White Liars Wednesday: Halloween Edition

Episode 5 of White Liars dropped today! Hurricane Sandy may have destroyed a lot of my city, but Boyfriend and I are a-ok. We never lost power and thankfully our water is still safe to drink, but we haven't gone outside to survey the damage in our neighborhood yet. The subways are still shut down so I have no way of getting to work, so Happy Halloween to me! Boyfriend and I and several of our friends will go out on the town this afternoon dressed as DC characters. I will be going as Ravager. I'm super excited, so pictures and a report of the festivities are still to come! But, for now, enjoy Episode 5 of White Liars. Enjoy Samhain tonight and stay safe everyone!

 

Memory Lane Monday: My Shit-Hole Apartment (Part 7)

I'm very excited about this edition of Memory Lane Monday, mostly because I'm writing it from home and not my office where I work my "real job" thanks to Frankenstorm that is bearing down upon us. My office is closed today which means I got to sleep in this morning and I'm pretending I'm a real writer today. Working from home is a little tricky. I have my iPod plugged in to my head so that I can drown out the sound of Boyfriend's TV shows and the sounds of our crazy neighbor going berserk in the hallway because of the door to the roof that the wind keeps blowing opened and closed because it's not secure. Yes, that's right. A potentially very deadly mash-up of three severe weather events are bearing down upon us and the door to the roof does not stay shut. So, I better pump out this blog fast before water starts pouring on us. Speaking of shit storms and crazy neighbors, here is a riveting tale of the craziest neighbor ever:

Living Away From Home Year I've Lost Count

The Neighbor From Hell

(I Wish Zombies Ate Her, Then She'd Be Easier to Deal With)

So, I was finally all moved in to my miracle of a studio apartment in Astoria living by myself for the first time in my adult life. I had a great-paying job that I was struggling to enjoy and do well, but I was making enough money to pay my bills, plus buy some nice things, pay off my debt, and start a savings account. My plan was to stay at that restaurant for a year and build a nice little nest egg and then try and get either a serving job or a bar-tending job so I could continue to pursue auditions and acting jobs. They say that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. Well I hope he had the best laugh ever because then at least someone enjoyed 2008.

source

I was working as a hostess at a high-end restaurant in a swanky hotel in Midtown Manhattan. My boss was kind of a weird guy, but seemed ok. I got along well with the other hostesses and the bar manager just fine, but my direct supervisor was one of the biggest bitches I have ever had to work with in my life. Her name was Toby. She had some sort of power trip thing going on and was also one of those women that had some sort of complex with other women. She was pretty, but really short and seemed to hate anyone taller than her who was female, which included me. I think the fact that I was also blond and pretty gave her more fuel for her hate fire. She picked on ever little thing I did or didn't do. Nothing I did/wore/said was good enough for her. I didn't really care if she liked me or not, but it made work so much more pleasant when she wasn't up my ass about everything. On top of dealing with Toby, I had to spend all night on my feet on marble floors, dealing with rich snotty customers. Plus, no matter how early I got to my shift, the first 90+ minutes of every evening were filled with stress, chaos, and rushing around.  For a girl who was struggling with some self-esteem, anxiety, and depression, this work environment was not a healthy one.  So, needless to say all I wanted to do when I got home at night/early morning was relax. Well, the universe clearly had other plans.

Enter my downstairs neighbor, 5F or as I nicknamed her: "Psycho McCrazytown" (you'll understand why soon enough.) Our first meeting occurred on miracle day when Boyfriend and I were attempting to move all of my stuff into the apartment. Yes, it was very late at night/early morning when we finished and we were trying to be as quiet as possible, but we were making noise. I won't deny it. Moving is noisy business. As I was trying to quietly set down a chest of drawers when there was a pounding on my new apartment door. Assuming it was Boyfriend needing help, I answered. I was greeted by a disheveled angry face. She informed me that she lived downstairs and then yelled about all the noise and demanded I stop because I was keeping her awake. I apologized profusely for the noise and informed her that I was just moving in and that we were nearly done and then it would be quiet. This seemed to appease her enough to make her go away, and I did feel really bad for waking her up, but my sympathy does have a shelf-life.

Once Boyfriend and I finally got all of my stuff into the apartment and moved to one corner so that the super could still do some minor work before I could officially live there, we dropped off the moving truck and went to Boyfriend's apartment to sleep. I stayed with Boyfriend for almost a week until the Super called me to tell me I could move in (this is important.) Because I was working 40+ hours a week and was exhausted when I came home each night from work, it took at least a month to get my apartment entirely in order. But, in the first few days I was living there, I did buy some shelves for my bathroom to get organized. One fateful Friday at work, it looked like it was going to be a very late night which meant overtime pay, but also meant not getting home until around 2am. I made the not-so-wise decision to make myself a quad-shot cappuccino in the middle of the shift to plow though the rest of the night. This meant I was all kinds of jittery and hyped up even after I finally arrived home. 3am is not the best time to try to put together shelves for your bathroom. But I did anyway. I needed something to burn off the excessive energy I had. I tried to be quiet, but as I would soon learn, my definition of quiet is not the same as 5F's definition.

Source

My door bell rang violently at 3:30am.  Now, in NY doorbells are not the nice little "bing-bong" us suburban kids are used to.  No.  They are evil sounding noises that resemble psycho cries a la Xena Warrior Princess.   So, I was already on edge because of all the espresso AND now the doorbell had scared the ever-loving shit out of me.  I opened my door to my angry downstairs neighbor (I still to this day don't even know her name, she never offered it.)   She proceeded to go on a huge tirade about how noisy I was and how I have been keeping her awake for 2 weeks. (Remember that part about me living with boyfriend for almost a week? Yeah. I couldn't have been bothering her for 2 weeks because I hadn't actually been living there for that span of time. It was probably more like 2 days.)

 I apologized for making noise, but she cut me off. She started on a tangent about the plumbing and complaining about things that had nothing to do with anything.  I said I was sorry and that didn't know what she was hearing those other times because I wasn't here. She finally went away. I stopped my project, and eventually settle down enough to get some sleep.

Cut to: Eight (yes, 8) hours later.  Almost NOON on a Saturday.  I decided to tackle the shelves again.  I was making far less noise at this point, I had put a towel on the wood floor where I was working so as to deter any thumping or scraping for Psycho 5F downstairs.  Again, less than 5 minutes after I started, the scary angry doorbell screamed at me again. By the time I got over to the door, Psycho 5F was out in the hall complaining in a shrill voice to the superintendent's wife, who lived down the hall from me.  I dared to venture out in the hall to ask what's wrong and she went nuts again about the noise. This exchange took place:

Me: It's like 11am.  What do you want me to do?  I'm sorry I woke you up at 3, but that was 8 hours ago.  It's Saturday, I need to put together my furniture, I work all the time and don't have time to do it during the week.

Psycho 5F: (Quieter but still pissed) So, this is still "moving noise?"
 

Me: Yes
 

Psycho 5F: So this is not "recreational noise?"
 

Me: No.  I don't drop bowling balls from the ceiling for fun or anything. (I'm a smart ass, I know)
 

Psycho 5F: Well that's what it sounds like.  You know when I come home, I take off my shoes, I try to be respectful...(I stopped listening after this)
 

Me: (Looking down at my bare feet)  I'm not wearing shoes, I'm in bare feet. 

Just so she'd get the picture, I lifted up my foot and stuck it up in the air near her face so she could see.  She got even more pissy and I just closed the door to her huffing down the stairs screaming "I've never heard so much noise in this apartment before..!"

The best part about this neighbor of mine? She was not some cranky 80-year-old woman. She was maybe about 29.

I spoke to the Super's wife later that day to apologize for the intrusion and to explain my side of the story so I wouldn't get evicted.  The Super's wife informed me not to worry about it because 5F was apparently heavily medicated and imbalanced in some way and they mostly ignored her anyway.

Awesome.

Thus began a year-long power struggle with Pills McGee in 5F. She complained to the Super and his wife  about every little noise that came from my apartment, and then it got out of hand to the point where I suspected that she might actually climb the fire escape and attempt to stab me in my sleep. But the best Psycho 5F encounters and shit storms were yet to come.

To Be Continued...

Dear 5F please please get eaten by a zombie.

 

I did not make this awesome cross stitch. I found it here, but there is no source listed. If you know, please tell me so I can attribute it properly.

Not Quite a Real Post

In case you missed it, White Liars episode 4 "What Dreams May Come" dropped yesterday! I make a brief appearance in this one and get to be all crazy and borderline evil. That bow and arrow is my favorite thing ever. This is my favorite episode we've done, so watch it! Watch it and enjoy! There will be more Mary in the rest of the season.

Memory Lane Monday: Educational Games of Childhood

NOTE: Sorry this edition of Memory Lane Monday is a day late being posted. I don't really have a great excuse.  I got busy with Real Life. Sorry. I promise this will most likely never happen again.

Playing Girls Like Robots had reminded me how much I enjoy logic games. Then, that reminded me of how much I enjoyed all of those classic educational games of my childhood. How I miss those wonderful old "now-the-teacher-can-go-have-a-smoke-break-while-the-kids-are-learning" games in all their 8-bit glory. Those were the days. Even though many times, they danced dangerously on the line of educational vs loosely based on something you may learn about in school, we didn't care as long as we didn't have to take notes.

My very first learning game was Ernie's Big Splash, which I have discussed in the past. Ernie was essentially my "gateway game" but my mom was hesitant to buy lots and lots of computer games, afraid of turning my brain to mush. So we started simple with educational games like:

Reader Rabbit

Source

Reader Rabbit was a spelling and reading game. I don't remember much about it except that it involved trains and a word factory and you had to fill in missing letters or group together words that were alike. Well, actually that was the whole game, wasn't it? I also remember that it taught me how to spell and read simple words at an early age. I already loved books and reading as a wee one, but I really do credit this game with my ability to read to myself by the time I was four, and also why my reading comprehension levels were off the charts throughout my school days (surely the only thing that saved me and my depression/anxiety-riddled brain from being placed in a "special" class.) I also know this game was a success enough for my mom because she continued to buy me more games. Thanks, Reader Rabbit!

Number Munchers & Super Number Munchers

Source

Number Munchers was a Pac-Man-like game that was a better way to be quizzed on math skills than flash cards. You had to move the Green Muncher around the grid on the screen and make him eat the numbers that met the criteria on the top of the screen ("multiples of 5" for example.) But while running around on the screen munching numbers, you also had to watch out for Troggles, ugly purple guys who would eat the Green Muncher if he caught you.  This game was one of many attempts by my mom to improve my math skills. I had horrible math anxiety as a kid which was not made any better by having two parents who were very good with numbers (my mom trained to be a CPA at one point.)  But the Number Munchers games did eventually help that math anxiety. As an adult, I have discovered that I have a slight dyslexia with numbers, so the anxiety is still there a bit, but it is manageable now. I liked Super Number Munchers the best, not only because the graphics were better, but mostly because the Green Muncher wore a cape. What other reason does one need?

Mavis Beacon

Who remembers this bitch? Who else had this as a staple int heir elementary school?  Since these newfangled computers appeared to be necessary for every day life in the future, all kids in school were required to learn typing skills. What better way to do that than introducing them to a fictional typing expert? One of my teachers in school must have been Gutenberg's typesetter or something, she was so old and crotchety and when you were in her class, it was a dictatorship. If she even suspected you of thinking about looking at the keys (aka "cheating") while typing, you were shamed with being boxed. No, not ear-boxing- I didn't grow up in the South. She would but a modified shoe box over your hands while you typed so you couldn't look at the keyboard. I was "boxed" so many times I had my own. I decorated it and everything. The TMNT and pony stickers did not make the box any cooler, however.  In all seriousness, I did like Mavis Beacon as a program. It was a lot of fun and I much preferred sitting in front of a computer screen to sitting in class taking notes off of an overhead projector (remember those things?)  Mavis was a really great tool that taught me a lot.



And they wonder why texting and driving is such an epidemic nowadays. Thanks, Mavis!


Super Solvers


Wiki

My dad bought me Super Solvers Outnumbered as yet another attempt to improve my math grades in school. I really enjoyed playing this game. Alone. When I played alone, I could run away from Telly the robot in the hallway that made you do a math quiz. When playing with my dad, he always made me let the Telly catch me, and sat there while I sweated through the pop math quiz. Go away Telly! I don't want to do math!  This game had a lot of qualities I loved. It was a platformer where you wandered around an old TV station at night looking for clues as to the whereabouts of the Master of Mischief. Yes, there was math, but it also involved logic puzzles and word problems, which I never seemed to hate as much as everyone else. Plus there was always immense satisfaction when I earned enough points to get my ranking to go up.

Pro bitches!

The Super Solvers franchise had a lot of other really cool games like Treasure Mountain! which I never owned, but played a lot of at my friends' houses. Now that was an awesome well-rounded game.  Except for those little magic-coin-stealing elves. Those bastards were evil. 

Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?

Wiki

Long before the iconic red trench coat and hat, and the 90's game show on PBS, this green box came to mind whenever I thought of Carmen Sandiego. This was a game I'm pretty sure my dad bought for himself under the guise of buying it for me. It was a little too advance for me to play all by myself in the 80's and early 90's, plus with my dad being very interested in travel and having travelled lots of "exotic" places for work, he knew a lot more about geography than I did. I loved playing this game with my dad. I credit this game and my dad's love of travel with my interest in other cultures and the reason I can use a map like a champ. This game should really be a required learning tool for everyone, especially for like such as US Americans who don't have maps and such as...


The Oregon Trail

Photo credit: The_Pug_Father via Flickr

What list of beloved childhood educational computer games would be complete without this classic? We learned so much from this game, like...there really was a trail to Oregon and people really loaded up wagons and rode on in the 1800's.  And...also...lots of people died of dysentery...which is basically pooping yourself to death...and...yeah. 
Ok, so The Oregon Trail game danced on that line of "educational game" much like the "inspired by actual events" line that Hollywood likes to dance on, but it didn't matter. If you were a kid in school in the 80's and 90's this game was the greatest thing in the classroom since the A/V cart. 

Source

Thanks to PCMag.com, YesterYear Gaming, and Old-Games.com for inspiration, information, and a stroll down memory lane. *Sigh* now all I want to do is play all these old games again. Argh! Stupid not having administrative privileges on work computer! Er...I mean, playing games on my work computer would be wrong. Yes. Very very wrong...

And Then There Were Robots. Lovable Lovable Robots. (A Short and Sweet Game Review)

After months of waiting, Girls Like Robots was finally released last week! Produced by Popcannibal LLC and distributed by [adult swim] games, it is available for Windows, OSX, iPhone, iPad, and Android.  I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing Margaret Scott, the sister of Popcannibal's founder, Ziba Scott, at PAX East in April of this year. She was delightful, charming, and informative. After talking to her and playing the demo at their booth in Indie Alley, Girls Like Robots was definitely one of my most anticipated games of this year.


Copyright Popcannibal LLC

  When I spoke with Margaret in April, the projected release date was set for July, so I have been eagerly waiting for the game's release since then.  I was disappointed when the game was delayed, but if they needed those extra months to make the game better, then it was totally worth the wait. Girls Like Robots is a puzzle/logic/seating arrangement game, simple in concept and design, but also adorable and tricky in execution. There are darling animations, cut-scenes, and a pleasant string band soundtrack accompanying the 100 levels of increasingly difficult and creative puzzles.

In the tutorials, you learn that girls like robots (obviously) and robots like girls, but not too many girls. Nerds like robots too, but robots feel very "meh" about nerds. Nerds like girls, but girls hate nerds. Nerds also hate other nerds. The game starts you off with a simple grid of "seats" and a bank of characters off to the side. Based on the relationship criteria, you must arrange the characters in the most ideal way on the grid to fill up your happiness meter. It sounds easy, but the combinations continue to get more difficult as the game goes on; the grids change shape and size, and new characters with new relationship requirements are introduced. 



Copyright Popcannibal LLC

Believe it or not, there is a plot to the game as well. A budding romance between a loner bug-loving girl and goofy sporty guy need your help to go to the dance together. The silly story-line leads you through town (and up into the stars) where you meet some charming characters, are bombarded with puns and one-liners, and there's pie. Lots and lots of pie. While the plot of the game isn't exactly a nail-biter, it is an added touch of charm and humor in this already creative, cute, and devilishly challenging game. Girls Like Robots is completely worth the $.99 price tag on iTunes.  For those who enjoy puzzle and logic games, this app will appeal to the casual as well as the more hard core of gamers. I found this game to be delightful!

On my patented scale of 5 nerdy things, Girls Like Robots scores a solid 5 Happy Robots!  

Copyright Popcannibal LLC

More White Liars Wednesday: Ep 3

More White Liars!!! My character, Mary has not shown up yet in this season, but maybe you'll get to see her next week...

Memory Lane Monday: And Then The Voice of My Childhood Hugged Me and I May Never Stop Crying

You may remember my New York Comic Con experience last year as quite a disappointment. Well, all is forgiven, NYCC, because this year was amazing! Boyfriend and I opted to only go one day this year since a 3-day pass was such a waste last time. In the one day we were there, however, there was much more organization, clearer information, and more crew members to help. Thanks for getting your act together NYCC. My two goals this time around were to actually have a conversation with The Oatmeal (instead of grinning at him like a dumbass) and to meet Rob Paulsen.




Operation Talk to The Oatmeal Do-Over was a success!!!

 Matt from The Oatmeal was really fun.  He was obviously a little tired, but Boyfriend and I had fun chatting with him for a moment.  He signed Boyfriend's tin of Irish oatmeal and I told him the story of last year and how awkward I was.  He confessed he was so jet-lagged that he has no recollection of the entirety of NYCC last year so he told me he probably didn't even notice my gaffe. Awesome.  Then he drew me a picture in my book and clarified that the little dangly things at the bottom were "feet, not penises." Success.

The Oatmeal on oatmeal.

With a successful Oatmeal encounter under our belts, we were feeling good, but the butterflies started to form in my tummy the closer the time got to the meet-and-greet with Rob Paulsen at the ShiftyLook booth.  Rob Paulsen was essentially the voice of my childhood. He was Raphael (my favorite Ninja Turtle) he was Yakko Warner, Pinky, and countless others; he filled my cartoon-watching days with witty sarcasm and laughter. As a child with undiagnosed depression, anxiety, and self-esteem issues, coming home on miserable day after miserable day at school to watch Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain was what kept me going. Rob's voice made such an impression on me as a kid that I have to give him some credit with influencing me as a performer as well. I had basically been waiting 20 years to meet this man. No pressure, right?

There's an old adage that warns against meeting your heroes because they could never live up to what you built them up to be in your head, and sometimes people turn out to be just plain assholes.  What if I had built this hero up in my head to be something he wasn't? But, to say that Rob rose to the occasion and fulfilled this dream of mine is the understatement of the goddamned century. He blew any fantasy I had of meeting him out of the water. Not even my dreams of the "perfect" meet-and-greet even compared to the real Rob Paulsen. The man is the most humble, kind-hearted, generous, and patient celebrity I have ever met. I only hope my soul can shine half as brightly as his does some day. It was everything I could have hoped for and so much more.

We were some of the first arrivals at the ShiftyLook booth waiting for him.  Once they made the announcement and did some promotion of the new Bravoman cartoon, it turned out to be a very informal meet-and-greet; no table, no line, just Rob in the center of the crowd taking his time with everyone.  And I must also give major kudos to everyone waiting around in the booth. People totally obeyed Wheaton's Law and patiently waited their turns and didn't crowd or push. Kudos Comic Con-ers, kudos. There was a special-needs boy waiting next to us just vibrating with excitement. We think he may have had severe Autism or some other developmental challenge, and he was just so damn excited to get to meet "Pinky" that we did not have the heart to make him wait a second longer than he had to, so we let him go first.  Watching Rob take his time with this boy and talk to him as Pinky and then give his mom a hug was heartwarming and so touching and showed his character as a person. Any fear or nervousness I had started to melt away. When it was Boyfriend's turn to talk to Rob, this exchange took place:

Boyfriend: Hi Rob!

Rob: Hello! Hey, buddy look at you, showing up with two chicks! (Referring to me and our friend Krista with our cameras at the ready) I wanna hang out with this guy!

Boyfriend: (Laughing and pointing to me) Well, this one's with me.

Rob: Well of course she is! (To me) You know you are way above his pay-grade, sweetie.

Boyfriend: Oh, she knows. But I gotta punch above my weight, you know.

Rob: Boy are you ever, look at her, she's beautiful!

My head almost exploded at that point.

They chit-chatted for a minute and Boyfriend had Rob sign a yellowing piece of paper with his old TMNT sticker collection on it from when he was 7 years old. Rob was tickled by it and signed it "Turtle power" which made Boyfriend turn into a little kid before my very eyes. Then it was my turn. Boyfriend pulled himself together again to make sure he took my picture.  He understood how much this encounter with Rob meant to me. I was shaking like a frostbitten chihuahua the entire time I spoke to Rob. I handed him my Animaniancs Volume 1 DVD set so he could sign it.  He flirted with me in Yakko's voice and I almost squealed and peed my pants but managed to keep myself under control.

   

Squeeeeeeee!!!

I wanted to stand there for an hour telling him how much his work has meant to me, but I'm not a complete lunatic. I told Rob I'd waited at least 15 years to meet him, and thanked him for bringing so much joy and laughter into my childhood and before he could modestly "oh pshaw," I told him a little bit about my lifelong struggle with depression and how he helped me deal with it because he gave me reasons to smile and laugh while growing up. That's when I started to choke up, and I'm amazed I was able to speak clearly enough for him to understand the words tumbling out of my mouth. But, he immediately gave me the longest, warmest hug I've ever received from a pseudo-stranger.  He held me while I cried on his shoulder. He talked right into my ear, so no one else heard what he said to me.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing that with me, sweetie. Thank you so much. I am honored to be able to do that for you."

He spoke to me in a sweet, sincere, patient voice. He didn't talk down to me. He didn't patronize me. He thanked me for telling him about my illness and told me that I validated his career because he was able to bring me moments of happiness. He said I was strong and beautiful because I had made it this far in life. He reminded me that I had to keep pushing through it, and not give up. Just when I was content to believe that the hug would never end, he looked me in my watery eyes and told me I had made his day. I made his day?!?! The man just made my goddamned life! Then he outdid himself and gave me a firm affectionate kiss on my salty tear-soaked cheek and another quick squeeze.  He told me to take good care of Boyfriend. I promised to do just that, blubbered a "thank you" and then I fled to the corner of the booth to finish crying in private away from the staring eyes of the crowd behind us. Boyfriend later told me that Rob shook his hand one last time and gave him that fatherly look that said "You take good care of her" before Boyfriend came over to comfort me.  Boyfriend hugged me and said, "You did it!" while I cried, releasing years of anxiety, and heartache, and hope, and joy. It was healing.

The entire encounter with Rob only lasted a few minutes, but replaying it in my mind it feels like it lasted hours and it filled me with a lifetime of joy. Time slowed down and moved backwards. It was like Rob was hugging me and my 10-year-old self at the same time. He reached through time and healed that sad, scrawny, scared little girl sitting in front of her TV.


Bless you, Rob Paulsen.

 Dear Rob,

There are not enough words in the English language to thank you properly. I don't know that I could ever accurately describe how much better my life has been with your voice in it.  But, I will try. Thank you. Thank you for the love you give to your fans. Thank you for treating those of us whom the rest of the world views as "broken" like we're rock stars. That above all is what truly speaks to your amazing character. Thank you.  Thank you for years of laughter and happy tears. You have completely made this gurl's life, and filled me with new courage to pursue my dreams. Thank you.  Also, sorry if while I was crying I snotted on your awesome shirt.

A lifetime of thanks,

Jessica



Cue Jess tears in 3...2...1...

Memorandum:

Let it be known to all who encounter me: if you so much as utter one unkind word of Mr. Rob Paulsen, them's fightin' words, and I will cut you. You are warned.

Smiles,

Jess

White Liars Wednesday!

I plan to be at New York Comic Con this weekend, so this might be my last post for the week, and it's not even a real post. This morning, the second episode of White Liars went up and you should watch it.  I'm not in this episode, but I will show up very soon. Enjoy!

Lions, and Tigers, and Pomeranians, Oh My! (Minor Spoilers)



This is the most bad-ass a Pomeranian will ever look.

 Much to my excitement, Tokyo Jungle (developed by Playstation C.A.M.P. and Crispy's!) was finally released in the US on Playstion Network! I had no idea what I was getting into, but I was excited to play this game. Based on the trailer it is difficult to tell what genre the game falls into. It calls itself an "urban based animal survival genre" which I'm pretty sure isn't really a thing. Maybe it's a sub-par translation from Japanese, or maybe the game is so new and different that it doesn't fit into any one genre of video game, so they had to make up their own. Whatever they call it, this game is pretty damn enjoyable.  After my first viewing of the trailer online early this year, I wasn't sure if I was to expect the game to be more like Sim City or The Sims except with animals and violence, or if it was an RPG, or more along the lines of a battle royale type game. After spending several days playing it, I concluded: yes. It is all of the above.

Tokyo Jungle takes place in post-apocalyptic Tokyo, Japan. All humans have strangely disappeared and all animals from the wee chick to the mighty Velociraptor (didn't you know they had dinosaurs in Japan?) have taken over the city. The player's goal is to survive as long as possible as your chosen animal while completing various challenges, and trying to locate USB drives containing human archives that offer clues as to why the humans all disappeared. Obviously the game requires some suspension of disbelief (last I checked animals could not use USB drives or, you know, read.)



Caption deemed unnecessary due to awesomeness of picture.

 Tokyo Jungle has two modes: Survival mode, and Story mode. You start off in Story mode with the tutorial. The controls feel a little clunky and are tricky to get used to at first, mostly because the game concept is unique and the game play is not exactly "standard." For example, even though the world in the game is 3-dimensional, you cannot control the camera angles or your view of the world at all.  You have to go with the flow of the game, which is confusing for anyone who is accustomed to using the right analogue stick to adjust their view of the action on screen.

Once you complete the tutorial chapter in Story mode, you must go to Survival mode and choose which animal you will play as. There are dozens of types of animals to play as (with more being added) in the game, with different breeds/colors to choose from, but you must unlock or buy them first. The animals fall into 2 categories: herbivores or carnivores. Your 2 animal options when starting are the Pomeranian, and the Sika deer-also known as the spotted or Japanese deer (I didn't know what it was either, I had to Wiki that one.) The main goal in Survival mode is to survive as long as possible (duh) and once you reach certain milestones or have lived a certain number of years, challenges will become available to you. Challenges range from travelling to a certain location, to eating a certain number of kilocalories, to mating. By completing these challenges, you can unlock new animals, gain additional skill points, and find useful items or outfits (oh yes, I said outfits.)

Nothing strikes fear into the heart of predators everywhere like a feral cat in high tops.

However, as ridiculously fun and silly as this game is, there are a couple of annoying drawbacks to the game play. Once you die, it's perma-death. No resurrection. No loading your previous save. You are dead and have to start over, including any challenges you completed.  The survival points you accrued during your animal's life by completing challenges are tallied up and posted on the online scoreboard for all the world to see. The most annoying part about this is the game never explains this to you. I figured it out on my own through trial and error after I found no way to continue or load a previous save. Once I discovered this perma-death, I got very frustrated and nearly rage-quit, pissed that I had bought such a stupid game. It was like being transported back to my 9 year old self playing Lion King on Sega and screaming at the Game Over screen because Scar had kicked my ass once again.  But I persevered, and I'm glad I did.  While it is really irritating and almost foreign nowadays to not be able to load your saved game, all is not lost once you die in Tokyo Jungle. If you have mated and bred a new generation(s), that data is saved and any new stats your offspring inherited will also be available the next time you play as that animal. For example, if you played as a Pomeranian and were able to stay alive long enough to level up and mate, but died before any of the offspring (2nd generation) were able to breed, then the next time you enter Survival mode as a Pomeranian, it will read 2G next to it and any stats your 2nd generation of offspring inherited will apply, and so on and so forth.  In addition, any outfits, archives, or new animals you found or unlocked will be available to you in the animal "tree" on the Survival mode home screen. This perma-death facet gives the game a very arcade-game-like quality.



 Survival mode also has a local multi-player option. Boyfriend and I played it a few times before we got a little fed up. This mode requires a ridiculous amount of teamwork, and strategy to master. In Survival Multi-player mode, you each choose an animal-it can be the same animal or a different one. One or both of you must survive as long as possible.  If one of you dies, you can use animal medicine to resurrect the fallen ally. Defending yourself from predators or competition is slightly easier in multi-player mode since there are more of you, but you must also share food and the game does not double the food sources just because there are more players. This obviously gets very frustrating especially when some food sources provide an uneven number of "noms" for both of you to share. Another frustrating aspect of the multi-player mode is you can't share the same nest to mate and create offspring and you can't mate with each other.  If you both find worthy mates, you'll have to decide which one of you gets to mate first, then go find and claim a new nest for the other member of your party, all while trying to complete challenges and unlock new items. Did I mention that once your individual animal reaches the age of 15, it automatically dies? Yeah. That happens. Overall, we both found the Survival Multi-player mode to be annoyingly difficult. 

The other mode in Tokyo Jungle is Story mode. The Story mode episodes are unlocked by finding the USB drives I mentioned earlier. You can read the data/archives on the USB drives in the Start menu, and they will give clues as to why the humans have all mysteriously vanished from the Earth. Also, once you collect 3 new USB drives/archives in Survival mode, a new episode in Story mode will become available for you to play. The not-necessarily-linear episodes in Story mode follow the lives of different animals, beginning with the mighty Pomeranian.

Ah yes, the noble...pom-pom dog.

Eventually, I believe Story mode is supposed reveal why the humans are no more, but (SEMI-SPOILER) I have yet to get more than some vague clues about abnormally violent animals and some sort of time rift (which may explain the presence of Velociraptors and Mammoths.) The drawback to Story mode is there won't be additional USB drives available to find in Survival mode until you complete the most recent episode in Story mode.

Tokyo Jungle as a whole is rather strange, and a little repetitive, but fun. The translation from Japanese may be lacking a little-I definitely think some nuances in the tutorials are missing-but the game is quirky and enjoyable. Is it worth the $14.99 PSN price tag? If for the convenience of downloading the game versus walking to GameStop and purchasing it for $50 is the trade-off for no disc/instruction guide, I say, yes it is worth the price. However, my recommendation for those who don't like the challenge of figuring out how to play a foreign game with little to no guide, I would wait until the game has been out for a while longer. As of now, there are no decent walk-thrus or Wikis for Tokyo Jungle online, at least not in English.

So, on my patented* scale of 5 random/awesome/nerdy things, I give Tokyo Jungle 4 Hammer-Wielding Otters.

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*Not actually patented

Memory Lane Monday: My Shit-hole Apartment (Part 6.5)

So, remember that time I mentioned that I escaped from New Jersey by the skin of my teeth? This is a quick story about that.

Living Away From Home Year 6-ish

Escape to New York

(Real Estate Brokers and Other Shady Dealings,
Or: Boyfriend the Hero)

There's an old adage here in New York that says "You're always looking for an apartment, a date, or a job." It's funny because it's true. Towards the end of my tenure in the New Jersey house, I got a job as a hostess at a really swanky fine dining restaurant in Midtown Manhattan. I was making more money there than I ever had in my life, with the potential to have health benefits for the first time, but between the pain-in-the-ass commute from Weehawken, paying twice as many state taxes, and Boyfriend living in Queens, I decided it was time to leave NJ.

I spent the first months of 2008 before my lease was up looking for a new apartment. I was looking in Queens where the prices were better, but also so I could be near Boyfriend. Every place I looked at was either too expensive, not at all what I wanted, or the broker I was dealing with was an idiot. With only a little over a month left before I needed to move, I started getting nervous and desperate. I decided to contact a new broker, and he showed me a couple of places that were waaaay out of my price range, but then he showed me an apartment that had been completely gutted.  At first I was about to scream, but he showed the intended floor plan and it looked great. It was a cozy 2 bedroom, railroad style with 2 entrances and was a block from the train, and one train stop away from Boyfriend. The owner/landlord was an active firefighter and part-time contractor. Other than the fact that it was under construction, I could see its potential and it was within my budget. Trying to sound casual, I asked the broker when they were planning on having it completed. He must have smelled my fear and desperation, a talent reserved for the slimiest of used-car salesmen, brokers, and lawyers (no offense to all of my lawyer friends/relatives.)  He dilly-dallied around an exact answer but asked when I needed to move. I told him I absolutely had to move in by the end of the month and without missing a beat, he guaranteed it would be done for my move-in date. Remember those red flags I was talking about last time? Clearly, I did not learn that lesson well enough, because this one was a doozy. But, it didn't stop me.

Source

I said that only if it was going to be done before my must-move date would I be interested. He, again gave me his word it was going to be done. So, I went back to his office to do a credit check and put down a deposit. My second red flag should have been the fact that they told me that my credit was fine. My credit score was not fine. It wasn't terrible at the time, but it wasn't "good" by any stretch of the imagination. I should have run away, run far away, and never looked back at this shady broker's office, but I did not. I put down my deposit for the apartment and paid the broker his "finder's fee" and skipped merrily home to continue packing, and to e-mail my buddy from college who had agreed to be my roommate.

Source

The first wrench in my plans came a week later when my college buddy said she had changed her mind and was moving in with her boyfriend instead. So, on top of working 40+ hours a week with a 3 hour round-trip commute everyday, I also had to find time at home to pack up all of my stuff, and find a new roommate. The universe was throwing red flags at me left and right, but I was too stubborn to see them.

Fast-forward to 3 days before I had to move out of the NJ house and into my new roommate-less apartment. I had enough money saved that I could float myself without a roommate for a couple of months. (I had rationalized it would be easier to find a roomie with the apartment finished anyway.) Boyfriend and I went to my new apartment to do a last-minute inspection and for me to sign the lease. I walked in and was less than impressed. The floors looked beautiful in the living room/kitchen, and the drywall was up and the wiring was finished, but there were no appliances, and the bathroom wasn't complete. Red flag. The first bedroom looked fine. Then we moved on to the "master" bedroom which was to be my bedroom. It looked great, except that the floor was slanted. Not just a little slanted.  We're talking fun-house slanted. If you put a pencil at one end of the room, it would roll smoothly all the way to the other end. SLANTED.

Boyfriend whispered to me, "I'm getting seasick. You can't live here."  

But I didn't want to believe it. I asked the landlord about the floor and his response was,
"Oh yeah, it's definitely not level."

After seeing the look of horror and disbelief on my face he continued, "Well, they said you needed it by the 30th so that didn't give me enough time to level the floor properly." 

RED. FLAG.



Oh yeah, I can totally make this work.
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Clearly the universe had grown tired of attempting to subtly tell me things and instead decided to beat me over the head with its message. Boyfriend and I booked it out of that apartment with me practically in tears. I couldn't live there. No one in their right mind would pay $1600 a month for that place! I had to move in 3 days. I couldn't extend my lease in NJ, there were already new people set to move in on the first of the month. How was I going to find a new place to live and finish packing everything in 3 days? Boyfriend took me to a diner across the street where I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and had panic attack before I could even attempt to eat lunch. After I spoke with the owner/landlord about getting my deposit back, we deduced that the broker had screwed both of us. The broker had told each of us a different story just to make the sale. I called the broker once I had calmed down and ripped him a new one. He had deliberately misled me into thinking that the apartment would be livable when I needed it. I felt really bad for the owner because he seemed like a decent guy, and he had worked overtime trying to get the apartment ready since he was under the impression that I "loved it and needed it done." But the reality was that I liked it just fine, and could see it's potential, but wasn't interested unless it was livable. The landlord was angry that he'd been swindled, but he was honorable and refunded my deposit immediately.

I spent the rest of that day trying to hunt down the broker to refund his share of my money, while trying not to completely lose my mind.  I hate moving. Hate. It. I've had anxiety attacks about moving months in advanced. Yes, that's right, I have preemptive anxiety attacks about packing things in boxes and moving them.  To say that it was a miracle that I was able to keep it together and function during these 3 days is the understatement of the god damned century. (Boyfriend disagrees with my definition of "keeping it together," he claims I was more like a zombie than anything else, but this is not about semantics.)

After lunch at the diner, I'm pretty sure I just blacked out inside a giant anxiety hole because I don't really remember those 3 days before moving out of NJ. But, while I was effectively losing my proverbial shit, Boyfriend sprung into super-awesome-boyfriend-action mode and conjured up a miracle. He somehow found a studio apartment for rent just down the street from his apartment. He set up a meeting with a new broker for me on the morning I was supposed to move out of Jersey. Miracle. Boyfriend stayed at my NJ house to finish packing my stuff and loading up my U-Haul truck, while I hauled ass over to Queens to look at the apartment and meet the broker.  She wasn't too pushy (for a broker) and actually seemed a little air-headed, but in typical broker fashion, she showed me 2 or 3 crappy apartments before she showed me the one we had asked to see. The more icky apartments I saw, the more stressed out and upset I became. When she finally opened the door to the studio that Boyfriend had originally asked about, I was so relieved, I almost cried. It was a huge studio (by NY standards) on the 6th floor of an older building.  It had an elevator, a trash chute, and a lovely view of the Manhattan skyline. It was close to the train which was both a blessing and a curse.  It was slightly out of my desired price range, but otherwise, it seemed perfect, and I wasn't about to be too picky. I texted pictures of it to Boyfriend to make sure that I wasn't just seeing it through desperation-tinted lenses.  He agreed with me that it looked great and we both breathed a huge sigh of relief. Boyfriend had worked a god damned miracle of miracles.

Super Awesome Boyfriend Action Hero.
*Now available with karate chop action!

I told the slightly-air-headed broker that I would put down the deposit right then and there. After a bunch of paperwork and phone calls at her office, I finally had the signed lease and key to my new apartment. I couldn't actually move in for a couple of days because they needed to do some minor electrical work and re-glaze the bathtub, but at the very least I was able to move all of my stuff into the apartment and just bunch it all up in the corner. Boyfriend not only helped me move all of my stuff to Queens from New Jersey (a delightful 6 hour process complete with getting lost in Northern New Jersey) but he also let me and my ferrets stay with him until I was able to move into my new place. He's a motherfucking hero. In hindsight, I probably should have just put all of my stuff into storage and moved in with Boyfriend and his roommates in the first place.  I would soon realize that my "perfect" apartment was a polished turd if I ever lived in one. But how was I to know what 2008 would bring?

(I'll give you a hint: It rhymes with "recession" and "psychotic neighbor.") 

 To Be Continued...