WyldFlamingo thrashes about

2005-02-08T20:21:00.000-08:00

The art of perception

I’m on a “definitions” kick, of late—it’s too easily to get pensive with nwdragon away and the majority of home remodeling projects I can complete on my own—well, completed.

It’s interesting how perceptions are built. I’ve been in my current position for four years now—the longest I’ve ever been in one job. In that time, as with all places, people come and people go. But it’s amazing how people can depart your life or your workplace, yet still leave their stamp on your day-to-day activities.

I work in an administrative capacity, and am one of the few full-time, hourly employees at the largest software corporation in the world. Here’s where perception begins: there’s a strong perception at this company that people in my position aren’t quite as bright, as driven, or simply “as good” as others there.

As an admin, the majority of my work exists to support other people. I currently support two managers—they’d probably be called General Managers or Directors at other companies—plus a team that has ranged from 30-60 people at one time or another.
Many, many people perceive that since I am in a support capacity, I should drop whatever I am doing, and immediately address their needs, as though we had reverted back to medieval times and I’m a local serf.. There are some people I do actually do this for—my managers…or people who treat me like an equal. My perception is that this is an entirely fair reaction on my part.

To continue, many people at this corporation exercise the right to work from home when they have a sick child, or work being done they need to be present for. During the holidays, we experience a phenomenon called “blue flu” where lots of people take vacation—since no one is around, there’s little to nothing for us “support” people to do—so we also elect to work from home, if possible. Unfortunately, perception kicks in again—we’re hourly, so evidently that means if we’re not onsite, under the watchful eyes of our managers, we couldn’t possibly be working. Never mind that literally thousands of other people at our company work remotely each day—we’re somehow not trustworthy enough.

Perception can lead you into all sorts of grey areas. There has been a rise in employee theft of software. Perception: benefits are being cut and the company isn’t rewarding performance like it used to, so theft makes up the difference. Outside our little world, there’s a larger scale war of beliefs and differences. Perception that one way is the right way (my morals should be your morals), that everyone has equal opportunity when they don’t (children going to private school vs. No Child Left Behind Schools) and that my way of thinking is the right way of thinking (while I like to think of myself as a bright person, I concede that there are many things I am not an authority on, and therefore have a l great deal to learn). The difference between the first two, and the last one I that I perceive there is more than one way of thinking.
The world would be a better place if more people came to that realization, ithink—but then, that’s just my perception

2005-02-03T16:13:00.000-08:00

Definition of self, or what makes me “me”

As nwdragon’s career progresses, and mine sits at “off” on the gas burner, we contemplate all number of potential changes to ourselves, our work, and our living situation. This exercise has led me to think more deeply about what I want to do, who I want to be, and who I am. Troubling topics, all. ;-)

I don’t feel I handle change well—there are perhaps few people who truly thrive on it. As I grow older, par for the course, I handle big change even less well. I think I’m traumatized from our less than pleasant trek to Fremont, CA, in 1997. Yes, it was quite a while ago. Perhaps others would move past their experience. I have not, simple as that.

Both of us were genuinely, expansively unhappy during our Mid-Cal hiatus. Many things contributed to that state: crappy jobs, horrible commutes, ridiculously expensive living conditions, unfriendly neighbors within the apartment community. No friends, no 30-minute drive family members. You can see there would be a lot to overcome.

In Seattle, we have a home—not a house. We have poured ourselves into it since purchasing in 1999. We’ve done drywall, texture-painted, installed Pergo, and painted almost every room. Our hands have touched every room at one point or another, and, in conjunction with many things, this makes this place a home, rather than just a house.
It’s a 10 minute drive to a big body of water. We are surrounded with green living things.
Our cats—all three—are fat and lazy and a joy to come home to every day.

I have a job that I am at peace with about 50% of the time—the other 50%, it’s not my boss, or my work, but rather the attitude of the corporation itself that frustrates and irritates me. I am involved in an exciting industry, and I work with many wonderful people—I’ve also somehow gained a reputation for being a go-to person, and get occasional random call like yesterday’s where someone from MSNBC needed my help.

I drive a black Saturn VUE, and I love it. And herein is where the definition of self starts inquiring. I had to take my car in to get the horn serviced (don’t ask), and I was given a blue Neon as a loaner. Argh.
As I drove it home yesterday, I felt a sense of unreality—my personal perception shifted. My husband has never been in this car. It has no sense of him, and no history of us. I didn’t have my garage door opener—nothing for the house--or my work parking sticker—nothing for work. And it occurred to me, here I was, seemingly a completely different person just by dint of what car I had ended up in. All signs of my past and present erased with a simple rent-a-wreck.

How odd that something so trivial could so alter my sense of self.

2005-01-26T22:12:00.000-08:00

The disturbingly gratifying nature of evil

I would be concerned that I spend too much time following the lives of Buffy and Angel…but then I read my fellow bloggers, and all is well.

Faith. Glory. Lilah. Holtz. Faith was unabashedly dark, the other three, unequivocally evil. They did as they pleased, to the tune of agonizing emotional, physical and mental pain inflicted upon others. They had fun, fun, fun (and no one took the T-Bird away).

Frighteningly, there’s an obvious appeal to evil. Evil means never having to apologize. Kill your minion? There’s a line of eager volunteers out the door who can’t wait for you to wring their necks. Not only will they grovel at your feet, they’ll worship you for making them do it. Shades of the Mansons, Jonestown, Heaven’s Gate. Beat them down, shred their personalities, their psyche, their selves—then build them back in your image.

What about signing away your soul to eternal darkness? There’s reassurance there, really—you always know where you’ll stand. Extreme job security. I guess even a certainty of an afterlife, of sorts; so what if you’re slaving away in a Hell dimension for all eternity? You got to lie, cheat, steal, connive—oh, and have naughty “Pretend I’m Fred” sex with the darker Wesley Wyndham Price. Hmm—wonder if Lilah got that into her contract before she signed…

And then there’s Holtz. Granted Holtz had some evil, evil things done to him. Angel ate his entire family, after all. But to hold a grudge basically beyond the grave, to plot to take another being’s child, raise it in the worst of all hells, and breed unmitigated loathing and hatred for its parent?

Glory was a god—as a deity, one might imagine her difficulty in comprehending her actions were anything but sublime.

Lilah was a backstabbing lawyer at Wolfram and Hart. Most people would require nothing beyond “lawyer” to explain her actions.

Holtz is some psychiatrist’s case work for life.

But these three, they reveled in their doings. While they were cutting the heart out of their enemies (and whoever else was around at the time) they experienced no remorse. No second thoughts. No concern about what others might think, what others might do, or what would happen tomorrow.

How gratifying...

2005-01-25T21:48:00.000-08:00

"It's a moo point".

It's like a cow's opinion.. it doesn't matta.
--Joey, on Friends

2005-01-22T14:45:00.000-08:00

Favorite weird dream of all time (makes my husband give me "the look")

You know, the "oh my god, what have you been smoking and why didn't you share?" look...

I'm standing in a meadow--typical cheesy "love" scene, where they're wildflower, and a blue sky straight out of photocopy. I see my husband across the field, and--yes, in slow motion--we begin to run towards each other. Bound...bound...bound...

The distance between us narrows, and we finally are about to leap joyously into each other's arms. I reach out and touch Marc, and...

He explodes.

Hey, this is a rated G dream. When I say "explode", I don't mean in a first person shooter, graphic violence, rater "M" for mature way. So I have three words for you.

"Balloons" and "pink bunnies".

Marc explodes into thousands and thousands of bobbing pink bunny balloons. They bear a slight resemblance in shape to the Energizer Bunny, but no drums, no sandals, no sunglasses. The balloons bounce lighly over the meadow like waves of pink water.

I had a friend who had a dream interpretation book--bunnies came back as having something to do with fertility. Hmm. This is not a topic I believe I'm currently interested in.

As far as the bunny symbolism goes, god, it's a good thing I'm not Anya from Buffy.

2005-01-21T21:17:00.000-08:00

Weird Dream #487--a segue from our more moody musings

I'm dressed in this spectacular midnight blue dress with (tasteful) sequins and embroidery--sleeveless, with long, full skirts--it's got the over-the-top elegance that makes me think I'm going to a costume ball as Night. I'm finishing the final touches on my ensemble when my escort rushes in to tell me we're running late, and we dash out. The whole thing has the flavor of the 40s--the men in the crowd we travel with are all in evening attire with black ties and white cashmere scarves.

We arrive in a train station, and they're ripping in and out with barely enough time for people to load and unload--it has more the feel of a subway station populated with steam engines.

I realize suddenly my hair is falling down out of its styling and so I rush towards the back of the station to try and put it back up--I have long, long hair again, and it's in this elaborate upsweep of combs and jewelry. A moment later I realize that my fellow travelers are boarding one of the trains--I try and dart back through the crowd, but the wooden doors slide shut before I can reach them, and none of my companions even look twice before they are whisked away. I board the next train hoping it will take me to their destination, but when I debark, I'm in a massive, techno-Tokyo city setting, with neon, and noise and no one who speaks any English. My tiny handbag contains no cash, so I manage to find an ATM, but I can't understand the instructions. It spits a receipt back out at me that says "FEE: 10,000", but no money, and now I'm wondering exactly what kind of currency conversion factor is at work here--a moot point, given I don't even know what country I'm in.

Now gee,that's not any sort of dream dealing with the fear of being left behind is it?

2005-01-18T22:43:00.000-08:00

Good and evil--we're a little rusty on the subject

How does one define good and evil?
Good and evil. Unlike in Buffy and Angel, these terms are very, very hard to define—we don’t have the bumpy forehead ID technique readily available—although we are quite good at singling out people when they look or act different.

Our world has no one definition for these terms—or rather, if there is one definition, it belongs to only one person, or a rarefied group of people who share a code of beliefs and ideas. That could be alright, if a single, narrow viewpoint hadn’t resulted in a few major conflicts over the years. Small things, you know, like the Crusades. The Holocaust. Jonestown.

You might think, to define good and evil, you should start by trying to see both sides of a situation. At work, when someone is less than polite, or makes what I consider a ridiculous request—I need a conference room for 500 with AV two days from now, and oh yeah, make spin some straw into gold while you’re at it—I try to imagine what might be going through their minds. Maybe they’re having a bad day. Maybe it’s trickle down—their boss is asking them to do this, or their boss’s boss, and they are stressed about not being able to fulfill their commitment. Same with the people who cut me off in traffic, attempt to brush through me as though I didn’t exist, or park so close to me in a lot I have to squeeze through the passenger door to drive away.

In imagining the potential scenarios leading up to these admittedly less than horrific acts of human cruelty, I tread water, firmly resolving that, outside of these petty acts, these people are good, friendly, nice, compassionate—take your pick of adjectives. Suddenly, I have discovered the greater good.

But then I read the paper, or check out news online, and there are some people I just can’t empathize with. The teenagers who put a Husky “out of its misery” by shooting it to death with a bow and arrow. Wanna-be suitors in India, who, in retribution for having their affections spurned, throw boiling oil or chemicals on the girls they were infatuated with. Executives who strip their employees of benefits in the name of shareholder value, leaving them barely able to eke out a living and buy the very products they create. There are no consequences for these actions, or when there are, they’re minor, laughable. My instinct to try and understand—their actions, the lack of punishment-- kicks in, and I feel pulled under—once, twice…going down a third time. A sudden rush of desire to move to Canada hits me…or the fervent wish to be like Buffy, super powers and all…except the bad guys I fight don’t have the bumpy forehead. Their ugliness is all inside.

Humanity can be better than this, I think, and I tread water.

But not until we all have the same definition for good and evil.

2005-01-12T22:44:00.000-08:00

Angelus goes to Hell (but our world's a little fuzzier on that topic)…

So in Buffy/Angel, when you're bad, you go to Hell. And not necessairly the Christian-fire-and-brimstone-thousand-torments hell. Not even the Dante's-Inferno-Rings-of-Hell Hell. Hell in Buffy and Angel is a nasty, nasty place; it's almost defined by the individual, because one person's hell could be another person's home (for example, Angel's son Connor was brought up in a hell dimension. Saying Hell was all relative to him, since he'd lived there for 16 years).

Then there's Heaven. Buffy sacrificed herself for her sister, died in the process, and went to what she felt was Heaven. She was warm, and loved, and, as she so succinctly put it "Done". No more slaying vampires and averting the end of the world one more time.

The difference between the Buffy/Angel Heaven and Hell, and our world's is that theirs was a visible, tangible place. People actively went there, people actively returned--you couldn't necessarily buy a ticket on Alaska, but the travel was do-able if you put in the effort. You could hear descriptions--wonderful, or horrifying--and be content in the knowledge that these were real places. Therefore, there were real consequences for actions.

Our world, things are a lot more fuzzy. Every day you read about the horrible things we do to our planet, our fellow species, and each other. People die. And you have no idea what happens afterward to them. Are they rewarded if they were good? What if they were unspeakably selfish or evil?

I like the thought that there is some entity out there that can define good and evil, hold us up against it, and figure out where we belong. I also like the idea that if you're willing to recognize you made a mistake, you get the chance to try again. But our world is filled with nuances that Buffy and Angel didn't deal with on a day-to-day basis in theirs. Again, evil was generally bumpy--vampires, demons, or maimed minions. The cloest thing to ambiguity I recall was when Angel and his gang had to deal with Jasmine, this mythical being who brought peace to all who heard or saw her. There was, of course, that small issue with losing your free will...Interesting question: if you lose your free will, can your actions really be held against a measuring stick of good and bad? And if there is such a thing as reincarnation, are you ever really done?

Next: Self-imposed blinders, and being between a rock and a hard place (ouch)

2005-01-10T23:01:00.000-08:00

(to the tune of “Wouldn’t it be nice…” by the Beach Boys)
Wouldn’t it be nice if there were demons?
Then life might make sense after all…

My husband and I spent the two weeks between Christmas and New Year’s watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Seasons 1-6) and Angel (Season 4). It was an addiction—we would start watching at around 11 in the afternoon, and go until 2 in the morning., pausing to make dinner, order take out, or possibly do laundry.

I was thinking about Buffy and Angel, and the concepts surrounding these characters, and the world they live in—I suppose every woman who watches the show imagines how it would be if they were Buffy, and most of the guys wonder what it would be like to be Angel. Then, invariably, you get pulled out of your day dream by reality; usually something painfully mundane, like the alarm clock going off (you don’t wake up in a musical) or the phone ringing at work where someone asks you why their hard drive hasn’t come in.

While I figured out where the hard drive was (in transit between Dell hell and Redmond) I thought some more about Buffy, and what the appeal was beyond having super powers. I surfed the web and read about tsunami victims, voting fraud, and AIDs devastation. And it occurred to me that these things aren’t discussed on Buffy or Angel—because they don’t happen there.

Buffy and Angel live in a world where there are demons. Vampires. Magic. Apocalypse(s) that aren’t preached to you from a street corner by someone who thinks they saw the last one they preached about.

In short, evil is recognizable—it wears a bumpy face and drinks blood, or casts spells to try and destroy the world.

Evil can be defeated—it’s not easy to defeat it, but it can clearly, concisely be defeated. You may have to kill your lover (but, hey, he was evil when you started) or kill a goddess (and sacrifice yourself to save your once a key, now living energy sister), but when the end of the day comes, you’ve made a difference.

How many of us can say they clearly, unequivocally cast off the qualifiers of their own religious beliefs, upbringing, or racial biases , and recognize true evil if they saw it here?

Next: Angelus goes to Hell...but our world's a little fuzzier on that topic

2004-09-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

And what's up with the manual?

C'mon people, for crying out loud, you get paid to write these things. A manual that leaves out basic information such as "To throw a Hellfire vial, press Y and squeeze the right trigger" is a pretty dismal creation.
I also love the list of kicks and punches that re-repeated on two pages. Deja vu, already.
Hey weren't we just talking about that?
Why am I still playing this game if it infuriates me so much? Well, one reason is that I've never played a game all the way through. You may be right in thinking, "well, why the f*%$ would you choose this one?" The other reason--now it's personal. I've had to turn on infinite health (which is surprisingly limited at times) and Slayer power, and I STILL can't get all the way through the level. Lousy design, bad player, or a combination of both--I will complete this game, my pretties.

2004-09-29T21:28:00.000-07:00

Buffy can't swim

Let's talk about craptacular game design for a minute.
I've spent the last three nights playing the same level in Buffy--maybe I should call it "Buggy". Or at least "Crappy game design, the Vampire Slayer".

Funny that Buffy can't swim. I mean, granted in Season One, she did drown, but that's easy to do when you're knocked unconscious. When you unintentionally fling yourself into a pool, or the ocean, fully conscious and not wearing your prom dress, I think you should be cut a little slack. But no, instead you drown. This feels lazy and stupid on the designer's part for this title.I freely admit, I am not a designer--far from it. I've barely played video games until the past year.
And yet...
For some silly reason, I think they should be fun. Life's more than enough "not fun"--there's plenty of "not fun" to go around. Therefore I think this is a small request. These people are paid to do something thousands of geeks drool at the thought of partaking in.

So, note to you game designers out there...

I do not find the recorded screams as a vampire snaps Buffy's neck even mildly amusing--especially not after the 15th time (didja cheap out and only record the one scream, guys?)

And the vampires themselves--I think there may be five. Way to cheap out on the graphics--if it were a movie, the same guy would play every character. Seriously, you'll dust a vamp, round a corner, and double-take, because Look! There's the same vamp. Wait, maybe it's the first vamp's evil twin Bruce. You dust him, and maybe another five minutes later in this interminable level, look! It's Bruce III!

I do not find the fact that halfway through the game, the vampires suddenly acquire mystical powers that stun my character--thus allowing a few free vampiric shots on me--amusing or in line with the overall Buffy story arc. If you're going to do an IP based game, buys, could you maybe watch a season or two>

I loathe whoever did game balancing. They seemed to think it was fine to have one save point--at the end of the entire level--and maybe a total of two health elixirs for that same level. Yeah, wow. Great game design there guys--play it until you throw your controller down in disgust and walk away, thereby guaranteeing your customer thinks twice about ever purchasing a product from you again. Well, I guess you got your retail price for it, huh? But wait...what if they don't ever buy from you again? Didja take that into account?

My controller did almost end up on the floor in disgust, but I love my MadCatz controller, and so I placed it down gently and proceeded to lob epithets and single-digit gestures at the TV as I turned my Xbox off.
Any game you have to turn infinite health on to even play is NOT a fun game.
Tomorrow night I'll try and kill the shrimp demonsm and Bruce I, II, and III again. Till then...

2004-09-26T19:10:00.000-07:00

I was going on about video games.
And getting involved in video games. It's amazing to me how much in common you find with random people when you play games. I went to a goodbye party for a writer leaving Seattle to go to work in Edmonton, Canada for a video game developer (given the locale, and your familiarity with game devs, you can probably guess what developer). At least four other people there played video games--nice to immediately latch onto a "something in common".

So, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I was excited about the game. I actually still am. As a newbie gamer, there a couple things--well, more than a couple--that are important to me. Easy controls is one. Please don't make me "pull right trigger, and hold the Y button down while simultaneously moving the left thumbstick". I don't have coordination problems, but neirther am a hard core player yet.

Another issue for me is an easy map. If you're not familiar with games, you might not realize pretty much every game has one kind of map or another, even if you never see it. For me, a good game will help guide me to where I need to go, rather than letting me thrash about in the wilds, get killed multiple times, and then throw the controller down in disgust.

Buffy does both of these pretty well. As far as maps go, I've only gotten lost on one level. I mastered the basic controls quickly--there's a tutorial at the beginning that walks you through them. The graphics are also pretty good, and with the exception of Sarah Michelle Gellar, they were able to corral all the other primary Buffy actors for voice talent.

Sadly though, I have more complaints than kudos. I'll play another few evenings here, and then rant the night away.

2004-09-23T19:56:00.000-07:00

So I'm going to try and write, and stuff, and the topic that I've picked is video games, and game design.

I actually work in the industry for a large scale publisher, and while video (or "console") and PC games haven't been my thing thus far, I'm really working on getting more into them. Yeah, I'm sure this sounds like a horrible, taxing chore to many, but I feel easily addicted, and there are many, many (one more) many other things I like to do with my time, so it really is a bit of a sacrifice for me.

Then there's the whole husband thing. My husband is an avid gamer--a "playing EQ since it launched, rarely met an RPG I didn't like" kinda gamer. He's been trying to get me to play EQ, or Star Wars Galaxies, or Diablo for years now, and I've always been reluctant. The little flamingo with horns thinks the relucatance may stem, in part, from the simple desire of "you want me to, therefore I won't". But the flamingo with horns will just have to deal now.

We're the wave of the future, us girl gamers. Face it, boys, the 16-24 year-old market is about tapped out. Publishers and developers need to explore new demographics, and those 3-16 years olds don't have a whole lot of disposable income. The baby boomers are starting to get interested, and there's a lot of them at sites like http://zone.msn.com/en/root/default.htm. But there aren't a lot of successful subscription based sites out there. Where next...who has a lot of disposable income...who could be a brand new market?

Well, duh.

In my quest to increase my knowledge, I've checked out some games from our games library at work. I happen to be a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I thought maybe it would help me to get engrossed if I could play a character I was familiar with. There has been some good, and some bad, and some "ack". The ack--that's because I've found I like playing games. Crud. Another way to waste time...and not write.

Tomorrow I'll try and talk about what's been good and bad about the Buffy game.
Ta ta from the flamingo...