Gameworks: The Place to Be an Oversized Child

I discovered Gameworks at a very late age. Actually, it was about three weeks ago. Most people I have talked to about Gameworks say, "Oh wow, I haven't been there since I was like twelve!". I am twenty three. I found it to be most satisfying in every way. There is food, drinks, and games... so many games. So, upon this amazing discovery, I decided to make it a point to gather up my newfound Seattle friends and a few of my old friends (and by old I mean that I have loved them for longer) and make them join me for a night of gaming awesomeness.

Last night was only the second gathering of what I hope will become at least a twice a month ordeal. It's just the perfect place to hang out and socialize. And reign terror on whoever challenges me at Air hockey. I'm just sayin'.

Here's a little peek into what our night looked like:

I take my air hockey very seriously. In fact, I am bound to have bruises the morning following a thorough air hockey tournament like the one we had last night. It's from all the thrusting into the machine to hit the pucks that land in the middle. I never notice how hard I am actually doing it until later when I am extremely sore. The adrenaline rush from my competitive nature makes it impossible to pay attention to anything but the the little man in my head screaming "WIN WIN WIN!!!". And I do my best not to disappoint.

My Life is Reality T.V.

The following entry has been rated PG-13, due to some sexual content and violence.

I need to set something straight. Ha, that line is funny to me because I just happen to know what I am going to be writing today. You'll understand later, I promise. So, as I was saying, I need to set something straight. The friend that I mentioned in my last entry, Alden, is actually not my 'gay' best friend per say. Gay is my way of saying extremely platonic. With that being said, my friend Alden is one of the straightest guys I know, even though he dresses way too nice and likes to dance way too much for most of society to believe that he is.

And now, for the story.

It was a Friday evening, and I was feeling the urge. I needed to bust a move. Thank goodness for Alden, who is always down to bust a move. Little did I know that this particular evening, he would prove just how awesome of a move-buster he actually is.

We put on the glam, partook in a little pre-game, and set out on a long cold walk to a club called "R Place".

When we arrived, the club was low key. Of course it was only 8:30 p.m., and so we had time to get comfortable, and enjoy some conversing over some drinks. Alden, whiskey 'n' coke in hand, led the way to the third floor of the club and I followed, my rum 'n' coke in hand. On the top floor, we found the dance floor to be covered in chairs pointing towards a stage. We settled at a table behind all those chairs and waited for something exciting to happen.

Almost two hours, a few drinks, and many deep conversations later, a very elaborate dragqueen stepped on stage and started the show. Surprise!

I have to say, those ladies know how to put on a show! After the first song was over, the hostess dragqueen called out to the crowd to send up a straight girl. They found a skinny, timid looking girl and brought her up. Then, of course, the hostess asked for a hardcore lesbian and found a vibrant, confident lesbian to come up and then dance with the straight girl in front of the audience. Next, of course, the hostess asked for a straight male. Since I am such a nice person, I made it really easy for her to find her victim. I began screaming "He's straight!! He is soooo straight!!" and violently pointing at Alden. A couple people on the other side of Alden caught on and began helping me, pointing aggressively and screaming about how straight he is. The hostess recognized our ape-like gestures and called Alden to the stage. Then, she asked for, and I quote, "the gayest boy here". And if the boy she pulled up was not the 'gayest', he was pretty darn close.

Wondering what happened next? Then, you should watch this video:

In case you can't understand because I am freaking out audibly, the hostess definitely says something like "now that's some shit", and "this is NOT your first time at the rodeo". I was dying a little bit during all of this.

I actually had a guy approach me and say how disappointed he was that I spread the news that Alden was straight because he had been "eye-balling" him all evening. Sorry, bud!

So, R Place gets a thumbs up for making our weekend adventure successful, and Alden gets a thumbs up for showing up the gay boys with his ultimate moves!

Where do I begin?

There is a very insane gap in between my last post and this one. Why is that? Well my laptop took a giant crap and never quite recovered from it.

So, at long last, I have a computer in my lap once more, even if it is a dell (ick).

I have no idea where to start, I have so many things to relate to the world. There is way too much information for me to share details, which kills me as I am a girl who loves excessive details, so I am going to create a list of must-knows about my life.

1. I moved out of the Webhouse and parted ways with my two beloved roommates Paul and Josh

2. I turned 23 (ewwww)

3. My baby sister went away to the Airforce one week after my birthday

4. I spontaneously moved to Seattle to escape the grips of Bellingham

5. I quit my job

6. I got a new job working at the Grand Central Bakery in the Pioneer Square which is the very heart of Seattle

7. My xbox got the red ring of death in the middle of Resident Evil 5

There you have it. At least that's all that came to mind instantly.

I have been 'hardening' myself up here in the city since August. It's been really interesting so far. I ride a bus to work most days that take me in a giant tunnel underneath the city and I have to ride a couple sets of escalators to get to the surface and walk through bum-infested streets to arrive at my place of employment. It is extremely different from every living situation I have ever been in. I do love the city, but I have always resided in the country. I actually considered Bellingham a city at one point in my life. A lot of it is a little scary to me, but no worries, I've developed a habit of carrying a knife with me. Not that it will save me if I get attacked, cause I gotta say, my slashing skills are mainly awesome only if I'm holding a controller. But it does give me some level of comfort, even if very tiny.

I miss everyone back in Bellingham a lot and I am glad I live only a two hour drive away so visiting is not extremely inconvenient.

This is a strange new scene for me and I have just recently decided that I am going to start documenting the exciting things I decide to do. Well... not all exciting things. Just the things that are internet-appropriate, if you know what I mean. ;)

I have a partner in crime that should be mentioned. He is my gay best friend, Alden. He is going to be accompanist on most ridiculous adventures I embark on.

Don't worry, I won't let my blog get gapped out again. I'll keep it nice and tight and updated. Get ready, Interwebbers, because my life is hella interesting!

The Long Lost Poem

My life is a very curvy road at the moment. I am tossing a thousand decisions around over my head, and it is impossible to decide which one is the right one for right now. But one thing, I have decided. I need less stuff. Less 'stuff' as in materialistic items. I need less furniture, I need less clothes, I need less books, less home decor, less dishes and kitchen utensils... just less of anything that takes up space.

Five years ago, before I moved out of my parents' house, I was obsessed with collecting items that furthered me in my home-making plans. I saved a mini food processor that I got in a random Christmas gift exchange for five years because as a teenager living at home, it was my ultimate fantasy to be an adult and have a home of my own in which I did all the things that domestic women do. (No offense against domestic-ish women. It's not necessarily a bad thing.)

You might say that I accomplished my goal a couple of years later, when I finally moved into my very first apartment. I had everything a home could possible need and more! After every shelf was cluttered, every closet stuffed, and every cupboard bursting, I still had boxes and boxes of things stacked by the door to drop off at Value Village.

Now, I am living in a rather large home, and somehow I found a way to fill every room with things even though my house is four times the size of my apartment. How do I manage that? I still don't have a logical answer. I can tell you one thing, though. Moving out of that little apartment was a big pain. I had to rent a mini storage while I was in between homes, and there was absolutely no room left in that storage unit when I was done. I even had to sneak the last couple of rubber maid tubs into my parents' attic space because they would not fit in there.

All those events bring me to where I am now, which is dumbfounded with the realization that I have a lot of crap! My lease for my wonderful big home is up in a little less than two months, and I have moving to look forward to again. I guess when I was young, I did not really think that I would be one of those people that would move around a lot, thus having a lot of stuff would not be such a bad thing. Then again, there are a lot of things you do not discover about yourself until you actually get out on your own and taste independence.

For the past few weeks, I have been confronting the long awaiting chore of weeding through all my junk and getting rid of all the things I don't need. I started with rubber maid tubs full of memorabilia that I have saved all my life. Cards given to me from every holiday since I was born, every single letter from every single pen pal I ever had (and I had more than you can count on two hands. Yup, I was (am) a nerd.), poems, certificates, homework assignments I was especially proud of, pictures friends drew for me or pictures I drew, tons of photo doubles I will probably never do anything with, and the list goes on. As I was going through all this, I wondered to myself why I thought it necessary to keep all those ridiculous Hallmark cards with signatures in them. I mean, it's not like a lot of thought went into them. I suppose I have a bad case of Pack Rat Syndrome.

However, there were a few surprises in the midst of all the garbage, which brings me to the topic that formed my title, "The Long Lost Poem". As I was reading through all the scraps of paper jammed into various pee chee folders, I found a particular crumpled up piece of paper.

Now, here's a question for writers: Have you ever found a piece of writing that you created long after it was written and you had forgotten the words, the meaning, the feelings, and all the details pertaining to that particular piece of writing? And then, you read it and it is as if someone wrote something absolutely amazing that describes how you feel perfectly and you blush because you realize that it was you that wrote it and you are just being prideful? It's always so weird, as if you just bonded with yourself, or revived some part of yourself that you thought was gone and buried long ago. Well, that happened to me.

So here it is, the Long Lost Poem. It did not have a title, it was written on a plain piece of notebook paper, and it was crumpled up as if I was going to throw it away but decided better of it and held on to it (Ha! Imagine that! Me, holding on to something!).

Fear.

Draped across my glazed eyes, fighting optimism like life depended on it. Like liquid filling my lungs, like fire spreading from my throat to my brain.

A stupid thing.

Comfort from positivity.

A human thing.

A soul thing.

An animal instinct.

Euphoria.

Granted in the midst of my most hated personality flaws. Satisfaction only possible while it is tangible. Going too far away so instant gratification is impossible.

Impossible because I am impossible. Some say I chose to be this way, but truth is, I don't.

Sometimes I long for a simple mind. To just 'be' simply because I exist. No puzzles, confusion, pain. Just basic survival.

But, no.

This way hurts more, but when there is a breakthrough there is nothing more perfect, save God.

Light is the brightest to those who remain in the dark the longest. Those that spend most their lives in the light will never understand the potential intensity of that which they dwell in.

And there it is.

This may not seem like the most amazing thing ever written, but it caught me, and I saw myself. It gave me a new appreciation for what I have, and made me remember where I've been. I saw a piece of me that I don't think I can get rid of.

And so on goes my life story. Who knows where I'll end up next?

I Hate the Holidays. Mostly. (On a brighter note, hurray for the New Year!)

So... it's finally over.

If December were a person, it would be a bitter mid-aged woman. She would wear too much make up and wear clothes you only find in stores on Hollywood Boulevard. Bags of skin would reside under her glazed over blue eyes that once held beauty beyond a clear night sky. She would scarcely be seen without a cigarette dangling between her lips and her forehead would weave a wrinkled map of a thousand worries that have worn her down over the years. Her blond hair would be flawless, her teeth brilliant as she smiled. Not a real smile, of course, but the kind where you pull your lips apart just enough for it to look like you are smiling. Not the kind of smile where your mouth is agape and little indentations appear across your face and your cheeks press into your eyes making them a bit smaller.

My December was all sorts of bad. From being very sick to holiday stress. I tell you what, I am so glad it's over. I missed quite a bit of work due to my sickness. December is such an inconvenient month to get sick and miss work in. It's the most expensive month of the year. Christmas party supplies, Christmas decorations, Christmas food, gas money driving around to all the different places you go on the holidays, not to mention the presents. Christmas is a drainer for sure. I was very upset this year because I was broke when it came to buying gifts, and I hate receiving when I have nothing to give. I love giving people presents, and it was tough to not be able to participate in the giving side for the most part. Besides the sickness and financial difficulties, there is the well-known dread of being around certain relatives. I am not in any way trying to say that everyone hates being around their family. I am just pointing out that there are a couple of bad eggs in every family that are not very pleasant to spend time around, and they usually show up around, let's say, Christmas Day or so.

I miss being a kid and loving Christmas. I have had this conversation a few years in a row now. The magic and joy of Christmas has withered away in my life, and I feel like my appreciation for the meaning of Christmas is drowned out in a hullabaloo of holiday commercialism madness. When you're a kid, that whole 'how the presents get there' thing is not an issue. You are just so excited for Christmas to come so you can get and give presents, eat delicious food, hang out with your family, gorge on stocking stuffer candies, listen to the story about Baby Jesus, and wonder if Santa is really real.

I don't want to seem ungrateful for what I have. I am so thankful that I have family and friends that love me very much and want to spend time with me on the holidays expressing that love. I gladly reciprocate it... usually. This year, however, I was still pretty sick on Christmas, and perhaps this year I was one of the 'bad eggs' that was no fun to be around. Unfortunately, I was not even well enough on Christmas to muster up an appetite for all the amazing food there was to eat. That was one of the saddest parts.

Moving on. Yes, I am totally done whining about my horrible December. Relieved? Thought so.

The week after Christmas was actually pretty fun. A friend of mine from Sweden came to stay at my house for a week and a half to visit the West Coast of the USA for the first time. Although it was lots of fun having him around, it was definitely not stress-free. As his host, I felt very compelled to organize my friend's time at my home. I wanted to plan entertainment for every day, and it was quite overwhelming to attempt to execute those plans without overworking myself, especially since I was recovering from being very sick and very stressed out from the holidays. We were only able to follow through on about half of my plans, but that's alright because he convinced me that he had a good time anyway.

And then came New Years Eve.

Unlike Christmas, I loved New Years this year. I hosted an amazing New Years party at the good ole Web House. To summarize, there was lots of dancing, karaoke (aka drunken singing to all sorts of pop songs), eating, drinking, laughing, crying (I can't prove that one, but is it hard to believe after I mentioned 'drunken singing?'), more dancing, more singing, chocolate cake, seeing how many people we could fit in the sauna, and there was even a point in the night when Petey the Pirate Pinata had C.P.R. performed on him because he definitely had a broken arm and definitely needed some reviving.

And so here we all are, in the new year.

Hopefully 2009 holds some turns for the better. Inauguration Day is only a couple days away. I am a little bit excited to see some changes. I am so sick and tired of the word "economy" appearing in the headlines of every newspaper. I work in a Bagel shop and even we, in our humble little store, have had to cut the store hours and cut shift lengths. I was mentioning this to a few different customers today, and they were absolutely blown away by the fact that even we were affected by the ever saddening state of our economy. I have never really lived in fear of not being able to make enough money, but I have reached that point. One little funny fact that is a side affect of the whole hours being cut ordeal... some of the Bagel shop employees have NEVER been so efficient with their work as they have been this past week because everyone is afraid that they will get laid off when (if) things get worse. I found this kind of amusing, to know that so many people I thought were slackers have the potential to be really good workers if they so choose to be. funny how that works out. Maybe this rough patch is a good thing in some ways. Character building, at least. Myself not excluded.

Happy New Year, everyone. May this year bring nothing but the best it can to everyone's life.