PAX East 2014

Gamers unite!

Spring in Boston brings sunshine (!), warmth (!!), and 70,000 nerds in one spot (!!!). Yes, it's already time for the annual Penny Arcade Expo!

Here are pictures from Day 1.

And here is Day 2:

PAX splits the enormous Boston Convention and Exhibit Center essentially in two: PC/video games, and table top games. 

The former attracts more people, which means you can walk around in a bikini top, a microskirt, and flip-flops thanks to all the body heat and, alas, the wanton farting. The smell of the unwashed is much stronger in this area, too, but statistically speaking that is extremely predictable. 

The good part is, the video games area also contains the highest concentration of people who are really into their costumes, see above. 

Meanwhile, the table top area is a bunch of grown men and women using their imaginations (and miniatures or cards) to play games:

We started off with a Star Wars game (my team, the Imperials, won without my firing a shot because I'm a poor combat pilot--the one always facing the wrong way).

Then we tried the Pathfinder card game. I was an Elf Rogue and it was fun because we won.

Now they're playing some sort of mercenaries game while I blog, see photo above. Given Fragrant Husband's frantic calls to retreat, I believe his side is losing.

While there are a number of babies, children, and women, the menfolk still outnumber us, so some women's restrooms have been relabeled as man-bathrooms, causing no end of confusion when men walk in to find (1) a lack of urinals, and (2) a clean bathroom. Just kidding, ladies can be just as filthy. But since PAX thinks of everything, facilities staff basically never leave the bathrooms so they're always in good condition. This ensures a pleasant experience for all! Take note, Six Flags.

Welp, I'm off to see what my grazing options are. It's been ten minutes since my last snack and we are hungry.

One parting shot:



This post brought to you by Flour Bakery. Flour Bakery: sure the line goes out the door, but the egg in your breakfast sandwich is the size of the hen that hatched it, so: worth it!

Electric Run 5K

Last Friday night, the noble team Splendiferous, led by makeup expert and neurobiology PhD candidate Special K, ran a 5K. That's about three miles, which is barely any distance at all if you're a regular runner. What made this non-race so special was the fact that (a) it was at night, (b) it had glow-in-the-dark courses, and (c) everyone was there to party. Welcome to Electric Run.

I took the above images from the Electric Run website to offer an idea of what the funsies looked like. Electric Run Boston took place at Gillette Stadium. The event was supposed to start at 7:15 PM, but at that time Splendiferous was still doing photo-ops. Despite all the extra glow-in-the-dark gear we brought -- mostly bracelets and night sticks -- we still couldn't hold a candle (wink wink) to the other, younger participants of this event. One guy had re-purposed a biker helmet into a giant bug's head, complete with glittering eye appendages. Many folks had glowing mohawks. And tutus were very popular for some reason. Special K wore one, which, combined with her neon hoodie, made her fairly easy to spot.

As for the "run" itself, no one really took it seriously. People stopped frequently to take pictures against the backdrop of lighting effects, and no one was shy about strolling. There were even mommies with their tiny humans in baby carriages. The only thing missing was dog participation, which is probably a good thing because nervous dogs would have gone insane in those crowds. There must've been at least 10,000 kids in this thing. There were so many people that we just resorted to bellowing out our friends' names to keep track of where everyone was. "Crispy! Crispy!" "Here!"

I lost Fragrant Husband at one point, and while I was hollering for him, one dude yelled, "Christian! Raise your hands!" Without thinking, I waved my hands around like an air traffic controller having a seizure. "You're not Christian!" said the guy. "I was raised Catholic!" I replied gaily, before resuming my search for my mate.

Electric Run organizers plotted a course that started out straightforward, and then became an exercise in uphill exertions. We had to run around some paths that were tricked out with glowing balloons or laser displays, and sometime around the 3K mark, people started pointing and gasping. We looked over and saw dozens of little lights bobbing up and down on ramps. "We have to run up the stadium!" someone panted. This was when Special K and I decided that we were going to get slightly less silly. Until then, we had been freely skipping, jumping, and waving our arms madly, but at that moment, team leader and I just buckled up and ran. Up and up and up we went, and when we got to the top... we discovered that we then had to run down the opposite ramp. So we scrambled to the bottom, only to discover that the finish line was nowhere in sight. "Where does it end?" we grumbled. Eventually, we found out.

The organizers could have used more volunteers, especially when it came to herding us toward the starting line, and it would have been nice to get sandwiches or something at the end. We got Rock Star energy drinks throughout the course, and there were a few water stations, but once we triumphantly crossed the finish line -- which did not even pretend to time our run, unlike actual 5Ks or marathons -- we were starving. We managed to find a sandwich shop that did a really good job of feeding all the crazed runners and non-runners. Special K wanted to stay and join the rave afterparty, but the olds (me and Fragrant Husband) voted for home and hearth.

Electric Run promised an experience, and it delivered. 5Ks out of 5K. Fragrant Elephant out.

Snow Storm Nemo

People on TV yelled at us for days about the coming "historic blizzard." News headlines screamed, "ZOMG STORM ON FRIDAY!" for a week. Meteorologists ominously proclaimed that our freezing northern air would mix with moisture coming off of the Gulf of Mexico and dump a metric ton of snow on us. They also helpfully predicted the storm's schedule: snows start at 8 am on Friday, blizzard gets going at 5 pm, and continues through Saturday.

Thus informed, schools shut down. My office declared a half day on Friday.

Fiancé, born and raised a hardy New Englander, got the essential supplies together: shovel, ice scraper, two-alarm chili kit, and a six-pack of beer.

The day of Nemo came. My boss texted me that I didn't have to come in. I went anyway. Fiancé drove us to work on Friday morning amidst...wait for it...not a single snowflake. "They always blow this out of proportion," he scoffed. He dropped me off, and I walked into a ghost town. Everyone seemed to have stayed at home, except for the folks in Finance, because they are hardcore. Well, in any case, better safe than sorry.

The wind began to pick up by noon. A police car blared, "No cahs on the road after foah pee-em!" as I walked out of the building to wait for my ride. We got home safely. Fiancé made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, then prepped for chili while I played Eiyuu Densetsu: Zero no Kiseki Evolution, the talkiest RPG ever made. It was slow going because the game is in Japanese, but I persevered, because I am hardcore. Meanwhile, Fiancé watched reporters cooing endlessly about the storm.

As promised, the blizzard hit that evening. We could barely see outside our windows. We comforted ourselves with delicious chili. We woke up the next morning to the same sight: snowmageddon! Fiancé went outside to shovel the sidewalk. He also trudged to the neighborhood 7-11, which was open because the employees couldn't get out the day before. On the way back, he encountered a runner in shorts, because insane runners here are hardcore, and also dog poop on a freshly shoveled sidewalk, because some people are jerks.

This is what the streets looked like on Saturday:

We had more chili and watched a Mystery Science Theater 3000 of the worst movie I have ever seen in my life, Future War. It tried hard to rip off Terminator and Jean Claude Van Damme, and its graphics looked very eighties despite having been made in 1995. Even with the MST3K insults, it was so awful that I went to bed with a headache. The pain persisted through Sunday.

The snow had stopped by then. We ventured outside for breakfast at our favorite Brazilian eatery. I had my usual cheese omelette, and treated myself to the açaí bowl. I recommend you get açaí, too! It is yummy and good for you.

Here's how high the snow got (those are windshield wipers):

I helped Fiancé shovel this time. We had to cut a path from the sidewalk to the street, which had been cleared by a plow in the wee hours of the morning. As I shoveled, Fiancé heroically freed the fire hydrant from the tyranny of crystalline water ice, aka snow. The TV asked us to dig out hydrants, to help out the fire department, and Fiancé dutifully did his civic duty, because he is dutiful. Also, he is hardcore.

In conclusion: snowmageddon has passed, we still have snow on some sidewalks, everyone's back at work, some coastal areas of Massachusetts got flooded (Fiancé's hometown in particular), and here is a photo of Sheba sticking half her head in my glass just so she can drink my water:

I hope all is well with you also, dear reader. Carry on.

Cloud Computing

Three and a half floppy diskettes became the pinnacle of data storage during my childhood. At school, I would slide the metal cover and gaze raptly at the nearly opaque disk inside. When I discovered the write-protect tab at the bottom, I felt like a genius. I saved my precious text files in my brightly colored diskettes, careful not to exceed the 720 KB limit.

Then, lo and behold, they came up with a 1.44 MB disk! Will wonders never cease? Did technology have any limits?

Well, yes, c.f. the flying car. But today's topic is data storage.

We exceeded even the miraculous 3.5" floppy with the magnificent hard disk drives, still the same size, but tucked away in your PC. Laptops got by with an HDD exactly one inch smaller. In accordance with Moore's Law, computer hardware advanced by leaps and bounds, please do pardon the cliche. In college, my Dell had a whopping 60 GB of memory. In grad school, my Lenovo boasted more than twice that space. In real life, my MacBook enticed me to fill up its 250 GB.

So of course, now I whine when Google only allocates 5 GB to my Drive. I pout when Amazon makes me pay for more storage space for my music. Somewhere along the line, files got bigger, just like my sense of entitlement. And unlike paper files heaped into boxes that trip you over, digital files hide away in virtual folders, their numbers growing as users blissfully click "Save." Don't even get me started on finding a free site for all my photos. And before you ask, no, I don't use Facebook. However, I do read Failbook, for the lulz.

If you're a normal computer user comme moi, your personal digital files will be divided into three categories: photos, music, and MS Office crap. If you're a pirate, you'll also have movies, games, and tons more music. Don't worry; there is no judging here.

Artists have Photoshop files. Architects and engineers who take their work home wind up with gigantaur CADs. Moms will have a bajillion photos, but require assistance to view them. And so on.

The point is, we are in the era of cloud computing, so you'd better have all those files backed up in whichever cloud catches your fancy. Google Drive, Amazon Cloud, Dropbox, Box, iCloud, SugarSync, whatevs. Just do it. That way, if your Acer/Mac/Vaio/Alienware spontaneously combusts from all that porn processor-intensive activity, you won't have to pray to the hard drive gods for salvation. You just log into the Cloud, retrieve your backups, and feel like a tech-savvy, postmodern human. Voilà.

This helpful blog post is brought to you by Lindt Milk and White Milk Chocolate Truffles, Limited Edition Seasonal Flavor. Still delicious even when slightly melted!

Bawdy Dragon-Slaying Song (For Girls)

Context: I told Fiancé this morning that I had a dream about leading an all-girl unit to take over a castle. He eagerly interjected, "And then they had a slumber party and pillow fights to celebrate?" I haughtily replied that this was my dream, and my girls would have more class than that. He continued to fantasize about girls slaying dragons and singing bawdy songs afterwards. Then he turned to me and said, "Do you think you can you compose a bawdy dragon-slaying song for girls?"

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

Readers, I present  to you:

Bawdy Dragon-Slaying Song (For Girls)
For mature readers only.

(rap)
G-g-g-girls, girls, where you at, where you at?
G-g-g-girls, girls, where you at, where you at?
We got sharp nails for killin',
We each is one in a million,
We gon' throw down with a dragon,
To show it we ain't havin'
None o' dat, none o' dat.
No, no, none o' dat, none o' dat.

(verse 1)
Ooooh, a dragon came to my cave
And by cave I mean coochie
And by dragon I mean ding dong
This song is an allegory,
Ooohhh, ohhhh
Ooohhh, ohhhh.

(verse 2)
If you want to slay a dragon,
You gotta figure out its weakness
You gotta get in the right position
You gotta make sure it's defenseless,
Ooohhh, ohhhh
Ooohhh, ohhhh.
(yeah)

(rapping)
You got to use your thighs, use your thighs
You got to squeeze real tight, r-e-a-l tight
You got to use your mind, lose your mind
You got to keep bein' fine, super fine.

(singing)
Ooohhh, ohhhh
Ooohhh, ohhhh.

(verse 3)
So ladies can I get a "Whu!"
(Whu!)
Ladies, let's go give it some
Some love
Some lady love.

(yeah)

Live performances by request only.

Men are from MACS-0647 JD

Remember Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? Remember how enraptured we all were at the oversimplification of supposedly gender-determined characteristics and habits? Remember our delight at discovering that the sexes can be placed into categorized boxes, and therefore all our differences can finally—finally!—be understood?

Okay, okay, you guessed it—I never read it. But my mom did! Also, I looked at the cover. That’s why I’m being a smug bastard about it, despite the fact that it’s really just a common sense manual for communication and mutual respect in relationships. Incidentally, did you know author John Gray got his PhD from a non-accredited, now-defunct university, via correspondence course? Hells yeah! The shortest distance between you and your doctorate is a diploma mill!

Moving on.

I’m a bookworm. Books are my friends. But now that I’m older, I realize that experience is probably the best teacher. Still, sweeping generalizations are super fun, especially combined with a clever title alluding to irreconcilability via the allegory of separate planets, with a bonus nod to ancient gods. In honor of the continued success of Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, I will now make my own extremely generalized conclusions about male behavior, based on the men in my life.

By the way, in case you're not a giant nerd, the title of this post refers to the farthest known galaxy in the universe.

Let's move on again. The topic is Men. Go.

#1: Their Priorities are Effed

Comedian Bill Maher said it best: a man can have a tumor, something bad literally growing out of his body, and he’ll go, “I shall make it my very sixth priority!” Dudes will ignore torn ligaments, chronic swollen sinuses, an infected cut, and all manner of alarming things because they have other things to do. What things, you ask? They’ll usually say they have to work. Work > health. So there.

Guys also rarely prioritize cleanliness and hygiene. I once asked a friend why he always left his socks on the floor, and he replied, “It’s just not on my list of things to do.” I guess in this case he assumed it was on his girlfriend’s list? If so, I hope that isn’t why Fiancé’s home office looks like a tornado made of cats blows through it every day.

Guys are responsive to numbers, though, so they pay their bills on time. Maybe us gals should cite more statistics, like, “Of the violent crimes performed last year, 12% involved socks left on the floor leading to golf clubs to the head.” Yeah, that’ll work.

#2: They Can’t Multitask

Men can’t do a thing and do something else at the same time. It shorts their circuits. This is why guys at the gym take so long to finish with the equipment – they have to stop, sit, and find the right song for that bodybuilding moment. And then they listen to it. And god forbid a Words with Friends notification comes through. They can sit there forever, because they’re so focused on the one thing they’re doing.

Then there are guys who have learned the trick of repeating what you said at key moments so it seems like they’re listening when they were really thinking about their car. The way to beat this trick is to insert something egregious, like, “Today I told my boss her office smells like feet and she gave me a Tootsie Roll.” Or something about having babies for breakfast. Or just say, "I'm pregnant." That'll do the job, guaranteed.

But in any case, make sure you have his full attention first before you enchant him with every single detail of your day. Guys love that. They really, really do.

#3: Their Telepathy is Broken

Modern female humans communicate via intonation, body language, meaningful glances, and timed laughter. Meanwhile, guys use words. So when a harried woman hosting a party waves an unopened bottle of wine at her husband, he will still need to hear: “Please open this bottle of wine, I am too busy doing everything else.”

Of course, if you’re waving an empty glass, you’ll need to state whether you want it refilled or put away. But ideally, he would know. If only man-telepathy worked!

#4: They Don't Understand Their Roles as Exes 

See An open letter to all ex-boyfriends on behalf of all your ex-girlfriends, by the irrepressible Catherinette. I second her with a hearty, "Hmpf!" 

***

I’m sure I can come up with more ridiculous observations profound insights about men, but alas, it’s lunch time. 

If you insist that I write a similar list for women, there's really only one item: 

#1 and Only: We're Crazy.

Please remember to drink responsibly, as tonight is Three Drinks Thursday.

Fiancé Visits the Philippines

Day One - Today we exchanged money, shopped at Duty Free, and got massages. Less than twenty dollars for an hour and a half! Am liking it here already.

Day Two - Have lost Man Card. Fiancée talked me into getting a facial and eyebrow threading. Pain unbearable, surely some form of native torture to weed out the unworthy. Perhaps have not lost Man Card after all.

Day Three - Is it normal to have this much meat for breakfast? Apparently it is.

New Year's Eve - These people are insane. They bought "fireworks" in a box and lit the package without bracing it. It toppled over on its side and more than thirty explosively tipped thermite cannons shot out all over the place. They almost killed a dozen people, including us. I reacted sensibly and hid behind a tree. Now am laughingstock of family for some reason.

Day Five - Visited Grandma, family matriarch. She called me "guapo."

Day Six - Drove up the the highlands to look at partially submerged volcano. Ate at restaurant where they were out of everything. Good; have had too much deep fried pork anyway. Here is picture of me crushing volcano like the oily bohunk that I am.

Day Seven - Corregidor is awesome. Cannons! Barracks! Batteries! History! Man-squee! Saw one monkey.

Day Eight - Went to former U.S. base. Finally had proper American food: Texas barbecue! Clothes no longer fitting properly. Must be bloating from heat and humidity. Yes, that's it.

Day Nine - Drove through rural towns where streets can only accommodate one car. Progress interrupted by domestic dispute: household items being flung out onto street. Children swept everything over to the side so we could pass. Then, on way home, narrowly escaped multiple accidents as we sped down the unlit highway where pedestrians dressed in black nonchalantly stood on the road. Also, it seems overtaking on the right lane is common practice here. Fiancée is not allowed to drive, ever.

Day Ten - Last day here. Sadface. Not looking forward to wintry New England. Must get used to not having servants. How does one wash dishes again? First world problems so overwhelming. Will play on my iPad to feel better.

Happy 2013!

Ho ho ho! Another year soon comes to an end, and a new one begins! Unlike last year, 2012 contained a minimum of fiasco and a maximum of fun, with a side order of frenzy. Whew! Let's review!

January opened with me still getting used to my new job. I moved in with Boyfriend in February. I had Lasik surgery at the end of March, and instantly became 1.75% prettier. Papa came for a visit in April, and Boyfriend casually asked him "if it would be okay if we got married." Papa said yeah, okay.

Boyfriend had a big party to celebrate a milestone birthday in May. We watched a Red Sox game up in a box! Some guy clambered over the seats and tried to crash the party, and security promptly booted him out. There is no messing around in the Fen, kids.

June was a haze of barbecues. July saw me in upstate New York enjoying nature with Boyfriend's extended family. The end of July happened to be my birthday weekend, a milestone one, thank you for asking, and Boyfriend had a surprise up his sleeve. Then Mama came up in August to check out our digs and try to drown us in food. Not to be outdone, we visited her in Philly in September and ate far too much.

We had Canadian Thanksgiving at the folks' place and finally got moving on wedding planning in October. We chose a place and I gently tried to dissuade Fiancé from inviting everyone he's ever met. The month closed with a Halloween party where a dog wandered around dressed as a taxi.

We had two Thanksgivings in November, one rowdy, the other cozy. My bridesmaids helped me find a wedding dress, and they got their dresses, too.

December saw us at the traditional watching of the Boston Pops Christmas Concert. We flew to Manila on the day after Christmas. We have gained weight since, damn the delicious food!

Oh, and early in the year I set up a separate website for my comics. Since it's just a hobby, like my writing, I will consolidate everything here next year.

Those are the highlights of my most excellent 2012. I hope your year has been as delightful as mine, and I hope this holiday season brings you joy and merriment!

HAPPY 2013!!!

Merry!

In true holiday tradition, I have been overeating and drinking. Ho! Ho! Ho!

It started out with the Boston Pops Christmas concert, a Fiance family tradition. As always, the orchestra performed wonderfully. Santa made an appearance to request "The Twelve Days of Christmas," and he was, naturally, immediately tailed by hopeful children. Meanwhile, we downed white wine and snacked on chips and shrimp. Then we went to Capital Grille to have a proper dinner. Fiance had the largest bowl of French onion soup ever -- it was practically a trough. I had oysters to start. Most everyone had steak, but I opted for shrimp stuffed with crab and lobster. There were five pieces but I could only make it through four because of too much pre-eating. So...worth...it...

The next day, we went to the 'burbs for a Yankee swap with the man's extended family. There were meatballs, cream cheese and jam and crackers, turkey, ham, fruits, and several battalions of dessert, all intent on fattening me up. One dish stood out. Here is a photo of Fiance holding forth while an edible Christmas tree made of broccoli, bell peppers, and cherry tomatoes cries out to be eaten:

The following day, Mama stepped off the Acela Express and instructed us to take her to an eat-all-you-can, stat. We spent almost two hours at Maki Maki, a new Japanese buffet. Mama spotted the oysters and that was the end -- she took an entire plateful. She grudgingly allowed me one oyster, the Christmas Eve spirit being truly miraculous. Later, Fiance tried his luck at oysters, but someone had taken a whole lot, and there were none left. I got up to refill my plate no less than five times. Then I realized there was chocolate fondue, and no sooner had I lovingly dipped in my pineapple on a stick than my mother charged up next to me. "Where are the marshmallows?" she demanded. She grabbed two. Then she spent another minute cackling with delight as she poked the marshmallows through the flow of chocolate. She compared the parting of the chocolate to... let's just say she compared it to something biblical. That has nothing to do with Moses.

Now we are off for more food at the future in-laws' place. Food! Food! It will no doubt cure the cold I developed last night. I already feel better thinking about it.

MERRY!*

*Greeting taken from adorable sign sent by future MIL -- knowing us to be godless, she sent the "Merry" and omitted the "Christmas." 

iPhone 5 Review

Ancient Relic Found
(Fragrant Elephant News) -- Drummon 00856

BOSTON -- Archeologists in North America have discovered an ancient device connected to two wires in the remains of a building dating back to the Apple Fanboy civilization. The device is believed to be a throwback to the time before scientists developed the telepathy chip implant, credited with simultaneously triggering WWIII and improving relations between men and women everywhere.

The device has the following dimensions: 123.8 mm L, 58.6 mm W, and 7.6 mm D. It weighs a hefty 112 grams. Its function is a mystery, lead archaeologist Jolette Ochosais confessed. Ochosais added that her personal theory was that it had been a "paperweight," back when our species barbarously cut down trees to print things like "credit card statements" and "books."

- 0 -

Joshing aside, I'm delighted with the iPhone 5. I bought it because my iPhone 4's functionality had been compromised by multiple instances of my dropping it on the pavement, and also into the cats' drinking fountain. Here's what I've found in the couple of hours since I've activated it:

1. Easy activation -- just sign away your privacy and firstborn child!
2. It's insanely light.
3. The display is stunning.
4. The new earphones have spiffy sound and a convenient carrying case.
5. Speaking of earphones, the new earphone bottom placement seems more convenient.
6. Panorama pictures~!

Oooooo

The iPhone 5 is a big improvement over the 4. I'm sure the battery life will be better than my poor 4, too. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ask Siri how to stop Boston from being so freaking cold.

Derivatives!

I've held my silence long enough. The world must know the truth.

Angel is the original brooding modern vampire! Edward Cullen is nothing more than a cheap imitation! Granted, ol' Ned has rosier cheeks, sparkly skin, endless cash, and an oddly supportive family. But Angel/Angelus has that irresistible combination of broody manliness and boyish vulnerability. He wears stylish clothes and has reasonable hair. He fights free from a hell dimension just to be with Buffy! What's Edward done for Bella, huh? I mean, apart from surrendering to her demands for marriage before sex, and then giving her a black AmEx card and a new car? Pffft! I mean, just look at how Angel turned into a bad guy after he and Buffy had an adult sleepover! He even out-creeped Edward in the stalking department! Edward never left a drawing of Bella's sleeping face for her to find on her pillow in the morning! He never killed her teacher or her friend's pet! How is she supposed to know that he loves her?

Note: I'm only up to episode 6, season 3 on Buffy, so my info is incomplete, as if that would ever stop anyone on the internet.

Fun fact: In finance, a derivative is an instrument whose value is based on one or more underlying assets, thank you, Wikipedia.

(Belated) love for Angel aside, I acknowledge that even he is derivative of previous vamps. Here I present the most memorable ones:

See how impressed the Interview with the Vampire guys are? Gary Oldman's Dracula has to be the tortured vampire trope, at least in my lifetime.

So, in conclusion: vampires are so nineties, and zombies are forever. BRAAAAIIIIINNNNN!!!

This post brought to you by an Oreo mini-cupcake from Crumbs Bake Shop.

Buy Your Loved One a PS Vita

Sony knows my heart. Yes, the PlayStation Vita sounds like a new organic yogurt instead of a spectacular handheld gaming device. Sure, Sony Corp. wants to suck you dry by slapping a $250 price tag on the product itself and then making you buy a starter kit with a 4GB proprietary memory card for $40. It's worth it.

Fiancé bought me the PS Vita as a distraction from The Ring of Power, which I was to receive later in the month. He got me Gravity Rush, which I'd raved about after seeing a demo at a GameStop, and he also persuaded the future parents-in-law to get me Uncharted: Golden Abyss. Both games were so gorgeous that I blazed through them faster than a Harvard grad student goes through a stash of extremely wholesome herbal stress remedies.

Gravity Rush features Kat, who falls everywhere.

At first glance, Gravity Rush has all the essentials: a likable lead, mind-blowing gameplay, and mysterious happenings. The game's central feature is the heroine's ability to control where gravity comes from--so if I choose the sky, she "falls" toward the heavens.  NPCs would drop to the ground in fear as my character flew upwards and sideways and slammed gleefully into light poles, hair rippling in defiant resistance to her own gravity manipulation. Like Link in every Legend of Zelda game, Kat hunted precious gems that allowed various upgrades. The story starts with Kat hurtling from the sky and getting right back up. People start calling her a "shifter" and asking for her help. Kat's random acts of good deeds include helping the police capture a master thief, finding lost children, and having utterly bizarre conversations with a scientist and his wife who seem to exist a rift in the time-space continuum. And then there are the "Creators," who change/make reality and I won't even get into it because it's too confusing.

I'm not replaying Gravity Rush, despite my being able to tilt the PS Vita to control my character's movement, which is awesome. See, the combat sucks hard. Kat has to fight off annoying blobs with bright magenta eyes, and as she levels up, these suckers get faster and more frustrating to kick in mid-air. Imagine revving a motorcycle to 85 mph and trying to hit a moving one-inch target with the front wheel. Then you get shot immediately when you miss. Ugh. If I didn't have to fight every single chapter, I'd happily get the DLC just to see Kat's other fabulous outfits, including Ninja, Military, and Cat Girl. Speaking of cat, Kat's powers come from a little kitty with nebula-colored fur. You have to see it to believe it, and being the cat person that I am, I was in ecstasy during the chapter when the cat split into 20 copies of itself and I had to track down every adorable one. So, in conclusion: Dear Project Siren, Please make combat more fun for the sequel.  More cats won't hurt, either. Thank you.

Fun fact: the full Japanese title for Gravity Rush is Gravity Daze: the Physics Generated from the Inner Universe of the Girl who Returned to the Upper Stratum. WHAT. HOW AWESOME IS THAT. (Provided my translation is accurate, of course.) Addendum to conclusion: Dear Project Siren, Please hire me as a localization consultant or translator, you won't regret it. Thank you.

I then moved on to Uncharted: Golden Abyss, part of a series starring Nathan Drake, an affable Indiana Jones/Lara Croft hybrid, but without the hat or the boobs.

This jungle cannot contain Drake's manliness.

Now this game knows what's what. The graphics are jaw-dropping, the sound gets your heart rate up, the combat winsomely kicks ass, and the voice acting and cut scenes deserve awards. In this adventure, Drake's been hired to trek the jungles of South America to find the "golden abyss," which a religious group called the Sete Cidades went looking for ages ago, and then something about the tribes of Mesoamerica. Lots of human sacrifices. Something. Anyway, Drake encounters Marisa Chase, who is so charmed by his rugged manliness that she immediately offers to partner with him. Girl, I hear you. Too bad she refuses to carry a gun, because all of a sudden, Drake has to fend off an army of thugs led by a former general also looking for the golden abyss, more for the gold than for the abyss, obviously. Drake and Chase ("Only my grandfather calls me Marisa!") run like hell, sneak around, swing from vines, leap giant gaps, and do extreme climbing in their quest for precious artifacts, all the while exchanging flirty banter.

I particularly enjoyed the combat system, where Drake shoots at enemies from the cover of a crate or a large rock. In one chapter, I control another character who has a GP32-BND, aka a handheld grenade launcher. I aim right at the bad guys' chests, mwahahaaaa. I'm also pretty good at video game sniping, ever since the NES days of Duck Hunt. And did I mention that in this game, the back of the PS Vita is also a touch screen surface, which you can use to view objects at an angle, or row a canoe? There is so much awesome I can't even.

Uncharted: Golden Abyss is the game to pick up for the PS Vita. I've finished it in Normal and Hard modes, and might even try Crushing. Yikes. In the meantime, I signed up for the Sony Entertainment Network, where Sony gets more of my money when I download games straight into the Vita. I plan to buy Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky.

The moral of this post is: your gamer loved one deserves a PlayStation Vita.

PlayStation Vita: you can't eat it, but you can tilt it.

Lemme try that again.

PlayStation Vita: hello to fun, goodbye to your savings.

Hmmm.

PlayStation Vita: Sony has the technology. It has the capability to build the world's best handheld gaming device. The PS Vita will be that thing. Better than the PSP. Better, prettier, faster.

By George, I think I've got it. Sony, if you need advertising ideas (YOU DO. YOU REALLY DO.) for older Millenials, I'm your girl. 

Hiking the Blue Hills

Yesterday, we tackled the Skyline Trail in the Blue Hills Reservation, south of Boston. It's a nine-mile hike, with lots of rocky hills. LOTS. We're not talking gentle slopes of land here. We're talking this:

Source: Fastest Known Time

The 635-foot Great Blue Hill was the worst. It was awful. It just never ended. It was made even more terrible by the fact that we had thought the hill before it, at 510 feet, was the worst one. Nope. My quads were going, "What? No." My hamstrings were holding union meetings to coordinate a strike. Meanwhile, the bottoms of my feet felt like they were being continuously pummeled by bodybuilder groundhogs.

Fortunately, by that time we had just come from the reservation headquarters, so we'd had bathroom breaks and refilled water bottles. I had a 0.5 L collapsible water bottle, and let me tell ya, I wish I had a CamelBak. Y'know, the little backpacks that secretly hold a bajillion gallons of water and you just turn your head to grab the over-the-shoulder straw and suck in that sweet, sweet H₂O.

What I'm trying to say is, the hike was awesome. I wuv hiking. Here's the one photo I took:

It took us over five hours to complete the hike. We saw deer about three-quarters of the way in. They were pretty! We trekked down to the Ski Area parking lot after we reached the Observation Tower (we followed the round red trail markings instead of the blue lines). Of course, there were no hugs as our group separated, because gross.

I had no ride (Fiancé was busy running a board game at the time), and got dropped off at the T. After those punishing hills, taking the stairs two at a time out of the station was a breeze. Then I plopped into the hot tub. The man came home and baked a stuffed chicken breast and we ate it and watched the tail end of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark and swooned at young Harrison Ford together.

PERFECT SUNDAY, YOU GUYS.

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Dream Vacation

You need to get out of your daily grind every once in a while, to recharge and relax. Summer is the perfect time to wander off into the woods, especially when they come with fully furnished cabins and you bring more alcohol than you can safely drink. That's what family's for!

Fiancé (then Boyfriend) had been priming me for his big family reunion for about a year. As far back as last December, he would remind me to save up vacation time for the week-long trip. Every month included at least one mention of the upcoming vacation. No actual details, mind you--this is a man we're talking about here--so all I knew was that it would be in upstate New York on the last week of July. Would we camp out in the forests? Cheat and stay in charming, rustic little hotels? Guessing is half the fun!

Fortunately, we went to this place. It's a family compound that gets rented out, hurray! There were cabins for every family or couple; two docks; a main house for cooking, dining, boozing, or just hanging out; and, most importantly, a lake and trees as far as the eye can see.

We got this cabin, which also had a baby room (!).

Everyone troops to the main lodge for family time, aka eating and drinking.

Kayaking is one of the many fun activities available!

A canoe is key to good fishing!

I do my Muscle Pose on the diving board.

We were near Lake Placid, home of Olympic training facilities and a mutant alligator, so we stopped by to take silly photos like this one:

Ever try bobsledding in a dress? Doesn't work.

I had the best time. I went swimming (come rain or clouds!), ate excellent food, played board games with kids, and we corrupted introduced a new group of people to Cards Against Humanity.

Now I'm back in my daily grind, ready to take on the worrrrrrld!!!

What day is it?

4th of July Pre-Fireworks Photos

Happy Navy Week! This 4th of July celebration is extra-special because it's also the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, when the Brits fought with the French (as usual), and in the process, pissed off Americans by blockading trade routes, forcing American sailors into their Royal Navy, and supporting Native American campaigns against the, let's face it, non-Native Americans.

Boston's harbors now proudly host the many Tall Ships of the world, such as the one below:

We went on board the Dewaruci from Indonesia. That ship is pimped out with some serious woodwork, as seen in the nameplate on the auxiliary helm:

So pretty! It made me nostalgic for the bench we had on our balcony back in Manila, which had intricate carvings in the bottom storage compartment. Cats liked to sleep in there.

Back to ships -- we've also got some actual Navy warships and a Canadian destroyer (it might be a cruiser) out there. Needless to say, there are also plenty of navy men and women roaming the streets of Boston right now. Sweeeeet.

Today, fighter jets swooped low over the Zakim Bridge in a loud display of military might. In the picture below, you can juuuuust make them out right above the southern tower on the bridge:

I think we're going to a barbecue later, as mandated in the Constitution. Just kidding. Hey, did you know that the "Star-Spangled Banner" only became the US national anthem in 1916? World War I: bringing you passports, national anthems, and the death of millions!

Also, did you know that the Philippines celebrated July 4, until President Diosdado Macapagal changed the Philippine Independence Day to June 12, back in 1964? He asked President Kennedy first if it was okay, of course. Kidding again. He actually requested that he and the first lady postpone their visit to the US because peeps were all, "Girlfriend, we are totes a free nation, why we gotta do everything the US does?" Read all about it here, and marvel at the accuracy of my historical narrative.

In conclusion: Happy 4th of July!!!

29 Life Lessons

Inspired by Thought Catalog contributor Ryan O'Connell's 25 Things I've Learned in My 20s, I also would like to share some lessons from living through my 20's decade, when I saw the invasion of Iraq, the Great Recession, the end of the Sri Lanka civil war, Obama's White House win, the campaign against Muhammad Yunus, the Arab Spring and, appallingly, Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

Here is my List of Lessons Learned in My 20s, one for every year I've been alive!

1. Your mom is always right. Maybe not now, but definitely in the future.
2. The friends who stick around after you've been a horrible bitch to them are keepers.
3. Never let money get in the way of any relationship. It just isn't worth it.
4. Jealousy is normal but unattractive. Someone will always be better than you. Get over it.
5. The grass is greenest on your side, because it's your side. Self-love, baby.
6. Throw up if you're feeling nauseous. Your body wants you to get rid of whatever it is in there.
7. Pay your bills on time. No buts.
8. Read.
9. Accept your feelings and always remember that you can control how you act.
10. Stand up for yourself when someone tries to invalidate your thoughts, opinions, or emotions.
11. Tell or show your loved ones that you love them. Anything can happen tomorrow.
12. Acknowledge that you may be completely wrong.
13. Resist the temptation to assume the worst.
14. Ask for help if you need it. People will step up, because you stepped up first.
15. Adopt if you want a pet. Your home is better than the shelter.
16. You can never live up to your fantasies. That's why they're fantasies.
17. Treat yourself.
18. See your doctor and dentist regularly.
19. Be polite.
20. Be open-minded. Everyone is different.
21. Eat lots of fruits and vegetables, and drink lots of water.
22. Lie only when necessary.
23. Explore the internet.
24. Avoid toxic people. You know who they are -- just thinking about them stresses you out.
25. Be silly! Dance in your living room! Sing in your car!
26. Only buy lottery tickets if the pot is over $100 million.
27. Travel.
28. Yoga is boring.
29. Aim for resolution, not escalation, e.g. when someone's being a jerk, be pleasant. Governments of the world, take note! I'm looking at you, China! Have you seen a map? Those islands are ours!

In other news, I think I've started getting better at drawing comics. Hurray!

Seek and I Shall Whine

Looking for comics? Go here!

Alas, the spirit did not move me to blog this week because...I wrote a short story! Insert sparkles here. Or I should say, I wrote another short story, but that first attempt was so weird that I am confident it will explode as soon as an editor lays eyes on it.

Anyway, I sent my manuscript to Boyfriend, who, full disclosure, is ferociously intelligent and not at all shy about ripping anything idiotic to shreds. Will I have the graciousness to accept constructive criticism? Stay tuned!

The best part about finishing the story was doing a Google search for literary agents, and coming up with the true, magnificent events of 2005, when a group of sci-fi writers created the worst book ever, called Atlanta Nights, under the pen name Travis Tea (say it fast). They were out to get a deceitful publisher, PublishAmerica, which purported to be a real publisher but actually did POD (publish-on-demand, meaning their writers' works didn't make it to bookstore shelves). Read about it here.

An excerpt from their fake opus: Mmm-hmm. Come and get this big Afros and indescribably tender. His hands moved surely.  Recover for a mess.  She'd have noticed if it had so impetuously across the pelting Georgia Girl Grill. This came from a chapter generated entirely by computer. Nice.

The result: PublishAmerica sent an acceptance letter for the horrendous manuscript, proving that they didn't even bother to read the stinker! Hoist by their own petard! By the way, their website made my good taste cry. Yes, they're still in business!

Dear readers, I got my grubby paws on a full copy of Atlanta Nights, and ohmyLord, I had to stop reading because I was getting eye strain from the awfulness. But I shall slog through it, because I have the sinking feeling that my own work will mirror a lot of the deliberately horrible writing in here. The best potholes are the ones you can see because you chucked in some flares beforehand, amirite?

And so, in conclusion: happy Friday!

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I Love It Like Cake

You know that voyeuristic thrill of hearing about other people's outrageous/hilarious/horrifying stories? I have discovered the mother lode: Dear Prudence on slate.com. "Prudie" (real name Emily Yoffe) lends a sympathetic hand to genuinely distressing situations, like when someone asks for advice about difficult friends or relatives, and lambasts morons, like a man who complained that he married a hot but dumb woman, or the girl who wrote that she was mortified because her boyfriend heard her fart. Like, omg, I would totes skip town if that happened to me, omg.

Speaking of skipping town, here is The Real Story of Asian University for Women, Kamal Ahmad and Ashok Keshari, written by a former faculty member for the university in Bangladesh. I worked for the Support Foundation that she mentions in the post. I know I promised to write my side of the story, but kept getting sidetracked by pubescent humor and comics.

Happy Friday!

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Update, 03/05/2012: Prof Amber's blog post no longer exists. But here's How I Turned My Life Upside Down  to Move to Bangladesh and Became Embroiled in an International Fiasco.