1585: Taxing Polls

Did you vote today? I did, and so did Andie. I don't actually really care all that much whether or not you did — I'm guessing you didn't if you're reading this from outside the UK — but it seems to be "the done thing" to ask today.

For those reading from outside the UK, it was a combination of local elections and European elections today. I don't follow politics with any great interest, so I'm not really 100% sure what both of these elections will decide in the long term, but I do know that a significant proportion of people on the Internet were absolutely adamant that we must not vote for UKIP.

UKIP, for the uninitiated, are a party led by a sour-faced trout called Nigel Farage who are strongly in favour of, among other things, the UK's independence from the rest of Europe. They've also garnered something of a reputation in recent weeks in particular for being possibly a little bit racist, maybe. Not quite as flagrantly, unashamedly racist as the British National Party (BNP), mind, but still enough to give people pause, especially if they are a member of an ethnic minority group or an immigrant themselves.

Before we go any further, I'll note up front that I didn't vote UKIP. I disagree with what I know of their policies, I don't like racist attitudes and I think Nigel Farage is a twat. This site also suggested that I fundamentally disagreed with UKIP on all but three of the thirty different policies and opinions it tested, and had the greatest affinity with the Green Party, most closely followed by the Lib Dems, then after a bit of a gap, Labour and the Conservatives. I didn't have any particularly strong feelings before taking the test, so I voted Green today. They're one of those parties that are pretty unlikely to ever have any real power, but the way democracy is supposed to work is through you voting for the party that most closely aligns with your beliefs, right?

Anyway. Now I've said that, I feel I can say that the run-up to this election has been absolutely insufferable largely due to the number of smug people pointing out with great delight how they're not going to be voting for UKIP. I saw the same "hilarious" Twitter messages that "Farage hates" being retweeted time and time again; the same Stewart Lee speech shared over and over again; the same people congratulating one another on how awesomely politically switched-on they were.

Trouble is, the stated (or implied) intent in what these people were doing — to convince other people that voting UKIP would be a bad idea — was somewhat flawed. When it comes to political views, people are pretty ill-informed (I'm a fine example) and yet pretty stubborn when it comes to which party they choose to attach themselves to. (I am less of a fine example of this latter aspect.) This means that when you proudly declare how awful UKIP are and how you wouldn't possibly vote for them ever, and how nobody else should vote for them ever, you're not changing anyone's mind. If anything, all you're doing is reinforcing your own beliefs — and those of people you know already agree with you — and causing those people who do claim to support UKIP to dig their heels in and be more determined to vote for this party you detest and despise. Meanwhile, you end up irritating the fuck out of the people who don't feel particularly strongly one way or the other and who wish the Internet would go back to arguing about whether 1080p and 60 frames per second really matters.

I suppose I can't really fault people for at least appearing to stand up for what they believe in — particularly in these increasingly apathetic times. I simply don't feel that the way people have chosen to express themselves in this instance — as with so many topics that people get passionate about on the Internet — has been particularly helpful or productive.

I guess we'll find out when we hear the results of the elections, won't we?

1584: Seriously, Hire Movers

I am writing this from my new bed in my new house. Downstairs is a partially unpacked living room, a not-at-all unpacked study and a mostly done kitchen. I am pleasantly, satisfyingly tired, and not feeling stressed out about the house or the things in it. Moving Day has, in short, been a Big Success.

And a significant part of this can be attributed to one thing: the fact we hired a removals company. Not a man with a van, not some friends who offered to help, a professional removals company.

They weren't cheap, mind, though thankfully they weren't one of the companies that wanted to charge us over a thousand pounds to move our stuff less than two miles down the road. (We get the impression that the companies who quoted us particularly stupid prices simply didn't want to do the job — fair enough, since it involved lugging a shit-ton of stuff down from a second-floor flat, but it would have perhaps been nice if they'd just said that rather than arguably attempting to take advantage of us.)

But no, the company we used — Robinsons, if you're curious — were great. They showed up promptly at the agreed time with a big truck that was more than capable of fitting all our stuff in — I've proven on more than one occasion that I have too much stuff for a Transit van by myself, let alone with Andie's stuff in there too — and then proceeded to lug everything down the stairs for us while we alternated between twiddling our thumbs, making cups of tea for them and playing games on our phones, the only entertainment devices that were still within easy reach.

Then they drove the truck to our new place, unloaded everything and were gone before 4pm. If we'd been doing this ourselves, we'd still be shifting things well into the night, probably taking multiple trips and getting increasingly irritable.

But nope; the additional expense was well worth it for the peace of mind and lack of stress it brought. Tomorrow we can wake up refreshed and tackle the rooms that still need working on. We can buy and fit a dishwasher. And then we can flop down on the sofa — the sofa which wouldn't fit up the stairs to our previous flat and which we consequently haven't had the chance to sit on for a year and a half — to watch some television, safe in the knowledge that holy shit, this house actually belongs to us. Pretty neat, no?

Now it may be a ridiculously lame hour but I'm off to get some sleep. Photos will undoubtedly follow at some point in the near future once the place is a little more presentable!

1583: Imminent New Digs

So, this time tomorrow we should be officially moved in to our new house. We almost certainly won't have everything unpacked by then — though I guess you never know! — but we will be in there. Which will be nice.

This all seems to have rolled around rather quickly and surprisingly smoothly. You hear all sorts of horror stories about people buying houses (particularly their first house) that are full of stupid words like "gazumping" and this has just been… well, pretty straightforward, really, and we haven't had to do nearly as much faffing around as I thought we'd have to. It was pretty much a case of going in to the estate agents, saying "we want to buy this house", answering a few questions and then, a couple of months later, taking possession of our new house.

That's an oversimplification, of course, though not by much; the people we were buying the place from didn't dick around, and even the lawyers didn't seem to spend too much time arguing with one another, though there was a little of that. The process was so smooth and straightforward that the act of handing over a not-insignificant amount of money for the deposit felt no more "serious" than just paying a bill or something. And now here we are; one sleep away from moving in.

While I was working last week, Andie and her mother spent a lot of time doing the new place up — painting, hanging curtains, cleaning, that sort of thing. I helped with a bit of the painting, but I stayed out of the way for most of it largely because I was busy, but also because I don't trust myself an inch with DIY. As a homeowner I'm supposed to start caring about this stuff now, I think, but I've never been particularly fussy about what colour my walls are or if they match the ceiling; generally speaking, so long as I have walls around me and a roof that doesn't leak above me, I'm fine. (Oh, and it should preferably be a comfortable temperature, too; warm when it's cold outside, cool when it's hot outside.)

I'm interested to see what it will look like with our stuff in it. It's been a little hard to picture so far, but I'm sure it's going to look good. I'm looking forward to having my own downstairs study for working — though with my current employment situation, it remains to be seen how much use it will be getting on a professional basis — and having an actual spare bedroom. We have a brand new bed, too, which I'm hoping is going to be significantly more comfortable than our current one.

There are still acquisitions to make before it will feel "finished" — though I'm aware once you own a house it's never truly "finished". We need a big-ass dining table for our extension out the back — big enough to fit sprawling board games, specifically — and we're getting a dishwasher and tumble dryer, too. The dishwasher in particular is something I'm looking forward to; there are few chores I hate more than washing up. I'm not sure why, but my mind has always somehow equated dirty plates with being utterly disgusting — even if you've only just finished eating off them — and thus sticking my hands into a bowl of water with them has never been especially appealing. If you can get a magic box to wash them for you, then great; having our own place gives us the freedom to do just that which you just don't get in most rental properties.

Oh, and we're probably going to get a dog, too. We both quite wanted a cat, but we feel that would probably be foolish while we still have the rats Clover and Socks. Neither of them are big fans of coming out of the cage — except to climb up it and get into their Lego house that we usually put on top of it — so it probably wouldn't be a problem, but I still feel it's probably best not to risk having them in the house with an animal that might want to eat them. A dog, I feel, is less likely to want to munch on them — plus it's a good excuse to go out and about and get some exercise by giving it walks every day.

Anyway, this is all hypothetical for now, but it's not long until it becomes reality. Pretty exciting — though to be perfectly honest I'm looking forward to the "exciting" bit being over and just being able to get down to some serious and much-needed relaxation.

1582: My Phone's Not Called "Mate"

So, an update on how I'm doing with my new phone after several days of fiddling around with it. (Said new phone, if you missed my post from the other day, is an HTC One M8 — my first Android phone, though not my first Android device.)

I'm really liking it! Like, way more than I thought I would. There are flaws, certainly — the phone has frozen and rebooted itself while I was in the middle of doing something rather more times than I would have preferred it to in the last few days — but on the whole, it's been a great experience so far and I dare say that I am actually starting to prefer it to iOS.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to suddenly become an Android fanboy, largely because I find Android fanboys to be some of the most insufferable fanboys on the entire Internet. Nor do I feel that iOS is now "bad" because of the time I've spent with Android. But there are clear and discrete markets for both, and they both do their own thing extremely well.

iOS, like most of Apple's other products these days, is designed to be accessible, simple and straightforward. I hesitate to say "designed for stupid people" but it's certainly designed in such a manner that stupid people can't break it easily. It doesn't blind you with unnecessary information — if there's something it can do quietly in the background without telling you what's going on, it will. This is great for people who panic when they see technical messages they don't understand; however, on the flip side, it's less than ideal for computer-literate people who like to know what their device is up to — and if it's up to something it shouldn't be (or not up to something it should be).

There are two features on iOS where this is painfully apparent, and as I count myself in the more "computer literate" camp they'd been becoming increasingly frustrating to me.

First up is Photo Stream, a feature whereby you take a photo with the phone's camera and it gets automatically backed up to your iCloud account and synced to any other devices you've also logged into iCloud with. This is, in theory at least, extremely useful for backing up images and just for transferring them from one device to another — from phone to computer, say — without having to faff around with long-winded sync processes or additional hardware. And, a good 90% of the time, it was great. The trouble was, for that remaining 10% of the time it would just not work, and it certainly wasn't going to tell you why. I eventually managed to figure out that if Photo Stream wasn't syncing it was generally for one of two reasons (the battery being below 20% or you not being connected to Wi-Fi) but the phone certainly didn't tell me that.

iTunes Match, the service that allows you "cloud" access to your full iTunes music library from any device, is the same way. A few weeks back, my iPhone simply started refusing to download certain iTunes tracks to itself, which made loading it up with tunes to take on a long trip to be troublesome at best, completely impossible at worst. Again, there was no means of getting feedback on what was going wrong and why some tracks would download but others wouldn't; it simply wouldn't do it. Infuriating. But I can sort of understand why Apple chose not to put frightening error messages in there — so as not to scare off the casual, less computer-literate people.

Android's big selling point is its customisability, and to be fair I haven't explored that a great deal with my new device just yet — I've been largely happy with the stock options so far. It comes preloaded with a standard app launcher and a special "car mode" with big buttons and quick access to music, navigation and other useful features you might need while driving, but I know the option is there for further customisation. I also like how you can have things installed on the device but not visible on the home screen.

What I've really liked so far is the notifications system. I can clear all my notifications with a simple tap on a button, or I can also take action on a lot of them right from the notifications feed — reply to a tweet, archive an email, all manner of other things. It took a little adjusting to the fact that the phone doesn't display messages on the home screen like the iPhone does, but having used it for a few days now, it's actually quite nice to have the peace and be able to review notifications at your leisure rather than when your phone thinks you should.

Plus there's the sound. I'm not normally a fan of playing music out of a mobile phone, but the M8 has some surprisingly competent speakers. They're never going to rival a proper setup, of course, but they're loud, reasonably beefy considering their size, and they make listening to music or podcasts without headphones while doing other things — housework, for example, or, more relevantly to now, packing — eminently practical. Combine with Google Music's much better, more stable implementation of "cloud music" than iTunes Match offers along with the ability to put an extra SD card in there for storage and you have a device that is a kick-ass media player as well as a solid communication device, too.

So I'm liking it a lot so far, and I'm certainly not missing my iPhone, which I gave to O2 for recycling in exchange for a little over a hundred quid — not to be sniffed at for minimum effort. Whether or not I'll stick with Android in the long term remains to be seen, but frankly it's looking quite positive right now.

1581: Two Days

I'm tired, hot and stressed out. We're moving on Wednesday, which means we have two more days to pack up all our stuff and be ready. I'm sure we'll manage it, but right now my own feelings of exhaustion — brought on at least partly by the incredibly hot, humid weather we've had today — are making that "motivation" thing somewhat troublesome.

I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks. I hope it's not as bad as it looks. There is still a lot of stuff to pack into boxes, but at least we had a pretty ruthless clearout of books today, meaning there are a lot fewer of those to move than there once were. It was a little odd to throw out a number of books that have followed me around from house to house since before I went to university, but there's really no point in carrying a lot of them around any more. All the fiction books I own that I'm going to read I have already read, and if I want a new book I'm more inclined to buy a digital book to read on the go rather than a physical one these days. (A curious inversion of my attitude to video games, where I prefer to have a physical disc.) The reference books I own are outdated and have been made largely obsolete by the Internet anyway. And I've resigned myself to the fact that I am never, ever going to read The Lord of the Rings. And so off for recycling they all go.

The last time I was so ruthless with my possessions was a few years back when I ditched the large cardboard outer boxes for the older PC games I still own. There are occasional times when I regret doing that, but my available shelf space thanks me. To be perfectly honest, I could probably stand to throw out some of those old PC games, too, given that a significant proportion of them almost certainly won't run on a modern Windows 7 machine, but I can't quite bring myself to throw some of them out. At least I haven't been able to to date; perhaps I'll have a closer look at what's there tomorrow and actually chuck out the games that won't work on a modern system and which have modernised digital equivalents available from somewhere like GOG.com or Steam.

It's easy to get attached to possessions and fall into a habit of hoarding. I've done that to a certain degree over the years, but in a lot of cases the things that I've kept are conversation pieces. Someone sees I have an original copy of Wing Commander III on my shelf and it's all "oh, cool! I remember that!" That's also one of the big reasons I keep a big physical collection of console games from the PS1 era onwards — they look cool, they sometimes spark conversations and, frankly, I just like it. (One day I might return to collecting cartridges for older systems, but to be honest I'm much more inclined to return to a PS1 game than an N64 game. Sorry, Nintendo fans.)

Anyway, as the rambling nature of this post will attest, I am far too tired to be able to do anything particularly productive for the rest of this evening, so I think it's time for me to get into bed. Tomorrow I am getting a haircut — it may sound ridiculous, but I'm convinced part of my tiredness at the moment is coming from the mane I'm currently sporting making my head far too hot — and then coming back to do some packing, packing, packing. Then it's my final Japanese class for the academic year in the evening, and then probably some more packing, packing, packing.

I'm really looking forward to being in the new house. I just wish all the other stuff wasn't between me and being able to snuggle down in our lovely brand-new bed.

1580: No, Not the Boxes

Well, we're nearly there. We own a house, Andie has spent most of this week redecorating it (and done a great job) while I've been working, and we have the movers booked for Wednesday.

All that remains to do is to pack everything u–

Shit.

I really, really hate packing to move house. I also hate unpacking at the other end, but that's marginally better because you get to find new homes for things and figure out aesthetically pleasing arrangements for things like video games and board games and other stuff you might want to display.

But before you can do that, you have to put everything into boxes. And inevitably you don't have quite enough boxes, or you can't quite fit everything in one "category" neatly into one box, meaning you end up dumping things in semi-randomly as you get more and more tired and annoyed at the whole hideous process, until eventually you simply resort to grabbing handfuls of possibly related things, throwing them into a box in a disorganised heap, then taping the box up, writing "STUFF" or "MISC" on it and ensuring it's the very, very last thing you unpack. (In the process, you'll almost certainly realise that something you really, really need is in there, but you just won't be able to face digging through the mountains of crap that are almost certainly piled on top of it.)

In other words, yes, I am really not looking forward to packing everything up. I'm thinking I might take the opportunity to ditch some stuff — primarily books that are likely never going to be read again and clothes that haven't been worn for years in some cases — and minimise the packing of unnecessary crap. I know it's still going to be a massive pain, but at least we don't have to actually pick up and carry stuff ourselves this time. I hate that even more than putting things in boxes, particularly as the weather seems to have suddenly got hot and humid lately, so I'm more than happy to pay people money to carry heavy things for me.

Mostly I just want the tedious side of moving to be over and done with and this (our old) place to be clean so I can settle down, relax a bit and look forward to — hopefully — a significant number of years in the same place. Outside of living back with my parents, I've never stayed in the same place for longer than about two years, tops, and the prospect of getting to stay somewhere for a significant amount of time — a place where I don't have to feel guilty about hammering nails or picture-hooks into the walls — is, frankly, extremely appealing. The fact it's big enough to have guests over — we have a spare bedroom for the first time in my life — is something I'm particularly happy about, and I'm looking forward to actually inviting people over to stay at some point.

So it's nice to look forward to what the eventual goal is. But I'm conscious that we're moving in a few days and there are a lot of things to put into boxes. So I supposed we'd better start soon, huh?

1579: "Android?"

I took a bold step and did something very brave today. I… I…

I switched from iOS to Android.

Okay, "very brave" might be understatement of the century, but despite being curious about Google's mobile OS, I've resisted the temptation to ditch the iPhone series to date, largely because I felt that I was too invested in the iOS ecosystem to make breaking free practical.

I pondered this recently, though, and realised that I actually wasn't all that dependent on the iOS ecosystem at all. I run my mail, contacts and calendars through Google, I socialise through Facebook, Twitter and Google+, I take notes in Evernote and… well, that's about it, to be frank; I'm not an especially adventurous mobile user these days, largely because I feel that 95% of apps released these days are superfluous, pointless crap that no-one needs.

And so it is that I find myself with an HTC One "Don't Call Me Mate" M8 Android handset. It's a rather larger handset than the iPhone 4S I was using before, and it's larger than Andie's iPhone 5S, too. I once thought that large phones were worthy of mockery, but having been using the HTC for a day I'm already feeling the benefit of the larger screen size. It's not a huge amount bigger than an iPhone, but it's a significant enough difference that things don't feel nearly as cramped.

Bringing mail, contacts and calendars across was straightforward and easy because I was using Google. The one thing I was a little concerned about was being able to manage my music — something that I have, to date, relied on iTunes for. It turns out that Google's Google Music service has seemingly been designed for this exact situation, allowing you the ability to upload up to 20,000 tracks directly from your iTunes library to then be available for streaming or caching from anywhere. You can listen to them via the Chrome-based web player, or on your Android phone. There's even an optional Spotify-like subscription service where you can stream music you don't own, so as of today I've cancelled my Spotify Premium account and gone with Google instead.

There are things to adjust with on the new phone. Not having notifications on the lock screen is very odd having had them for several generations of iOS hardware, but this is more than made up for by the fact you can dismiss all notifications at once from the notification centre. I haven't delved particularly into the customisation side of things yet, but I understand with a bit of fiddling and tweaking it's possible to rectify this behaviour if it really bothers me.

There are a few things I really like. The fact that if you download an app and discover it's shit, you can delete it and automatically receive a refund if you do so within 15 minutes of purchasing. The way apps work together, sharing information much more easily than on iOS. The way the on-screen keyboard does a fake "haptic feedback" thing where it vibrates very slightly every time you press a key. The camera on this particular device is supposed to be very good, too, but I haven't really tried it as yet.

So far I'm very happy with the new device so far, particularly as the tariff I've moved to post-upgrade is, for once, actually a better deal than the one I was on previously. I'm paying the same and getting more cellular data allowance plus "4G" speeds where they're available, so the overall experience should be superior. I'm looking forward to exploring what it's capable of further; it's a pleasant and fun change, and wasn't riddled with nearly as many difficulties as I was expecting.

But don't worry. I'm not going to become one of those douchebags who comments on every article about a new iOS app/game and just says "Android?" like a brainwashed parrot. iOS is still great at what it does, and if you claim to be a lover of tech, you should be interested and curious in all the alternatives out there rather than swearing blind corporate allegiance to one company purely because they make the handset you currently own.

But that's probably a discussion for another day. I'm going to go and lie in bed and fiddle with my phone for a bit now. Or possibly just play Nanaca Crash on it.

1576: Angel Beats: Gone Before Your Time

Looking back on recent entries, it occurs to me that I never summed up my final thoughts on the anime Angel Beats!, so let's rectify that right now, shall we?

Angel Beats! was an excellent show, tragically cut short by a not-insignificant degree: about 7 episodes, to be exact. What ended up as a 13-episode show was originally intended to be explored more fully across a larger number of episodes, but it never got the opportunity; there is supporting material in other forms of media, apparently, but the anime itself leaves a significant number of unanswered questions and rushes through its latter half at a disappointingly rapid clip.

Despite this aspect, however, it's still a great show, and shouldn't be passed up on just because it has stuff "missing". On the contrary, it has the feel of a great, unfinished work of art about it, and one can't help but wonder if, on a different worldline, the world was ever graced with a full 20-episode run of Angel Beats!

But enough about what the show doesn't have; what it does have is a whole lot of personality. Like Clannad, which a lot of the same people worked on, Angel Beats! features a combination of light-hearted humour and tearjerking scenes that will put your heart through a wringer. The juxtaposition of the two elements is, I feel, even more considerably pronounced than it was in Clannad; while Clannad had a few silly characters — Fuuko and, at times, Kotomi being probably the most obvious examples from the main cast — Angel Beats! has a lot more in the way of self-consciously silly, slapstick scenes. There's a beautiful sequence in one episode, for example, that sees the main cast attempting to create a distraction in class — a distraction that is achieved by, of all things, several cast members' chairs being equipped with small rocket engines that send them blasting off into the ceiling. The sheer unexpectedness of this sequence coupled with its deliberately melodramatic presentation — when they're blasting off, they do so in slow motion, accompanied by the heartfelt, tearjerking main ending theme to the series — makes it genuinely hilarious.

But then, often within the same episode where something ridiculous happened, there'll be at least one moment that will have all but the strongest souls in tears. These moments normally revolve around the series' central concept of the afterlife's inhabitants being "obliterated" and reborn as soon as they find true peace; rather than presenting a character's obliteration as the dramatic, over-the-top moment suggested by the word "obliterate", some excellent direction tends to mean that they just disappear — they're there in one frame, then the moment the camera angle changes, they're gone. Simple, beautiful — and often heartbreaking.

I know that some people aren't a big fan of how the whole series ends and while I agree to a certain extent — the last few episodes are very rushed, and the show both introduces and shows an antagonist the door with alarming rapidity — I found the actual finale to be a wonderful way to wrap up the whole series. Despite the obviously missing content — most notably, a number of main cast members lacking backstories — there was a satisfying sense of closure to the final scenes, and I was both impressed and surprised to note that the show didn't exactly end up in the place where I thought it was going to go when I first started watching.

And that's a real strength of the show as a whole. Most things about it start out as a mystery, and you're given a gradual drip-feed of information as the series progresses. By the end, you feel like you have a good understanding of at least the cast members positioned as the "main" characters; it's a shame that distinctive secondary characters such as TK (a blonde guy who speaks entirely in Engrish bastardisations of American clichés) remain completely unexplored, however.

I'd love to see a "director's cut" one day that features the "missing" episodes. I'm not sure it'll ever happen, even with the show's good reception and popularity, but it's certainly a nice possibility.

1574: Oh, to Click One's Fingers

In case you missed the news, Andie and I now own a house. This is exciting and etc. etc. but it's also a big ol' pain.

To give credit where credit is due, Andie has been working a whole lot harder on the house than I have been. This is at least partly because I am woefully incompetent at DIY and will normally end up hammering a nail into myself rather than a wall… and that's when I'm supposed to be painting it. Oh ho ho ho.

No, but seriously, I suck balls at DIY. I wouldn't want to put anything on a shelf that I put up, I'm afraid of climbing ladders beyond the second step, I don't know how most tools work and I'm the sort of person that will stand in the paint tray, flip it over so it splatters all over the carpet, then fall on my arse, bringing the curtain rails down with it and smashing the TV in the process.

I hasten to add: thankfully, none of that has happened, and I successfully managed to apply a coat of paint to our new living room earlier without anyone dying. It is quite satisfying to know that I am at least capable of this.

Where the frustration comes from, though — and this isn't by any means exclusive to residences — is when you walk in the front door and it doesn't look like a habitable place to live. (Because it isn't, usually.) The only things lying around are paint pots and various tools, the fridge is empty, there's rubbish everywhere and regardless of where you try to get to in the property, you'll trip over something. It's demoralising to see, and it's something that doesn't really go away until you stop dicking around with paint and start putting furniture in there. Only then does it start to feel like a home; a process that really comes to a head once you get your TV installed. I sometimes just wish I could click my fingers and it all be done.

Things are going quite well, though. The painting is proceeding apace — since Andie has this week off work, she'll undoubtedly be doing some more of that without me over the course of the week — and I'm starting to get a mental picture of what goes where. Of course, there still comes the part I'm really not looking forward to — packing up all the shit in the flat I'm writing this in and transferring it to our new house — but at least this time around we're hiring professional removal people to do all the really hard work. We just have to stick it all in boxes.

I am excited about having a place to call our own, I really am; the trouble is that with the bad news I had regarding my job recently, it's taken the edge off the excitement somewhat. It's hard to be super-excited and positive about it all when you're not sure where your next paycheque is going to be coming from after June.

But I have to remember that I have a few irons in the fire and it's possible that any of them could come to something. The next few months may not end up being particularly easy, but they're probably going to be interesting, if nothing else.

Oh, and did I mention how much I appreciate the hard work Andie's putting in to the new house while I mope around being miserable? I do. A lot. And now the Internet knows it. So there. <3

1571: Fork in the Road

I'm at one of those points in my life where I feel I've reached a definite "fork in the road" where I need to decide if I'm going to continue on my current path, or branch off in a different direction. Going backwards is not an option, but both paths ahead are fraught with trials and difficulties.

The road to the left is a continuation of the road I've been taking. It's the road that proceeds merrily through the land of Gamindustri, looping and wending its way past anthropomorphised hillocks and clouds before taking occasional detours into explosive-devastated warzones, alien landscapes and racetracks. It's a fun road, but you never know what's coming next; over the next hill could be a pot of gold, or there could be a pit of spikes.

The road on the right I don't know much about. Not long after the fork there's a tunnel, and the lights inside seem to have failed. It's difficult to tell how far the tunnel goes, too; there's no way of seeing the light at the other end of it. But there are people coming and going, and they look if not actually happy then certainly at least vaguely satisfied with what is going on. None of them look as if they're afraid about what's happening either now or in the future, and it's then that I notice that posted along the side of the road are a number of uniformed officers. They're not armed and they carry kindly expressions on their face; I get the impression they're there to keep everyone safe and protect them from the unknown. There is no such detail on the road to the left.

All of this is a rather pretentious way of saying that I think I'm going to have to make a decision soon: whether to continue pursuing life in the games industry, or whether to try and branch off in another direction. As I alluded to above, both roads carry their own fair share of potential pitfalls.

Were I to take the left road, it's doing so on the understanding that I can't relax. Even if I work my hardest, there's no guarantee that I won't simply wake up one day to discover an email politely informing me that I will soon be out of a job through no fault of my own. And when that happens, there's no guarantee of being able to immediately score a new job; more often than not, it means a return to either begging for scraps as a freelancer or, were the unlikely to happen and I find myself with a new position straight away, having to work my way back up from the bottom, effectively starting my career over again. This has happened to me a couple of times now and it is already starting to get a bit old.

Were I to take the right road, I have to deal with the true unknown, and there's no guarantee I'll be able to find my way to safety and security. My particular combination of qualifications and experience opens up a relatively narrow number of potential career paths to me, and looking at job site listings it can be challenging to determine exactly what type of job I should be looking for, or if it's even worth applying to things that sound like they might fit the bill. There's also the feeling that I'm walking away from something that, when it goes well, I do genuinely enjoy doing.

I love writing about games. But I hate — hate — how volatile the games journalism business is. I understand the reasons for it — and it's a risk we all acknowledge when we enter into it — but that doesn't make it suck any less when promising careers are cut short for reasons that aren't any fault of the people in question.

Which is why, to be perfectly frank, I'm leaning towards the right road. I've already put in some applications to jobs that are nothing to do with games, with the intention of, if I successfully secure a position, continuing doing games writing purely for myself and those who wish to follow me through projects such as MoeGamer. Given that Andie and I have recently purchased a house — we get the keys tomorrow, in fact — I am getting to the stage where financial security and not having to continually worry on a week-by-week basis about whether I still have a job is worth far more than being able to say that my hobbies and passions are also my career.

That's a sad and disappointing way of looking at the world, and I'm annoyed that I'm even thinking that way. But unless there's a significant change in the way the games journalism business works, I'm not sure I can take going through this whole process again.