The Moment You've Been Waiting For...(I Hope)

It is done! Our first video from our PAX East 2012 footage is up and available for viewing on my YouTube Channel.

Behold!

O is for Oarless and Ocarinas

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Do you ever feel oarless in life? Metaphorically, I mean.  You are in your boat and you can see off on the horizon where you want to be, but you look around and you can't find the oars to paddle in that direction, or worse you can see the oars but they are floating away from you in unknown waters and you're too unsure or afraid to jump in the water to try to get an oar.  That's how I feel today.  Fear holds me back today.  Fear that words won't go on the page right.  Fear that the words will eventually dry up and never flow again. Fear that even if the words continue to flow, I will continue spewing them out into the void where they will dance for a moment and fade away into nothingness, never having touched anyone or made the world better.

Then I think about playing a video game, and I feel cold, and that's when I know that the little Doom Cloud is trying to rear its ugly head again.

Boyfriend bought me Harvest Moon The Tale of Two Towns for my birthday last week and I'm really enjoying it, but for some reason today I've been craving a replay of Ocarina of Time today.  I have the 3DS special Zelda Edition which came with Ocarina of Time in 3D. Having never gotten a chance to play the original on N64-only watching my friends play in college-but loving Windwaker, I wasn't certain of what to expect.  Windwaker will probably always be my favorite in the Zelda franchise, but I thoroughly enjoy Ocarina of Time. The 3D element isn't necessary to the game play but it adds a little extra magic to it. 

And those are my thoughts today.  They may not be much, but after watching/helping Boyfriend edit our PAX East videos, I'm sick of hearing my own voice, especially the one in my head.
Humble brag?  Meh.  It happens.


 P.S Oarless is too a word, spellchecker!!!

N is for Nescience and New Logo?

Nescience (NESH-ee-ence) — absence of knowledge or awareness; ignorance 

I know I've harped on Draw Something already, but this needs to be said:

It's called DRAW  Something, not write-down-a-bunch-of-words-semi-related-to-the-word-I'm-supposed-to-be-guessing, THAT game is called $100,000 Pyramid. Am I the only one who runs into this issue?  I've been playing with this kid(?) who not only sucks at drawing (when he/she does actually draw) but his/her "clues" he/she chooses to write instead of draw don't make any sense.  

Example 1: 

This is my generous recreation of a "drawing" made by said genius I was playing with.  What was the word I was supposed to be guessing, you ask? Mozart.  In case your classical music knowledge is rusty, Für Elise is the more common name for Bagatelle No. 25 in A Minor one of the most popular songs composed by BEETHOVEN.  So, not only did this person violate the very basics of this game by writing words (a disqualification in Pictionary) he/she didn't give me the correct written clue. *sigh*

After this little debacle, I rolled my eyes, screamed at him/her through my iPod and moved on.  Then, I got really irate in the next round.

Example 2:

 

Again, another generous recreation on my part showing this player's ineptitude and/or laziness. If you're not going honor the spirit of the game, then don't play with me!  

The word was Depp, by the way.

The part that really boggles my mind though, is in Draw Something you aren't just stuck with a word, you have 3 options and you choose the word you want to draw.  Some words are harder and worth more points. But why choose a difficult word and not have a plan?! This is why I don't usually play online with others, I get all cranky.

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On a more pleasant topic, Boyfriend has been making amazing progress on our videos from PAX EAST and we should have the first one up this week! Also, our dear friend, Tom Phillips took my simple logo I had designed for the blog and created a masterpiece of...well, just look:

Original logo Copyright: Jessica Ayers

New logo? Copyright Tom Phillips

He sent it over last night and we all had a good chuckle, but no, this did not get the old stamp of approval from me. This will not be my new logo. However, Tom and I have no qualms putting it on a t-shirt.  As soon as it's in my Zazzle store, anyone can buy it.

You're welcome.

M is for My Sister, Megan

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My sister's birthday is tomorrow. Growing up, I never minded sharing my birthday week with Megs, I always thought it was fun because it usually meant 2 parties in one week even if one of them wasn't all about me. My mom was always trying to come up with creative theme parties for us, which I remember being super fun.  One year Meg had a ballet themed party and we all wore tutus and ballet shoes and listened to the Nutcracker on a loop for hours (which I bet drove my mom nuts) and danced around and it was great. Another year, we had a 50's diner themed party where everyone wore poodle-skirts, and we listened to the Grease and Mermaids soundtracks on a loop for hours (which I bet drove mom nuts.) I loved that party because I got to be the "waitress" (oh life imitating art) for everyone and mom even let me where my Rollerblades in the house like it was a drive-in.

My favorite memories with my sister through the years have been: 

-Playing "Dogs" (the name we gave to incorporate all the games we made up playing with our dollhouses and figurines as kids) 

-Having perfume fights in our bathroom

-Jumping on our neighbors' trampoline with the sprinklers on

-Getting asked if we were twins by strangers and then laughing at them (we're not twins)

-Pretending we were twins 

-All those times we leaned on one other on those days when you just needed your sister

We live several states away from each other now, and I wish I could see her more.  I don't call or text or e-mail as much as I should and every now and then I feel super guilty for all the times I was less than "sisterly" to her.  I wish I could go back in time and undo all the times I was mean to her for no reason or gave her any reason to fear or not look up to her older sister.  I'm sorry I had to go away to college and leave her at home for 2 years without a sister even though I'm sure using my room as her walk-in closet helped ease the pain of me not being there.  I'm sorry I couldn't always really be there during those years when she was really sick. I love my sister very much and I am so proud of the person she's grown into and I wish her nothing but happiness.

I love you, Poodle! Thanks for being my sissy. Happy Birthday!

L is for Lollygagging with Letters, More Open Letters to the World: Or Phoning it In

Dear Birds Outside My Window,
SHUT UP BEFORE 7AM!!
Thanks.
Dear Work,
I don't feel like doing you today.  Maybe I won't.
So there.

Dear Cranky Old Hag in My Office,
Yes, you. No one likes you.  No one cares about your bat-shit-crazy opinions. And thanks for the backhanded birthday wish yesterday.
P.S You're kind of a bitch, you might want to work on that.

Dear Brain,
Please just stay sane enough to get through this day and then we can go home and play video games until we pass out from exhaustion.

Dear Pottermore,
Why do you make me addicted to you so? I feel like a total prat.

Dear Space Shuttle Enterprise,
I want to watch you travel up the Hudson and get loaded onto a ship by a ginormous crane, it will be so cool!  But I can't because apparently watching history happen doesn't constitute as an office holiday.

Dear Time,
WHY ARE YOU GOING SO SLOWLY?!?!?!?

Dear Co-workers,
If you're not going to actually do any work, will you at least sit at your desk and pretend to work like the rest of us? God forbid I have to ask you a goddamn question and can't find you because you're off doing fuck-all somewhere for 30 minutes. It's fine, I enjoy doing 3 times the work I should have to be doing because you won't, while getting paid the same amount of money you do.

Dear Woman on Hold,
Yes, you are going to sit on hold while I write a poor-excuse-for-a-blog-post until you get tired of holding and hang up, or until you decide to pull your head out of your ass and realize the reason you're calling is not because our system is broken but really because you're an idiot.  Why?  Because you're being a nasty bitch. That's why.  You don't have time to deal with your computer problems that are not my fault but you think I should magically be able to fix and do all of your work for you?  Well, I don't have time to listen to you bitch and moan and act indignant and insult me when you can't follow simple instructions over the phone so I can do my job to determine the actual problem.
I take that back, I figured out the problem: You're a self-absorbed barnacle on the scut of life, it's Friday afternoon, and I no longer give a rat's ass-I am not your punching bag to yell at because you hate yourself. You can call back all you want, but now we know your number and have the power to push the "ignore" button on the phone.  Good day.


I said GOOD DAY
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Dear Reader(s),
Yes I realize this isn't really a post.
Sorry.
I promise to do better tomorrow.



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K is for Katzenjammer



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 Did I mention that it was my birthday yesterday? It was a pretty darn good birthday. My sister sent me some really nice lotion (plus a mystery gift that has not arrived yet,) Boyfriend got me a new game and a movie, and my dad came into town on a business trip so he took us out to dinner. I love going out to dinner with my dad, and not just because it's a free meal. We always go some place fun and eat delicious food until we're stuffed and there is always plenty of wine. Oh the wine...


Ketzenjammer is a German word that literally translates to cat wailing but it basically means "hangover" and the cat wail that is the Mariah Carey song that's playing on the radio at work right now is not helping me!


The Calvados was what really did us in last night, though. It's very similar to Grappa-a beverage I refuse to touch-which is a drink that my father refers to as "Wine's afterbirth." Gross. But he has a point, it feels like you're imbibing jet fuel. Which is why last night I tweeted this:

Sorry this isn't a real post, but now you know why. I'll have better and more interesting things to say tomorrow.  But how about that new vocab word, eh?
You're welcome.

J is for Jessica

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It's my birthday, bitches!
OK, that's the last I will mention it.  I'm not really one of those people that screams for attention by constantly reminding everyone that it's their birthday (I honestly can't stand those people.) I dance on the edge of the knife that is I-want-people-to-remember-that-it's-my-birthday-without-me-reminding-them-but-I-don't-want-everyone-to-make-a-big-deal-out-of-it. I'm more than happy with someone just wishing me a very simple and sincere "happy birthday," I don't ask for much.

Today on my way into work (yeah, going to work/school on your birthday blows) I got that feeling of dread that I get every year thinking, "What if no one remembers?" Then, that thought is quickly over-ridden by the fear that they didn't forget and they'll do something over-the-top and a bunch of people I don't know/like at the office will stare at me and wish me the empty and hollow "oh, happy birthday." 
Welcome to Boyfriend's hell.  The man is a saint to put up with my neuroses (even if he occasionally can't remember when my birthday actually is...)

So, enough about my birthday...sort of.  Before I was born, my mom was certain I was a boy and she planned on naming me Michael. But, one day my mom was sitting in the waiting room at her optometrist's office and there was a little girl in the waiting room who was crying because she had to get glasses.  Her mother was trying to console and called her "Jessica." My mom thought it was such a pretty name and one she hadn't heard a lot, so when it turned out I was a girl, my mom decided it was a fitting name for me. Little did any of us know that "Jessica" would be in the top 10 baby girl names in the U.S for the next 20 years, and it remains in the top 30 today. I was surrounded by Jessicas growing up. There were 3 other Jessicas in my preschool, 4 Jessicas in my elementary school, one of my best friends in middle school was Jessica, my bff in high school was/is Jessica, my roommate in college was Jessica.  I couldn't escape.

Growing up surrounded by other Jessicas, I started to hate my name. I felt like a misfit and often wished I had been born a boy instead (yes, because "Michael" was far less common.) However, my attitude towards my name changed thanks to the best Jessica: Jessica Rabbit.



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I never saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) in the theatres, but a couple of years after it was released, the Disney Channel used to play it at night quite often. I was addicted. I loved Christopher Lloyd in Back to the Future and from watching Taxi on Nick at Nite with my mom. He never scared me in WFRR until (spoiler?) he turned into the psychotic toon with the scary red eyes at the end. But, I completely fell in love with Jessica Rabbit. She had a strong dry wit and didn't take crap from anyone. She was everything I thought a Jessica should be, not like the boring or bratty little girls I went to school with who thought boys had cooties. From that day on, I was determined to be an awesome example of Jessicas. It wasn't until I was older that I realized most people only liked Jessica Rabbit because of her enormous...erm...talents, but I didn't care. She was a beautiful character with attitude that I looked up to, and surprisingly Jessica Rabbit did not give me body image issues (that honor goes to the ads in Seventeen magazine, and the girls in school who nicknamed me "beanpole" and "pipe cleaner," thanks.)

After Jessica Rabbit sort of wained in popularity, I became obsessed with Jessica Wakefield and her wacky adventures, but mostly, I really just liked seeing my name written in a book. But when the one-hit-wonder song Jessie came out, I wanted to change my name to Jessie for a hot minute, until everyone else in middle school was going by the same nickname (now if you even think about calling me "Jessie" or start singing Jesse's Girl to me, stabbing will ensue.)  With rise of Jessica Simpson, Jessica Biel, and Jessica Alba, I started getting self-conscious about my name again, I considered going by my middle name for a short while because I was tired of introducing myself and having people say, "Oh, like Jessica (Simpson/Biel/Alba) I love her! Don't you love her? Were you named after her?" Really?!?! If you want to get all technical, then yes, I guess I was named "after" them because they are all a teensy bit older than me, but did my parents decide to name me because of any of those particular girls? Don't be daft.  I was born long before any of them were famous. Now I just go by Jess.  Just Jess. However, I have been known to answer to "Excuse me" in the serving industry.

Well, I think that's enough narcissism for today? Don't you?

Did you know that Jessica is derived from the Hebrew name Yiskah?

The name Jessica first appeared as its now common spelling in The Merchant of Venice By William Shakespeare.

The name Jessica means foresighted, God's Grace, and/or Wealthy.

Did I mention today is my birthday?

Are you sick of my name yet? 'Cause I sure am.