On Locale

So, I left my apartment of 5 years, because I couldn't find a stable job, my lease was expiring, I absolutely refuse to move back in with my mother, and moved in with my friends because they had a somewhat available room. That was in January. It's March now, and I'm only just now entering into an employment situation. I do enjoy it here, a lot more than I would have expected for my first roommate scenario, another instance wherein luck simply has my back, though I feel perpetual guilt as regards my inability to chip in on grocery runs. For what it's worth, Ian has an excellent job wherein he makes considerable cash-money, and has a tendency to waste it on things, so hey, he's definitely helping me. That's sort of noble, right? At least he doesn't feel like he owes me anymore.

That's good, right?

Anyway, over the Christmas break, it was brought to my attention that the older of my two brothers, they both being older than myself by a good many years, is absolutely intent on my joining him in literally running away to the circus. A little background is necessary. One of my brothers' old friends went to work lighting for Barnum and Bailey a long while back, ended up marrying a performer, and now they have two kids. The younger of my brothers planned to join him once, but his fiancée got pregnant, thus anchoring him to a specific location. The older brother, however, took their old friend up on his offer to come join him years later, and is now thoroughly enjoying a life on the road.

I mean, living on a train, how can you not?

He performs basic labor work, but really loves working for the circus, and can apparently get me a job doing the same. Knowing that my time in my beloved apartment was up, I began to investigate the offer, but eventually backed down after realizing how little money he actually makes. At the time I was laboring under the delusion that I could gain employ at the same location as Ian. Needless to say, that didn't pan out. Now, three months later, only just having secured a position at Lowe's, I'm beginning to think Matt, said brother, has made me an offer I can't refuse.

You see, I've been wanting to move to the Pacific Northwest for as many years as I can remember having any sort of plan for my life. Before I graduated, I planned on staying in Denton for a few years to save up money, then make the move when I felt I was suitably wealthy for such a journey. Ian and Sam, his girlfriend, have similar goals, as have all of my closest friends over the years, so I felt living with them and making one mass exodus would be the best way to ensure a safe transition. As I sit here smoking my pipe, I feel a certain pang of short-term nostalgia, having this grand feeling about my future whilst writing a simple press release for my mother, feeling like writing was the ideal career for me, tobacco smoke wafting in front of my miniature laptop. Sometimes simple little choices, like choosing to take a class on writing fiction just to fill some elective hours your last semester of school, can change your entire life.

Or at least the life you were planning.

I'm beginning to feel that the wanderlust that has always gently prodded the back of my mind for the better part of my life, never getting any real attention as I am such a sedentary, and dare I say hermitic (I'm only just now, some months later, realizing I originally used the word "hermetic" here, which is an interesting word in itself, but not quite what I was aiming for, and yes, spellcheck, I'm using the right word now, go away), individual, has finally been given its time in the spotlight. I have the chance to look at my possessions, which I did oh so recently, and trim them back even further, until I'm left with only what I must keep by necessity. At which point, I will pack a few bags, get on a train, and never be tied to any one location again. I have the opportunity to remove all the distractions that keep me from writing, and live with an cast of interesting characters, in a fascinating environment that constantly changes. I know it sounds vaguely cliché, but I don't see a permutation of events wherein I can possibly avoid writing daily. About wildly engaging subjects, no less. Furthermore, it's an opportunity to take the sedentary nature out of myself, remove the consequences of eating out of boredom, and get regular exercise as part of my job description.

It's a chance to change.

I wanted to move to the Northwest as my next step, and I still intend to, eventually. But I think, before I'm too old, I need to get up, go outside, and see what's going on in the world.

This is my chance to finally have those interesting stories I've always wanted to tell.

On Regularity

Where do you draw the line between ritual and routine? Is it monotonous, or majestic?

On the Ladies

These fucking women are gonna kill me.

On the FFXIV Open Beta

So, I've played for a bit, and I feel it only appropriate to vocalize my reactions. As a preface, I think it's appropriate to regard XIV as an upgrade or continuation of XI. Many of the players are the same, the development crew, hell, the director wanted the virtual worlds of each game to be linked, allowing characters to pass from one to the next and back again.

That being said, I feel like XIV is like some horrible marketing pitch gone awry. For every thing they've done right, there's something horrible lurking just behind it, whispered in a tone barely audible so as to hide its dark nature.

We've greatly improved character customization!
But we're taking away the auction house.

You can now move elements of the HUD to any part of the screen you want!
But we've removed all the Final Fantasy job classes.

We've made combat more active and engaging!
But you'll never figure out how to equip new actions or abilities.


Fighting, Crafting, and Harvesting all grant experience!
But you can only get full exp for 8 hours a week. 

We've drastically improved the graphics and transitions between zones!
But we're optimizing it for the eventual PS3 launch, have fun PC users.


Don't get me wrong. I am a Squaresoft fanboy above all else, and if the last two years of XI taught us anything, it's that SE will do whatever it takes to hang on to any patrons they have left. I'm sure, with the masses flocking to the open beta to see whether or not it's worth dropping $75 on the collector's edition (which also entitles owners to access one week before the official launch), SE will be forced to face the fact that many of their changes are bullets being fired directly into their executives' feet. I'm also fully aware that this is still a work in progress and there are many parts of the game that haven't even been translated from the original Japanese yet (terrifying as that concept seems with less than 20 days to the commercial launch).


All I'm saying is, as it stands, running poorly on my computer, granting a few novelties and a lot of regrets, I'm not impressed.

On Purpose

Starting this at 12:23 PM (the noon one), you can look at the timestamp to find out when I finished.

I'm sitting in the bathtub sideways, my netbook placed on a chair out of range of the water, listening to the Turtle Island String Quartet's rendition of Dave Brubeck's Blue Rondo ala Turk on repeat. Why? Because it seemed like the only reasonable thing to do with too much nicotine in my blood, having stayed up most of the night playing Borderlands. I've changed the look of the blog and taken it off my Twitterfeed account so as to avoid the whole process of my messages being forwarded to Facebook, and thus my family and other such undesirables. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the random idiots who read KaizoPapercraft and add me as a friend on the book of faces, but they really don't need to read what I have to say here.

No one does.

That being said, I've decided to re-purpose this travesty into a live journal of sorts (say, that'd be a clever name for a product like blogging, eh?), because what else would be more narcissistic, and we must always live up to the ridiculous titles we choose for our interweb endeavors. And yes, it occurs to me that this was originally intended for just such a purpose, and it also occurs that I'll have forgotten all about my resolution in 24 hours time. I still have the hardcover journal I got when I was 9 years old. At first, the entries were short, bland, only a few days apart; still excited to have a book of blank pages with Dinotopia art on the cover, for no purpose other than to record my thoughts. As time progressed, the entries were spaced out by months, and eventually years. The last time I saw fit to put pen to overly-glossy page was in high school, over 6 years ago.

But now! Oh my, we have such wondrous tools. Why, I can take a low-resolution picture on my cellular telephone, and in moments post online for no one to see. Who needs flying cars when we can share pointless information at lightning speed? A glorious future to be certain. I’m positive this new toy will hold my attention, not like all those old ones, promise.

So why the tub? Not sure. It seems to be my ultimate recoil. I’ve done some of my best writing in the tub. Hell at this point I’m not even sure I can write anywhere else. That particular habit started last winter, while I was drafting the last philosophy essays I would ever be required to write. Mainly it was just a nice warm place to get some work done without all the distractions in the living room. It goes further back than that, though. I used to get sick quite often in middle school. Allergy to a particular, nearly-omnipresent meat preservative. Spent quite a lot of time in the bathroom, expelling the contents of my digestive tract. At some point I realized that the tub was a nice relaxing place where, should the need arise, I only had to crawl a foot or two to hang my head over the commode and heave until satisfied. Not that it was ever satisfying… I’ve seen alcoholics decide to go vomit, and walk out of the restroom looking downright cheerful. Good gods that seems like the worst sort of existence.

Anyway, a live journal that isn’t on LiveJournal. As I write this I only know one person who might possibly read it within a day or so of publication, and not by stumbling across it or inquisitively clicking a link after seeing that I host more than just KaizoPapercraft, as per my Blogger profile. You see, about two months ago I was literally cleaning out my closet when I happened across old pictures from my time served in band in high school. Glancing at the images of my on-and-off girlfriend of four years, I got the devious notion that I should send her some casual, non-committal message over the face books. We hadn’t spoken in over 4 years. Within 48 hours we were right back to where we were in high school, and at this point I’m fairly certain I’m going to marry her in about 5 years’ time. Funny how little, seemingly inconsequential decisions can have, in fact, the most drastic of consequences.

So, why start writing again? Combination of several elements. First and foremost (let’s be honest here), I’m bored, hopped up on chemicals, and I need to occupy myself so I don’t fall asleep mid-day…again. Beyond that? I read through Transmetropolitan again. I think Spider is who every aspiring writer should idolize. Though the critical point about reading through them again is, the ending is terrifying, right up until the last few pages. While in conversation with said no-longer-ex-girlfriend, the topic of “What would you do if you found out you only had a year to live?” came up. My immediate response was to begin writing. Wouldn’t tell people, wouldn’t mourn my own passing. I’d start writing and not rest until I was sure I got all of my ideas down on paper.

So I suppose I’m writing because, I know this is what I want to do, what I need to be doing constantly, and I’m usually not. So we write. We write about anything and nothing. We record our daily bullshit so that we feel strange when not writing. Develop a habit so strong that you won’t be able to break it, even if you try. Sounds nice, huh?

---

Well then. Where to begin? Other than…you know, the beginning of the post, which is, at this point, long gone. How about with the current predicament?

I am unemployed.

I graduated this last May. Baccalaureate in Philosophy, minor in Japanese. Obviously I didn’t have a career in mind when I chose the field of study. In fact, that’s a bit of a funny story:

During my freshman year I was having the classic identity crisis, having been told I must choose a major by the end of my sophomore year, effectively being told to choose my destiny by age 20. I was officially listed as a Computer Science major, and hated every minute of my only class on the subject thus far. I was on the phone, panicking in the general direction of my mother, when she told me, “Employers don’t care what you studied, they just want to see that you stuck it out for four years and got a degree.” I trusted her opinion, as she’s a VP for an insurance company and looks at a handful of resumes every day. At that moment, I looked up at my dormitory bookshelf, at the philosophy paperbacks my dad had given me for no real reason. I was enjoying Introduction to Ancient Philosophy, and acing it without trying. It just sort of clicked. Four years later, I have a degree in a completely useless, but fascinating subject.

So really I’m just looking for any job that will pay the bills. Surprisingly difficult in a town full of college kids when the economy is shit to begin with. I even got turned down by Walmart when I had a moderately influential contact at the store vouching for me. Walmart. Fuck me that was depressing.

Anyway, the plan right now is to save up money and move out west. Vancouver is ideal, but I’ll take Seattle or Portland. That general area. The plan was to stay here in Denton while I saved up cash for the transition in about two years. Having been looking for any job since April and turning up absolutely nothing is not helping with this plan. In the last few months plans have changed for other reasons (namely that chick what done got back into my life). Her plan (when she gets home from the Peace Corps in December…oh yeah, didn’t I mention that? She’s out to save the world one asshole at a time), is to get herself back in school, probably University of Houston, and get a Master’s. Not being able to find employment while simultaneously living on my mother’s dime, combined with my potential wife moving back to Houston means I’ll be doing the smart thing; that is, moving back in with my mom so I can save up metric shit tons of currency while Elizabeth finishes school. Even on minimum wage, I’ll be able to put away like $500 a month living with one of my parents. I’d definitely prefer living with my dad if I had the choice, but he’s in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, where employment options are as enticing as Denton. Plus my mom has a pool.

So I’m doing the sad, nerdy, cliché thing, moving back in with my mother. Probably would’ve done it after graduation, but my sister just split up with her husband, and has been living with my mom while she builds up 6 months of work history to qualify for a house loan. She’ll be hitting the 6 month mark in September (as in, the month starting tomorrow), which means I’ll soon be shifting back to (ugh) warmer climes. Also the deadline to renew or terminate my lease was the actual day of graduation, and I had no idea what my future was looking like, so again panicking in the general direction of my mother, I was told to sign another 6 month lease and, should I need it, she would help with rent. Incidentally she was not happy when she had to start putting money in my account again a few days ago.

But it’s not all bad. Originally I had wanted to stay in Denton until I moved out west for my (few) friends here, namely my pal Ian, with whom I am working on the development of a new role playing game system. Not 6 months ago, I was sure we’d have something ready for playtesters by now, and publishing shortly after that. We’re still sitting in more or less the same spot we were 4 months ago, and with the addition of his new girlfriend, he has less and less time to work on game. We’ll get it done eventually, but at this point it looks like it will be years down the line. For the best, really. Gives use time to refine. They’re actually planning to move out to Portland in about a year’s time, so maybe we’ll have the chance to work on things face-to-face again after I leave the city.

In any case, my mom’s place is very nice. I’ll have a private room upstairs, access to an acceptably sized pool (with hot tub, I’ll need to see how well I can write while sitting in that), and be living right in the middle of a considerable commercial area. Lots of job opportunities within bicycle distance. Plus, there’s a Wushu center like, just down the street. Gonna have to get myself signed up for some of that. Elizabeth has been invited to stay with a friend in Houston proper, which is really only an hour away from League City, where I’ll be residing. I should be able to survive the next few years in comfort and convenience, if nothing else.

That being said, I’m losing my fucking mind.

Have you ever had no obligations all weekend? You say, “Wow, all this free time, I’ll get so much done!” Then you end up sitting on the couch watching TV, overwhelmed by all the options? Paralyzed by choice. Now imagine that’s every day of the week for 4 months. There’s this term, “cabin fever.” Ian has to drag me out of the apartment on Fridays, just to make sure I’m not dead. He shows up and I mutter, unshaved and disheveled, “Is it Friday again already?” The only way I’ve been able to mark the passage of time is with weekly airings of new TV shows, which, thankfully, I torrent. If I had cable, I think I’d just melt into my armchair.

My sleep schedule is just…gone. You see, with nothing to get up for, I slowly push my bedtime further and further back each night, dragging my wakeup with it. Eventually, I wind up completely nocturnal. I spent an entire Christmas break once, never seeing the sun in the sky. I’d wake up at 6 PM, just as it was setting, then go to sleep at 6 AM, just as it was rising. I play video games all night, trying to keep the volume of my stereo just loud enough to be enjoyable, just quiet enough not to piss off my neighbors. Since classes started again, I’ve been wearing my headphones at night, just so I don’t interrupt their beauty sleep for the new semester.

I bought a hookah about two months ago. Probably a bad decision. I smoke all night, playing ModNation Racers. I’m up to 2-3 bowls a day. Full bowls. I bought some fancy shisha recently. Supposedly the stuff “royalty and celebrities” smoke. Read some forum reviews which claimed it had a very potent buzz. I never felt a damn thing. I’ve gone through a 250g tub in about two and a half weeks. I know I basically grabbed a trashcan lid and hurled myself down the slippery slope, but the way I look at it I’ll be forced to cut way way back when I move in with a parent who knows nothing like she does how to make you feel guilty. I’ll be forced to smoke outside, or near an open window with a fan on. For the best, really.

I think in the last few days, I’ve finally managed to get myself going toward a normal sleep cycle. Bit of a miracle, really, which is why I’m typing this up now, not taking an extended nap. I need to push through a tired afternoon so I can be flat out exhaust by 10 PM. The Final Fantasy XIV open beta was scheduled to begin tonight, and I figured that would be all the motivation I needed to stay up, but they decided to postpone it, and now I’m nico-caffeinated, and needing something to hold my attention so I don’t crawl into bed (and no, caffeine doesn’t keep me awake. In fact I’ve always had a weird relationship with caffeine. It sort of helps regulate my sleeping habits…holy shit, I just realized I started drinking caffeine again last week, right around the time I started getting back into a normal routine. God bless you Dr. Pepper, and your teeth-rotting magic serum).

…

Haugh…it’s getting to the point where I can’t concentrate. I either need sleep, sustenance, or smoke.

I’ll continue this another time.

On Quotation: The Trilogy

Kaizo: i think i may have a miyazaki marathon some time soon

Kaizo: i just got all the big stuff in from netflix

maguslegend: oh my

maguslegend: Ill bring my cough syrup

Kaizo: hahaha

maguslegend: OH GOD SPIRITED AWAY IS FUCKED UP

Kaizo: perhaps i'll attempt to build howl's moving castle in the time it takes to watch the movie

Kaizo: time to crank it up to ultra speed

maguslegend: lightning papercraft

Kaizo: i think the result would just be shreddd paper and a man coated in glue

Kaizo: naked

Kaizo: holding xacto knives

maguslegend: you have to record it and put down the scissors when the credits end

maguslegend: and yes

maguslegend: that is how it would end

maguslegend: I think you need to get a picture like that

maguslegend: just you covered in blood glue and paper looking deranged holding an exacto knife in your teeth

maguslegend: and half a moogle on your head

Kaizo: heh

Kaizo: i'll just use my halloween costume

Kaizo: something tells me "covered in glue" is just gonna look like some horrible zombie bukakke survivor, though

maguslegend: dude

maguslegend: nobody survives that

maguslegend: nobody wants to live after that...

On Quotation: Part Deux

Kaizo: oh fuck me, there it is again
Kaizo: infinite retardation in translation
Kaizo: so, this paper i'm procrastinating on
Kaizo: parmenides vs. democritus
Kaizo: democritus basically being the first real atomist
Kaizo: parmenides basically being fucking crazy
Kaizo: their big dispute is, parmenides says there can be no void
Kaizo: like, "what is, is, and what is not cannot be, because if what is not were to be what is, it would contradict itself"
Kaizo: he works out a bunch of rules as a result
Kaizo: comes to this big conclusion about the apparent plurality we see around us being a inexplicable lie
Kaizo: well, democritus is like, that's nice, except you're insane
Kaizo: there is a void, and all the rules you apply to being should be instead applied to atoms
Kaizo: atoms in the void
Kaizo: well, this translation, apparently the same as the one i was supposed to have read in into to ancient freshman year
Kaizo: totally fucks democritus' stuff up the ass
Kaizo: "he calls substance hing, and the void not hing"
Kaizo: it's THING
Kaizo: and NO THING
Kaizo: you fucking...stupid...argh
SZN: oh
Kaizo: hing?
Kaizo: seriously
SZN: hing is the future tense of hang, obviously
Kaizo: i will hing him for his shoddy academic works?
SZN: hing hang, hung
SZN: yep
Kaizo: what about hanged?
SZN: thats slang
Kaizo: actually it's the reverse
SZN: yeah
Kaizo: hanged is the proper terminology for the past tense of a person being "hung" for punishment purposes
SZN: but not when i just told you hing is future tense
Kaizo: heh
Kaizo: maybe he will be hinged
Kaizo: would you say, he will be well hing?
SZN: if i had just delivered a baby
Kaizo: hahaha
SZN: and done some sort of long term study
SZN: and had the data to back it up
SZN: sure
Kaizo: and wanted to give away that you're focusing way too much on baby peen?
SZN: just another thing for parents to be proud of
SZN: it definitely reflects well on them, ya know
SZN: the dad really
SZN: unless you have a thing for big clits
Kaizo: personally? i do, but this conversation is taking a really weird turn