I Love Beaker!
These two videos had me laughing pretty hard.
BONUS! Feist on Sesame Street singing a special rendition of her song “1 2 3 4″.
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These two videos had me laughing pretty hard.
BONUS! Feist on Sesame Street singing a special rendition of her song “1 2 3 4″.
It sometimes amazes me how my subconscious works insidiously behind my back. I suppose that is the nature of the subconscious: to provide subtle hints toward true motives and emotions.
I am a big proponent of the well thought out mixtape. I derive great joy in modelling a mix around both the tastes of a person as well as a theme. Sometimes the theme can be as simple as a pregame mix or as complicated as a story told through song. For me to make a mixtape for someone usually takes between three days to a week. I’ve even had a mix take two weeks before I finally thought it was complete.
Yes, you could say I take a mixtape too seriously. In some ways, I would agree. But to me, handing someone a mixtape is like saying, “Hi, my name is Mattie and this is who I am right now.” I’m just now realizing how true that statement is.
I’ve been looking back at the playlists to various Matsie Mixes from the past few years. (Yes, I name and number every mix I make for someone.) After looking at the songs put on different mixes for different people at different times, I can see subtle hints as to how I felt at that time. Emotions that I only realized later, rather than actively feeling them.
In a mix I made for a friend last year, I can hear the distrust I had for that friend make itself evident in the music I chose. I didn’t come to grips and address this distrust until several months later.
A mix I made several years ago for a very close friend hinted at the fear I had of losing this friend. All this unbenknownst to me until quite recently.
Perhaps this is a case of perfect hindsight. That is very possible. But I do find it fascinating that despite all the effort I put into conveying a specific message in a mix that another almost subliminal message can be found.
I hate World of Warcraft. I loathe World of Warcraft. It is the bane of my existence. No, it’s not because of a ruined past relationship or the slow deterioration of a friend’s social life. It’s because it sucks me in.
I used to ridicule those who play WoW. They were losers with no lives, right? Come on, can’t you have a social life outside of a game?! Then I found out I was wrong. After the coaxing of a friend, I downloaded the free trial of WoW with him and we played together. I was the one who ended up playing after the free trial was over. He moved back to Counterstrike (which I love).
So there I was, friendless in a foreign land. I would grind and quest all by my lonesome. Soon I became frustrated. I wanted to have an impact on the world around me. I wanted the quests I did to matter, damnit! I wanted to be the hero or the villian, not just a player! Alas, my insatiable desire for meaning was never found in Azeroth and I stopped playing in December.
So here I am, after the coaxing of a few friends trying WoW out again. Again, I am getting that instant zeal for the game that I had when I first started playing nine months ago. Unfortunately, I feel that if the social aspect of WoW doesn’t begin to appear for me, I will put the game down for good. I’ve realized the reason I liked playing WoW when I started that free trial was because I was playing with a friend. Otherwise, the futility of the game overwhelms me and I give up.
What will be the result of my recent foray into Azeroth? Will I become addicted and give up all real world social engagements? Will I ding level 70? Will I get frustrated and give up? Only time and my level of geekery will tell.
The last few minutes before boarding a plane can be the most stressful. I definitely felt that way on Saturday. I knew I was forgetting something, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I went through my mental checklist one by one.
Yes, I shut down the computer.
Yes, I set the alarm.
Yes, I have my money.
I thought I was going crazy before I boarded my plane bound for Amsterdam. It was like a sardine can: a sardine can with a really nice entertainment center. I was sitting next to an obnoxious blonde bound for Kenya. With a sigh, I got up to go to the bathroom once the plane was stable. When I returned to my seat, someone else was sitting next to me.
I didn’t bother asking questions. Luckily for me, my new rowmate was very nice and fun to speak with. Then there was Amsterdam and my lethargy. Good food, though! After a bit in Amsterdam, I was on a plane again and in no time I was in Poland. Half asleep and feeling exhausted from travelling, I arrived at my grandmother’s home. Another hour or two of conversation and I was dead tired. My grandmother shows me to my room and reminds me where the toilet and showers are and then I finally get a chance to sleep.
Shit! Where are my pajamas!?