#oneaday, Day 218: I Love You, You Twat

Those of you who’ve been following me for a while will know that I have been known to make occasional forays into the virtual world of Second Life. For all its flaws and glaring technical errors and furry porn and flourishing sex industry, I always find it a genuinely fascinating experience from both social and creative angles.

I have one particular friend in that “other” world that I want to talk about today. We both started at around the same time, which means our avatars are both around the four year old mark right now. I’ve been rather more sporadic in my attendance than she has, but ever since we met we’ve shared a very close friendship which is pretty much unlike any of the other relationships I’ve cultivated in that particular world. She’s one of those “constants” that you know you can always rely on. She’s always been there, and has always offered a sympathetic ear when I’ve needed one.

We’ve also always shared a mutual love of insulting the crap out of each other. She admonishes me for my long absences and the fact I can type without mistakes at 85 words per minute. In response, I take great delight in drawing attention to her own typos, which have resulted in us inventing a number of our own words that anyone coming into our group is utterly bewildered by. I’m not even convinced we know what “furple” and “plinge” mean. But from the context, they are generally inclined to sound dirty.

Then we’ll find something to argue about like children. Last night saw a particularly epic “am not, are too” battle that managed to impress everyone around us with our sheer tenacity. One of us will, at some point, accuse the other of being a pervert. The other will, in turn, bring up something from the past which lends incontrovertible evidence that no, they are in fact the pervert here. And so it goes on. For hours at a time, usually.

This is something that has always baffled me about friendship. At what stage do you make that mutual decision that it’s okay to be incredibly rude to one another, especially in front of other people? It’s one of those peculiar contradictions that seems to make perfect sense while you’re engaged in it, yet is utter nonsense when you think about it. The common theory is that it’s a sign you’re so comfortable with one another you’re happy to say absolutely anything to one another, because you know that you do genuinely care about each other. In the case of my friend and I, there’s generally a bit of playing up for the crowd, too—they’ve come to expect it of us. When we’re alone together, we’ll generally talk normally and candidly.

I have a number of “real life” friends who are like this, too, so it’s not just a case of the John Gabriel Internet Fuckwad Theory coming to life. Board game nights generally degenerate into smack talk and aspersions cast on pretty much everything it’s possible to cast aspersions on. And yet somehow without disrupting the gameplay. (Much. Usually.)

I guess it’s one of those social anomalies that we’ll never truly understand. Still, it always keeps things entertaining.

With that in mind, thanks for reading, you complete bellend.

#oneaday, Day 213: Intensity

There’s an old saying, isn’t there, that claims if you lose the use of one of your senses, the others become much more acute. Having never been blinded, deafened or whatever the equivalent words for losing your senses of taste, smell or touch are, I can’t speak for the truth of this. Although I did have a nasty cold one time that stopped me from being able to smell very much, though a good curry sorted that right out, just in time for me to be able to smell the musty flatulence caused by the not-inconsiderable amount of spices therein.

But there is one sphere where pretty much anyone can get a taste of what this is like. The Internet. When you’re talking to someone on the Internet, you might not be able to see or hear them. You’re certainly not touching them, smelling them or tasting them, unless there’s some exciting new Skype-compatible technology you’re all using that I haven’t heard of yet. But regardless, friendships and relationships form, grow, break, explode, spread, all the things that real relationships and friendships do, in fact.

Except for the fact that the lack of “something”—be it sight, sound, smell, touch or taste—makes everything that much more intense. For many people, cultivating a friendship in “real life” is a drawn-out process that takes some time of getting to know each other, getting a feel for one another, understanding what makes each other tick and so on. This process still happens between people who have met online, but at a vastly accelerated rate. The very nature of communication on the Internet means that responses can be considered more carefully and, assuming you’re an honest person, made more honest than you might feel able to be if you’re sitting in front of someone, their piercing eyes gazing into your soul.

Of course, the opposite’s also true. It’s much, much easier to be a bastard and a liar thanks to the wonder of the Internet. And, in many cases, without consequences. Some people find this fun. But the emotion and the hurt it can cause is just as real as the feelings of friendship, affection, even love that can also be felt in these relationships between people who have never seen each other, in some cases.

On the whole, though, the opportunity to meet and talk to people from all over the world is something which should never be taken for granted, whatever form it comes in. Whether it’s posting on a message board, writing an email, using Twitter, checking out someone’s avatar in Second Life, raiding with guildies in WoW; without the Internet, there’s no way that a whole bunch of these people would be in our lives. Old friendships would be lost and forgotten. New friendships might never be made. Soulmates might never find each other. And you wouldn’t be able to read the deranged, 1:30am ramblings of someone such as myself.

Some might say the world would be a better place for that. But, y’know, I kinda like it this way.

#oneaday, Day 203: Things To Do Instead Of Tidying Your House

Your house is a mess! It’s a disgrace. And yet somehow you don’t feel that now is the correct time to do anything about it. There are far more important things to be doing or thinking about. Such as the following:

Going for a walk

You haven’t been outside all day! And it’s, what, lunchtime? You need some Fresh Air. Your mum and dad always told you that Fresh Air was good for you when you were little, so therefore it must still be good for you right now. So why not go outside and get some of that Fresh Air? It’s super-fresh! Mmm! Feel the freshness invigorating your lungs and spirit! Don’t you feel just a little bit more alive, especially now the stale odour of last night’s curry isn’t infiltrating your nostrils? Why not stay out for an hour or two? Go to the park! Sit and stare into space for a while. Fresh Air is good! The more of it you get, the better!

Going shopping

This is an even more fantastic idea! Not only will you get Fresh Air on the journey to the shops, but you’ll also get Stuff once you arrive at the shops! That means once you arrive back home, you’ll have Stuff to find homes for! If you want to go shopping on the pretence of doing something useful for the somewhat medieval state of your hovel, then you could always buy one or more cleaning products while you’re out! Fresh Air and Stuff! Awesome.

Phoning all your friends

You don’t generally like talking on the phone. In fact, you talk on the phone so little that your BT phone bill is perpetually in credit, meaning that they constantly owe you money. So why not use some of that credit and phone those people that you haven’t spoken to or seen for a while? I bet they have lots of awesome news to tell you! And you can joke about how untidy your house is. Plus, you never know, they might actually want to come over. And that will give you an actual reason to tidy your house. Because there’s no point tidying up without a reason now, is there?

Seeing all your friends

Perhaps one of the friends you phoned is having a bad time and wants to rant over a coffee. Perhaps someone who is always busy is having a rare day off and wants to see you. Perhaps you feel like getting some Fresh Air, and conveniently there’s a friend you haven’t seen for ages. So why not get some of that awesome Fresh Air and see your awesome friend? Yeah.

Turning on the television and staring at it

It doesn’t matter what’s on, because you won’t really be watching it. It could be Jeremy Kyle. It could be Ben 10. It could be Last of the Summer Wine. If the last channel you left your TV on was Dave, it’s probably Top Gear. Why not sit yourself down on your couch and enjoy some mindless entertainment? It doesn’t matter if you don’t normally watch the programme in question. It’s on. And you owe it to yourself and to Culture to find out what all the fuss is about.

Making an overelaborate sandwich

Your kitchen is messy, but you’re hungry. What to do? What to do? Make a sandwich! Rummage through your fridge and cupboards for the most disparate luncheon products you can find, slap them all together between two pieces of bread that you don’t think is mouldy, add at least one condiment or sauce, place it on a plate (or, if all your plates are dirty, in a bowl; if all your bowls are dirty, in a frying pan; if all your pans are dirty, in a bit of kitchen roll; if you have no kitchen roll, just pick the damn thing up) and then retire to your couch (where you may optionally turn on the TV and stare at it) and enjoy your creation before realising that your bizarre combination of cooked meats, chilli sauce, some unidentifiable fruits and vegetables you found in the baskets at the bottom of your fridge and mayonnaise doesn’t really go. But you’ve made it now; so you’re damn well going to eat the whole thing if only to be able to tell people about your magnificent creation.

By now it must be bedtime. So go to bed satisfied in the knowledge that you couldn’t have possibly had a nicer day, and of course all the tidying up can wait until tomorrow. When you’ll go through this whole process again.

#oneaday, Day 164: Healing The Mind, And Flying Spiders

Sometimes, whatever else is going on in your mind, it’s good to sit down with a friend and talk things over. Even if you’re not a big “talker” for the most part, there’s bound to be at least someone out there that you can open up to. Some lucky people can open up to pretty much anyone. Though that often leads to the whole “too much information” problem I alluded to some time back, when a former music performance partner decided to announce at the dinner table to my then-housemate whom she had never met before that day that she was suffering from considerable vaginal dryness and was there anything she could do about it as it was a little concerning?

No. Talking with someone you respect and trust is always good. So that’s what a friend (who shall remain nameless to spare her blushes) and I did today. We spent most of the day (well, afternoon) sitting and chatting over various beverages and sandwiches, starting with an enormous caramel latte (which my companion added at least three sugars to just for that “extra kick”, making a smiley face from the sugar and then stabbing it in the eyes because it “didn’t deserve to be happy”) and eventually moving on, having harassed our AV salesman mutual buddy at his place of work, to a large pitcher of delicious, summery, fruity cocktail atop the roof of Vodka Revolution.

We also saw a flying spider. This little dude, whom we christened Harold, had been attempting to crawl up the side of our pitcher in an attempt to get at the cocktaily goodness within, but was failing miserably. By about the fourth or fifth time he’d slipped down the side of the pitcher, he was obviously ready to give up. So imagine our surprise when he floated off the side of the pitcher and then whistled past my head at high speed.

We both blinked and looked at each other.

“That just happened, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“That spider just flew.”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

“I have no idea.”

There’s probably a perfectly rational explanation for it. Harold was only a tiny money spider after all, so it’s entirely possible he was just blown away by a passing breeze. Or perhaps there was a thread leading far away that we couldn’t see. But it’s a much nicer story to think that Harold was the one spider in the world who had learned to fly. I don’t normally like spiders, but I have plenty of time for a tiny little one that has learned to fly.

Anyway.

The day was technically completely non-productive, but after a few days of feeling something of a decline in my mood, it was exactly what I needed. I wouldn’t dream of speaking for my companion, but I certainly hope it helped her too. By the time both of us went our separate ways at the end of the afternoon, both of us had pleasant smiles on our faces; something which neither of us were sporting when we met up with each other around lunchtime.

So if you’re feeling low, take a day out. Call up a friend, perhaps one you haven’t seen for a while. Meet up. Drink coffee, beer, cocktails, whatever. Sit in the sun. Chew the fat. Set the world to rights. And you’ll find that things will feel much better. For a while, at least. And sometimes, that little perk-up is all you need to keep going a little while longer.

So a hearty thanks to my companion for a lovely day.

#oneaday, Day 110: Hic!

It’s nearly 4am and I’m pissed as a fart. This is officially the first #oneaday I’ve done while under the influence of any sort of substance, so I apologise in advance for any typos or nonsense I am about to produce. I have already tweeted a whole load of shit, so if you’re really into the idea of reading drunken bullshit, I suggest you follow me on Twitter.

I went out tonight. I was meeting up with some friends I used to work with and have really been missing recently. Some of them know the details of what has been going on in my personal life recently, others don’t. (Incidentally, if you’re reading this right now and don’t know the details, I’m not quite ready to make it completely public just yet. Give it time.) The best thing about this evening is that my friends know how to have a good time with the minimum of fuss. There were no difficult conversations required, no prerequisites for the fun we were going to have, just an inordinately large amount of alcohol, some frankly fatal-sounding concoctions that I’m almost certain I’m going to regret in a few hours’ time and an awful lot of homoerotic dancing.

I apologise profusely to all my friends for fondling their nipples in a distinctly inappropriate manner, but none of you seemed to mind at the time.

Friends are great. I encourage you all to get some. As in some you can go out and see on a regular basis. I absolutely love my online friends and trust them absolutely, but sometimes there is no substitute for being in the same physical place as other people, letting your hair down and acting like a complete twat. There’s nothing I’d love more than to do the same with all the members of the Squadron of Shame. One day, perhaps. But for now, a huge shout-out to @dollydaydream, @kslice47, @HarmlessSaucer and @lukejhall for an enormously fun night out involving considerable amounts of drinking and watching ChatRoulette on a big screen.

Seriously, guys, what sort of person are you if you’re quite happy to go onto a webcam site and masturbate in front of someone you don’t know? Disturbing, but horribly, horribly compelling.

#oneaday, Day 89: No, It’s Like “Poke-A-Nose”

I played poker for the first time tonight. Specifically, the Texas Hold ‘Em variant that became inexplicably popular a few years back and has shown no signs of going away ever since. I never quite understood why it suddenly shot to prominence, given that it’s surely a game that’s been around for a long time. Anyway, at the time I first noticed a growing national obsession with the game, I put it down to just a fad and never bothered to get involved or learn how to play.

After tonight, I’m wishing I’d started playing sooner! That game is fun. We weren’t playing for big money – a £5 buy-in got us 8,000 chips, and the last man standing would get everyone else’s fivers. But the money didn’t matter. It was the game itself that mattered. I found it pretty amazing how a simple game largely dependent on luck (or card-counting) can have such moments of drama and enormous satisfaction in it. Obliterating opponents with a hand that is just better enough than theirs to screw them over completely is enormously satisfying. Perhaps not for our gracious host, who was one of the first out, quickly relegated to a “kiss of death” advisory role.

I came second in our game. Considering I’d never played before, I thought this was pretty good going. I managed to bluff my way through to some storming victories on a few hands, but was ultimately defeated in the last few hands by a straight vs my two (high) pairs.

I’m not sure if I was just getting lucky, or if I was actually “playing the game” correctly. But there were a number of occasions where the choices I made paid off bigtime for me, in some instances even allowing me to knock another player out. I’d be curious to try again to see if it was just beginners’ luck. I know it certainly wasn’t the others going easy on me. Although perhaps the fact that none of us were particularly experienced helped me out somewhat!

The best thing, though, was to find a game that I was actually good at. I like stuff like Agricola and Power Grid, but as I wrote a short while back, I am generally pretty terrible at them due to something of a deficiency in the strategic parts of my brain. I don’t know what it is. But apparently, it seems, I have a decent poker face. I’m not sure how to take this news. Is it such a good thing to be a good liar?

Well, in the case of a game like poker… of course it is!

You look great in that shirt, by the way.

#oneaday, Day 66: The Time Has Come

I’m going to write this in something of a rush because I need to go to bed. But I’m not going to default on my blogging just for pesky tiredness’ sake! No, it might be a short, crap entry, but dammit if I’m not going to write on right now.

Anyway.

Tomorrow, I fly to Boston for PAX East. It’s strange to think that this time has finally come. When I think back to early in this whole “one a day” experiment and the things I said, wondering whether or not I’d be able to go, wondering whether I’d be able to get out of my job, wondering if I’d ever make it to the States to see my friends whom I only know by their Twitter avatars and occasional glimpses of embarrassing photos on Facebook.

Now, that fantasy is a reality. Well, it will be very soon, anyway.

There are two emotions in my head right now. Immense excitement… and nerves. Almost like stage fright.

Anyone who’s ever met anyone they’ve talked to online for a long period of time will know that the first face-to-face meeting is always the hardest. People are different online to how they are in reality, and however much you can protest that the way you write or chat online is your “true self”, the fact is that people will judge you when they meet you for the first time – subconsciously in most cases, but they’re doing it all the same. It’s that that always unnerves me – whenever I’m meeting new people for the first time, not just trusted and beloved online friends, but anyone. It’s a side-effect of the social anxiety that I’ve suffered for as long as I can remember, but I’m determined not to let it get in the way of an awesome time. And it doesn’t have to. I met my wife face-to-face long after we met online, after all. And yes, I probably was an awkward twat – still am – but that one worked out just fine.

The fact I’ve met some members of the Squadron of Shame before will help – especially given the fact that we got on well the last time we met and didn’t (to my knowledge, anyway) want to tear each others’ throats out with hammers by the end of our time together. I feel like I know a lot of the others very well already thanks to blogs, Twitter, Facebook, podcasts and all manner of other media that makes “Internet gurus” and “online entrepreneurs” drool with glee. So I think it’s going to be just fine.

Doesn’t stop me feeling nervous, but it’s not a sense of crippling anxiety. It’s more a state of wanting the “introductions” phase to be over so we can kick back with some beers and then hit the show floor of PAX East running. Because there’s an asston of stuff to see, and there’s a bundle of people I want to meet. Quite how everything will fit into those few short days I’m in Boston is anyone’s guess – but I’m going to make a damn good try of it.

So tomorrow morning at 8:40, I board a coach bound for DESTINY. That’s right: DESTINY. (Then I catch a plane which will take me the rest of the way to DESTINY. But the coach trip comes first.)

I’m clearly getting delirious. Time for bed, I think. Good night!

One A Day, Day 4: Blurring Realities

I bought a ticket for PAX East yesterday. I don’t know if I’m going yet (the twin barriers of not yet having a plane ticket and not yet having resigned from my shitty job currently standing in the way), but the sheer prospect of going and being able to meet my buddies from the Squadron of Shame – some for the first time, some for the second time – is enormously exciting. The age of the Internet has given us that curious phenomenon of the “friend-not-met” (thanks to Jenn Frank for educating me in the ways of FOAF some time back) where there are people out there whom you feel very close to despite never having seen their face outside blurry Facebook pictures or iPhone uStream feeds while they’re recording a podcast. You know, for example.

But the Squad are just that. I may be a couple of thousand miles away from them, but they’re my bros, my buddies, the legen-wait for it-dary ones, that sort of thing. Which is why the opportunity to potentially meet so many of them in one place at such a massive nerdgasm as PAX will be beyond awesome – even if podcast host Chris‘ revelation that “if someone threw a grenade in there, they’d wipe out the whole Squad” was somewhat chilling. Who would play Pathologic and then podcast about it for three hours then? (Of course, it may be your opinion that the world can do without three-hour long podcasts on the subject of Pathologic, but that’s a discussion for another day.)

It’s pretty awesome that the Internet, as well as being the home of ridiculous chavs like this, can also be the home of genuine friendships and new ways to stay in touch. I know that every time I sit down and listen to the Exploding Barrel Podcast, for example, it’s like I’m hanging out with Mike Minotti of Bitmob (as he now prefers to be known, formerly Tolkoto) and his brother AJ rather than listening to people I don’t have any real connection with. As time has continued on its way and the good word of the Squad has spread further and wider, mostly thanks to Twitter, we’ve picked up more and more people who want to be involved, some from other sites, some from other podcasts, some who are just awesome people.

And that’s pretty cool. That’s, as they say, some Web 2.0 shit right there. And I love it.