Dear Nintendo,
Recently, I acquired a Nintendo Wii, the system I have been coveting for more than a year. I am a casual gamer at best, and this system seemed to be marketed specifically to my group.
I was elated when I got a copy of Mario Kart Wii as well. Surely this game--THIS GAME would be well and good for me to play. After all, I had played on a friend's Gamecube and had not suffered an aneurysm, nor had I thrown a controller through a window or anything of the sort.
Last night devolved into screaming hysterics from me. After half a dose of my mother's Valium and repeated watchings of The Boondock Saints to settle my nerves, I find myself here on my laptop, writing you this letter. I thought you would like to know about my concerns as a loyal consumer.
1. Why are there blue shells? Why? These are redundant given every other obstacle from hell you put in those magical question boxes.
2. Why are the aforementioned blue shells used more than once in a race? Why is a squid used more than once in a race? I find myself frustrated when I get slammed with a Pow, a shell, and a squid all at once. This is insanity. As a gamer, I anticipate and appreciate a certain level of insanity, but this is on par with Hannibal Lecter. (I do suspect you enjoy Chianti.)
3. I strongly dislike the steering wheel attachment/headache/device from Hell. You cannot properly twist and turn, and instead end up writhing in your seat, much like an epileptic seal.
4. Rainbow Road is the rectum of Satan himself. I know you have painted it so it looks lovely--but no. I am not okay with the fact that if you sneeze, run over an ant, or slightly turn, you fall off the edge. And the fact that you see your character bursting into flames will forever haunt my dreams.
In short, this game could turn me off gaming forever. I find myself thinking day and night of Mario Kart and how I might possibly beat it. I know this is your intent, but it is becoming a sick obsession. My therapist's child is now able to go to Harvard because of me and this game.
Yours Truly,
Taima
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
My Lack Of Posting
School let out on April 29th.
I was on the bus to Ohio on May 2nd.
I was on the bus back to Michigan on June 1st.
So that's where I've been for about a month now. My best friend needed help packing up and moving, and my trip to see her was *so* short over Christmas, we were due for a long visit. It was so nice to see her. I miss her so much when I don't get to see her.
We're getting older now. I used to go down twice a summer. This summer I *have* to get a job since She Who Must Be Kept has made it clear she wants to shut up our house and move down to New Orleans with Croc. I think it's a terrible idea, and I told her why. She agreed, but stated she was going to do it anyway. I'm getting ready to move out this winter anyway.
I'm not a little kid anymore, and I just can't just shirk my responsibilities to go do something more fun, as much as I'd like to. I have to be a grown up and do grown up things. I don't always like it.
I was on the bus to Ohio on May 2nd.
I was on the bus back to Michigan on June 1st.
So that's where I've been for about a month now. My best friend needed help packing up and moving, and my trip to see her was *so* short over Christmas, we were due for a long visit. It was so nice to see her. I miss her so much when I don't get to see her.
We're getting older now. I used to go down twice a summer. This summer I *have* to get a job since She Who Must Be Kept has made it clear she wants to shut up our house and move down to New Orleans with Croc. I think it's a terrible idea, and I told her why. She agreed, but stated she was going to do it anyway. I'm getting ready to move out this winter anyway.
I'm not a little kid anymore, and I just can't just shirk my responsibilities to go do something more fun, as much as I'd like to. I have to be a grown up and do grown up things. I don't always like it.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Writing Prompt 25: A Time When You Felt Alone
The year I was sixteen was tumultuous, to say the least.
Perhaps the worst part of that year was the summertime. I was getting ready to start my senior year in high school. I remember going out every Friday night to a cafe that is no longer open, going with my friends and sitting outside in the parking lot, in various circles talking about things I didn't know much about.
I remember She Who Must Be Kept crossing the brink into some place of madness. Her mother had just passed away. SWMBK kept it together for about two months. Then one day she sat in work and began to cry until they sent her home.
I don't know how she made it home from work. Anyway she came home and laid on the couch and didn't get up for days. She was sleeping, I think. But she'd cry and vomit in her sleep. For three days, I didn't sleep because I was watching her.
My Bubby said I needed to call an adult. I don't think he realized I didn't have any other adults. My only adult looked like she was dying. When she was finally able to sit up, I handed her the keys and said we were going to the hospital.
I sat in the room with her while they put the yellow wristband around her. I was there when she began crying when the emergency therapist came in and told me quietly I could leave. She knew that I was tired, new I was close to becoming neurotic myself.
I was sitting in the waiting room of my town's hospital. We had just gotten this new fancy ER in, I remember. In the midsummer heat, my thighs stuck to the chair. I tried to call my Bubby and another friend of mine, but there was no answer.
I sat alone, in the ER.
I sat alone.
Perhaps the worst part of that year was the summertime. I was getting ready to start my senior year in high school. I remember going out every Friday night to a cafe that is no longer open, going with my friends and sitting outside in the parking lot, in various circles talking about things I didn't know much about.
I remember She Who Must Be Kept crossing the brink into some place of madness. Her mother had just passed away. SWMBK kept it together for about two months. Then one day she sat in work and began to cry until they sent her home.
I don't know how she made it home from work. Anyway she came home and laid on the couch and didn't get up for days. She was sleeping, I think. But she'd cry and vomit in her sleep. For three days, I didn't sleep because I was watching her.
My Bubby said I needed to call an adult. I don't think he realized I didn't have any other adults. My only adult looked like she was dying. When she was finally able to sit up, I handed her the keys and said we were going to the hospital.
I sat in the room with her while they put the yellow wristband around her. I was there when she began crying when the emergency therapist came in and told me quietly I could leave. She knew that I was tired, new I was close to becoming neurotic myself.
I was sitting in the waiting room of my town's hospital. We had just gotten this new fancy ER in, I remember. In the midsummer heat, my thighs stuck to the chair. I tried to call my Bubby and another friend of mine, but there was no answer.
I sat alone, in the ER.
I sat alone.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Quote
Whatever they grow up to be, they are still our children, and one of the most unconditional things we can give them is unconditional love. Not a love that depends on anything at all except that they are our children.
-Rosaleen Dickson
Pretty much this.
-Rosaleen Dickson
Pretty much this.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
I Know That I've Let You Down
Dear She Who Must Be Kept,
I have, to the best of my ability, tried to keep the peace around here. After our last discussion about how I hurt you and make you feel like a failure, I have done my best to be better. I wasn't sure how, as you can never give me a clear answer about what I do wrong, but I tried.
Which is more than I can say for you.
For four years I begged for help to get a room. You resisted and refused and threw a fit. For about three days my bed sat in my room untouched because you refused to ask Croc to put it together, even though he was the only one who could. Because for you, it was better for me to lay sleepless on the couch while you and Croc caroused on school nights until four in the morning.
But I am the one who hurts you.
After this last fight where you couldn't give me a clear answer about what I do wrong... After you couldn't even give me a clear answer about what I could do DIFFERENTLY to make you happy...
I'm more or less done.
I cried a lot. I cried for probably three straight hours. I woke up twice in the middle of the night and cried. I cried for my own confusion, my pain, my sense of abandonment; which is nothing new coming from you. You've always been obsessed with making sure that when I was gone, you had someone else to catch you when you fell.
But I'm done crying. I am. Know why?
You. Are not. Worth it.
You have shown me numerous times that I'm not worth your time--your love--you are, by that token, not worth my tears.
And it kills me to say things like that. I'm sure if you knew you'd fly into another rage that you're so famous for anymore. Good job icing me out, by the way! I love that you only do that when Croc is around, too.
You must think I'm stupid. Please. You raised me better than that.
Also, clinginess will drive your friends away faster than the supposed crimes your 21 year old has committed. Just--just saying.
I get that the way you treat me is nothing personal. OlderBrother refuses to listen to a word you say. You can't change your job. You've got yourself in a pit you can't get yourself out of. I get that screaming at me is all you think you can do. I'm the only one that listens.
Just remember I'm the only fucking thing you've got. And you're driving me away. I don't see how you think this is going to make you a winner in the end.
And to say I don't appreciate you? That I've never told you that? You can just piss right off, you martyr. That is such bullshit and we both know it. I'll just remind you of that damn diamond ring I got you. Oh and the notes I leave you for on the TV telling you how sorry I am you work so hard and how glad I am to have you? That's... What?
I can't wait to leave. And you're going to cry when I'm gone because you already do. I don't know what you're mad about, but I just can't fix it. YOU fix it, YOU fix YOU. That's what you've always told me.
And that mysterious thing you claim has been making me depressed since October? You're the only one who sees it. The quotes I've gotten; "You're only depressed when your Mom gets after you."
...Yeah.
I think you're projecting.
So, just remember that I love you. I love you so much. You just can't seem to appreciate it.
-Taima
I have, to the best of my ability, tried to keep the peace around here. After our last discussion about how I hurt you and make you feel like a failure, I have done my best to be better. I wasn't sure how, as you can never give me a clear answer about what I do wrong, but I tried.
Which is more than I can say for you.
For four years I begged for help to get a room. You resisted and refused and threw a fit. For about three days my bed sat in my room untouched because you refused to ask Croc to put it together, even though he was the only one who could. Because for you, it was better for me to lay sleepless on the couch while you and Croc caroused on school nights until four in the morning.
But I am the one who hurts you.
After this last fight where you couldn't give me a clear answer about what I do wrong... After you couldn't even give me a clear answer about what I could do DIFFERENTLY to make you happy...
I'm more or less done.
I cried a lot. I cried for probably three straight hours. I woke up twice in the middle of the night and cried. I cried for my own confusion, my pain, my sense of abandonment; which is nothing new coming from you. You've always been obsessed with making sure that when I was gone, you had someone else to catch you when you fell.
But I'm done crying. I am. Know why?
You. Are not. Worth it.
You have shown me numerous times that I'm not worth your time--your love--you are, by that token, not worth my tears.
And it kills me to say things like that. I'm sure if you knew you'd fly into another rage that you're so famous for anymore. Good job icing me out, by the way! I love that you only do that when Croc is around, too.
You must think I'm stupid. Please. You raised me better than that.
Also, clinginess will drive your friends away faster than the supposed crimes your 21 year old has committed. Just--just saying.
I get that the way you treat me is nothing personal. OlderBrother refuses to listen to a word you say. You can't change your job. You've got yourself in a pit you can't get yourself out of. I get that screaming at me is all you think you can do. I'm the only one that listens.
Just remember I'm the only fucking thing you've got. And you're driving me away. I don't see how you think this is going to make you a winner in the end.
And to say I don't appreciate you? That I've never told you that? You can just piss right off, you martyr. That is such bullshit and we both know it. I'll just remind you of that damn diamond ring I got you. Oh and the notes I leave you for on the TV telling you how sorry I am you work so hard and how glad I am to have you? That's... What?
I can't wait to leave. And you're going to cry when I'm gone because you already do. I don't know what you're mad about, but I just can't fix it. YOU fix it, YOU fix YOU. That's what you've always told me.
And that mysterious thing you claim has been making me depressed since October? You're the only one who sees it. The quotes I've gotten; "You're only depressed when your Mom gets after you."
...Yeah.
I think you're projecting.
So, just remember that I love you. I love you so much. You just can't seem to appreciate it.
-Taima
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
I Never Want To Stop Screaming
It's been about a year now.
A year since the life that was inside of me failed to blossom, and left me empty. It's been about a year since I sat with my head in Mistah Jay's lap, his fingers in my hair, feeling her slipping out of me.
It's been about a year since I failed at the one thing I was built to do.
Does it look up from here? Do I stop missing her so badly now? Now that I've crossed this line and I realized that I'm bent not broken... Do I stop feeling like I've done so very many things wrong? Do I stop thinking that my life would be better without her?
A part of me never wants to stop missing her. A part of me never wants to stop the scream I started when I realized how badly it hurt. A part of me never wants to stop the scream I started when I knew that I had lost something so precious... Something I could never even hope to replace.
I should let her rest in peace. I should let go of these things, let go of my own misery and then begin to understand that I can still carry on. I am still a human, and I am still worthy.
I'm still worth---.
It hit me like a ton of bricks today, what exactly this meant. It hit me, and left me breathless. This sense of loss has been haunting me. I can't believe how much I miss someone that I never even laid eyes on.
Mistah Jay smiled at me today. Jokes around with me. Lets me sit next to him and presses his body against mine. I don't think either of us are at a place where we can twine our fingers together and find peace.
Someday we will. I have hope. We'll be there soon.
This all has to go one step at a time. I've never been patient. I always want to take off at a run and get wherever it is I'm going. Only right now, I don't know where that is.
Mommy loves you, Vivian.
I'll never stop screaming.
A year since the life that was inside of me failed to blossom, and left me empty. It's been about a year since I sat with my head in Mistah Jay's lap, his fingers in my hair, feeling her slipping out of me.
It's been about a year since I failed at the one thing I was built to do.
Does it look up from here? Do I stop missing her so badly now? Now that I've crossed this line and I realized that I'm bent not broken... Do I stop feeling like I've done so very many things wrong? Do I stop thinking that my life would be better without her?
A part of me never wants to stop missing her. A part of me never wants to stop the scream I started when I realized how badly it hurt. A part of me never wants to stop the scream I started when I knew that I had lost something so precious... Something I could never even hope to replace.
I should let her rest in peace. I should let go of these things, let go of my own misery and then begin to understand that I can still carry on. I am still a human, and I am still worthy.
I'm still worth---.
It hit me like a ton of bricks today, what exactly this meant. It hit me, and left me breathless. This sense of loss has been haunting me. I can't believe how much I miss someone that I never even laid eyes on.
Mistah Jay smiled at me today. Jokes around with me. Lets me sit next to him and presses his body against mine. I don't think either of us are at a place where we can twine our fingers together and find peace.
Someday we will. I have hope. We'll be there soon.
This all has to go one step at a time. I've never been patient. I always want to take off at a run and get wherever it is I'm going. Only right now, I don't know where that is.
Mommy loves you, Vivian.
I'll never stop screaming.
Monday, April 11, 2011
I Won't Say Anything At All
I am flawed in the sense that I have learned very early on when to keep my mouth shut. Alco-Pop always taught me that if I didn't want to get hit, I shouldn't say anything at all.
There are some people, my Bubby's fiancee, Belinda, that I just don't say things to anymore. She consistently says things that are cruel and hurtful, disguising them as jokes.
In the past, I have called her out on nasty things she has said to me. Like in high school, when I once told her that if she didn't like the way I ran my life, feel free to take yourself out of it. Like the whole Halloween incident I previously blogged about. In the end, I don't really bring things up to her, because she doesn't listen.
Instead of taking what you say as something like you trying to help her, or just make her aware of something she does hurting you, she tries to pick your feelings apart. She tries to make you "aware" that she was "making a joke" so you don't need to feel "hurt".
And I can't take it anymore. So when she says something to hurt me, and she isn't ignorant, she knows when jokes she makes are going to hurt you, I ignore it. I shut my mouth. I don't say anything at all. I don't see the point in wasting my breath.
It all comes down to wasted breath. She exhausts me. She emotionally drains me. The only reason I still come around is that Bubby is so very dear to me. Bubby is one of maybe three people in the world (the other two being Mistah Jay and my Charliam) that know how to settle me down. And know when to let me cry. I have held my tongue about their relationship, even though I don't think it is right for either one of them.
I won't waste my breath.
So tonight, she started in on me again. Being hurtful. Calling me hurtful names. And I was upset, visibly, and then she instantly said I was IMing about her or blogging about her. And I wasn't, I was role playing (a guilty pleasure of mine) with my friend Daisy.
Belinda started in demanding to know what I was RPing about, and I refused to tell her. Because every time she finds out about something I like, she goes out of her way to make fun of it if she doesn't understand it. And there are few things I really like that she does, mainly because I have some out there tastes. Just like she hates on my love interests, Mistah Jay included. Just like she hates on She Who Must Be Kept. Or even my other friends.
Tonight she tried to deny nasty things she had said to me. About the things I like... About crocheting... She got defensive. In her mind, Belinda is never wrong. And that's why I don't bother to try and talk about it. I ended the conversation because I have better things to do than bang my head against a brick wall.
She later came to me crying, Belinda did. Crying about how I'm one of her best friends and she loves me and and and and and. I just looked at her coldly. I'm not--not up for that anymore It felt like hot air. We've had this conversation before. We've done this all many times. She always says she won't do it anymore; and she does. I know why she makes these jokes. She makes them to feel better about herself. Putting other people down makes her feel better.
Awesome. Good for her!
I just don't want to deal with it anymore.
She makes me tired.
There are some people, my Bubby's fiancee, Belinda, that I just don't say things to anymore. She consistently says things that are cruel and hurtful, disguising them as jokes.
In the past, I have called her out on nasty things she has said to me. Like in high school, when I once told her that if she didn't like the way I ran my life, feel free to take yourself out of it. Like the whole Halloween incident I previously blogged about. In the end, I don't really bring things up to her, because she doesn't listen.
Instead of taking what you say as something like you trying to help her, or just make her aware of something she does hurting you, she tries to pick your feelings apart. She tries to make you "aware" that she was "making a joke" so you don't need to feel "hurt".
And I can't take it anymore. So when she says something to hurt me, and she isn't ignorant, she knows when jokes she makes are going to hurt you, I ignore it. I shut my mouth. I don't say anything at all. I don't see the point in wasting my breath.
It all comes down to wasted breath. She exhausts me. She emotionally drains me. The only reason I still come around is that Bubby is so very dear to me. Bubby is one of maybe three people in the world (the other two being Mistah Jay and my Charliam) that know how to settle me down. And know when to let me cry. I have held my tongue about their relationship, even though I don't think it is right for either one of them.
I won't waste my breath.
So tonight, she started in on me again. Being hurtful. Calling me hurtful names. And I was upset, visibly, and then she instantly said I was IMing about her or blogging about her. And I wasn't, I was role playing (a guilty pleasure of mine) with my friend Daisy.
Belinda started in demanding to know what I was RPing about, and I refused to tell her. Because every time she finds out about something I like, she goes out of her way to make fun of it if she doesn't understand it. And there are few things I really like that she does, mainly because I have some out there tastes. Just like she hates on my love interests, Mistah Jay included. Just like she hates on She Who Must Be Kept. Or even my other friends.
Tonight she tried to deny nasty things she had said to me. About the things I like... About crocheting... She got defensive. In her mind, Belinda is never wrong. And that's why I don't bother to try and talk about it. I ended the conversation because I have better things to do than bang my head against a brick wall.
She later came to me crying, Belinda did. Crying about how I'm one of her best friends and she loves me and and and and and. I just looked at her coldly. I'm not--not up for that anymore It felt like hot air. We've had this conversation before. We've done this all many times. She always says she won't do it anymore; and she does. I know why she makes these jokes. She makes them to feel better about herself. Putting other people down makes her feel better.
Awesome. Good for her!
I just don't want to deal with it anymore.
She makes me tired.
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