Monday, February 20, 2006
I suck at video games
It seems that the universe is trying to teach me something. Something profound. Something so important that fate gave me several chances to learn it. That something? That I suck at video games. Now, I sort of knew this. I have childhood memories of our various Atari systems (remember waiting ages for games to load from a cassette tape? And the noises it made - weeee-aannnnnnn-gggggggggg-brrrrrt!). Asteroids, Centipede, Space Invaders, and more. And I was never good. Never got very far. Thank goodness for reset buttons LOL. Then came the PC games. We won't even mention the coin operated arcade type games (now I could pay money to die immediately. Sometimes three times in a row!). No matter how many times I played I was not very good. Very little hand-eye coordination. It takes too long for my tiny brain to process what is going on and tell my hands what to do. And my hands are stubborn anyway and don't do what they are told. My mind says (too late) hit the button to fire! My hands (after a lengthy sabbatical) press the button to jump. So my little character gets shot right between the eyes, since he has jumped up directly into the path of the fireball (or whatever). By the time I realize what I have done, the system is playing "music to mock by" and displaying the words GAME OVER for all the world to see. Oh, how I used to long to put my initials on that "high scores board"! Sure, I won awards for speech contests and science fairs and art exhibits. My diaramas were first rate, and I got every badge in brownies with nary a hiccup (well, except when I chose Jello for my cooking badge. I still to this day cannot make jello. I have trouble with authority and can't take direction, not even from the box of a dessert mix). But never ever got to put my initials in the high score lineup of a video game. My daughter is six. She can sit and play a gameboy, complete boards, and yes even put up her initials. Of course, she had to ask what initials were and what hers are, but still. She has tried to teach me. She sits next to me and peers over and screams and fidgits and gets all worked up "Jump up! No jump UP. 'A' button. No, I mean 'B' button. Move move move! Don't touch that turtle! Eat the mushroom....now jump. JUMP JUMP!!!". Never mind that the second it started a turtle touched me and I was dead before she even began with the instructions. She gets so disgusted with me. An hour later, she is still grumbling and mumbling "told her to jump....can't touch the turtles....never even ate the mushroom". I get pretty disgusted with myself as well. First off, for even caring that I suck at video games. And second off, for being so sucky at video games. I like to think that I am reasonably intelligent. So why can't I do things like play video games, or create an ebay seller's account (see note)? Or why do I have to completely scratch and ruin the acrylic fish tank with an algae scraper that is clearly for GLASS only before I realize I am not doing a "good thing"? How many times have I stood staring at the grocery store cashier before I clue in I am supposed to PAY now. What was I waiting for, exactly? Or waited at a stop sign before deciding it is not going to change colour so I might as well continue on (after all, it is a stop LIGHT that changes colour, stupid). Or placed a quarter in a pay phone and gotten angry that nothing is happening, then realize I expected the thing to dial itself. Can you imagine living with all that? Next time you see my DH give him a knowing look, a commiserating nod, and a pat on the back. It's even worse than you know. It's one thing to do such idiotic things. It's another to have a whole attitude about it, rant and rave, stomp feet and throw fits.....oh the wonderful fits I have thrown! I have laughed and cried at the same time. I have declared I was having a stroke or aneurysm and laid down on the floor. I have brought attention to my twitching eye and screamed "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE EYE OF A PERSON WHO IS OVER-REACTING?!?!?!". Wouldn't it be fun to live with that every day? Forget the nods and pats, send him food and a bus ticket. This morning, true to style, I spent an hour trying to get Xena to come out so I could take her picture. Normally this cat is all over me. She talks to me while I make school lunches. She sings when I clean the kitchen. She steals items from my desk and uses me as a tight-rope while I sleep. It's hard to get away from her. But when I WANT her so I can take a picture, the little beggar hides. I won't tell you the state of my eye twitch when I finally gave up and turned off the camera, only to realize she had been following me silently the whole time. DH, in what turned out to be a very unwise decision, laughed his arse off at me. Forget the food and bus tickets, send him arnica cream and some clean gauze. Note about sellers account After days and days dealing with the customer service reps from ebay, my last message from them was the exact same response as the first. I didn't think I would survive going through that loop again. The problem was, my address is in Canada but my ebay ID was for ebay.com (the US site). Supposedly I had to register with ebay.ca (the Canadian site), then I should have been able to become a seller easy peasy. WRONG! Kept telling me I was already registered and did not have to do so again. When I got that last message, part of the wiring in my brain melted for sure. I finally just gave up. Created a new ID at ebay.ca which will allow me to sell at both the .ca and .com sites (the Canadian site does not allow for a postage calculator while the .com does, which is the reason for wanting to sell there). So my old id is krystagr, my new id is dancesingarden. If you see me selling something, buy it - tee hee!