make a concentrated effort, then it might last until the end of the day. The news business is not for someone who suffers from social paralysis at the thought of meeting new people, but I thought, "Hey, I'll just make pretty pictures, I won't have to talk to anyone." Oops. I found out the hard way that I have to do just as much talking as the people who get paid to do it, sometimes more.
This is where my recent ruminations begin. A certain blonde reporterette and I were cruisin' FEMAville. We were looking for someone with a wind vs. water claim from the storms, and our sure-thing interview had fallen off the radar. We soon discovered that most of the people you find at 11:30 a.m. on a weekday in a FEMA park are not homeowners. We were adrift on a sea of people, so Cassie began dialing for a lifeline.
Movement at the periphery of my vision drew my focus, and I turned to see a kindly woman strolling toward my window with a hopeful, questioning look on her face. A push of a button lowered my glass barrier while I fervently hoped that Cassie would end her call before I had to do too much talking. No such luck.
Long story short: her sound makes the whole package work. To hear Cassie tell it, the woman didn't have a chance once I turned on the charm.
This week one of my glass-toting bretheren suggests that I would make a good news director. He says that I would be a natural, since I'm a fair person and have a good way with people. I must admit that I've kicked around the notion of dropping back a few markets and giving it a shot, but I don't currently feel that I've got the experience to take the helm of a newsroom in this sea of information.
Sure, I can get along with just about anyone, but I don't feel like it's anything special. I just keep my mouth shut until I have something relevant to say. Apparently I've always been that way, because my mother says that I didn't speak until I could form complete sentences.
So, if others perceive me as a decent human being with an easy smile and natural charm, I guess I'll have to live with it.
Who am I? I know who I am, but how do other people see me? I try not to think about it too much. After all, I'm just the guy behind the lens who is trying to be as non-descript as possible. I consider myself somewhat shy. Meeting new people is not high on my list of favorite activities, because I have a horrible time remembering names. Seriously, it's nearly instantaneous, unless I make a concentrated effort, then it might last until the end of the day. The news business is not for someone who suffers from social paralysis at the thought of meeting new people, but I thought, "Hey, I'll just make pretty pictures, I won't have to talk to anyone." Oops. I found out the hard way that I have to do just as much talking as the people who get paid to do it, sometimes more.
This is where my recent ruminations begin. A certain blonde reporterette and I were cruisin' FEMAville. We were looking for someone with a wind vs. water claim from the storms, and our sure-thing interview had fallen off the radar. We soon discovered that most of the people you find at 11:30 a.m. on a weekday in a FEMA park are not homeowners. We were adrift on a sea of people, so Cassie began dialing for a lifeline.
Movement at the periphery of my vision drew my focus, and I turned to see a kindly woman strolling toward my window with a hopeful, questioning look on her face. A push of a button lowered my glass barrier while I fervently hoped that Cassie would end her call before I had to do too much talking. No such luck.
Long story short: her sound makes the whole package work. To hear Cassie tell it, the woman didn't have a chance once I turned on the charm.
This week one of my glass-toting bretheren suggests that I would make a good news director. He says that I would be a natural, since I'm a fair person and have a good way with people. I must admit that I've kicked around the notion of dropping back a few markets and giving it a shot, but I don't currently feel that I've got the experience to take the helm of a newsroom in this sea of information.
Sure, I can get along with just about anyone, but I don't feel like it's anything special. I just keep my mouth shut until I have something relevant to say. Apparently I've always been that way, because my mother says that I didn't speak until I could form complete sentences.
So, if others perceive me as a decent human being with an easy smile and natural charm, I guess I'll have to live with it.
Monday, October 09, 2006
My Parents Are Dead
Don't freak out or anything, because they are perfectly fine. This is just the title of a "sprawling, six-page, epic."
I hope y'all like it as much as I do.
FACE!
I hope y'all like it as much as I do.
FACE!
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