#oneaday Day 146: Spooky scary brownies

It’s Halloween! I used to really enjoy Halloween, but as you get older it becomes more and more of a wet fart of a celebration, unless you have kids. For the last few years, we haven’t even had any Trick or Treaters visit — though we did have a couple tonight. For my sins, I spent the evening editing a 75 minute video about Atari games rather than actually playing the horror game I am in the middle of (Spirit Hunter NG) but such is the way of hyperfixating. I could have stopped partway through the project, but my brain kept saying “go on, you’re nearly done”, and before I knew it, I was done. I wish I could find that sort of motivation for anything that actually mattered.

Anyway, Halloween. I have a few fond memories from various years. The earliest one I can recall was from when we were in America. I talked a little about this trip to America when I revealed my longstanding (and mostly overcome) fear of the wimdotch wib hamdongs, but there were lots of other things that happened on that trip. One of them was spending Halloween with someone my parents knew. I can’t remember who the people were, what their names were or even if they were actually American or just British folks who had ended up living out there, but one thing I do remember is the lady of the house baking brownies.

I had never had brownies before this Halloween visit to this mystery family, and my introduction to them was with the most amazing home-made brownies I have ever tasted in my life. I have spent the intervening 35+ years trying various types of brownie from all manner of sources, and not one has ever matched the brownies I had that one October night in 1985. And I don’t know why. Surely a brownie is a brownie? All I remember that might be a distinguishing factor is that these home-made brownies had walnuts in, and as a fussy kid I didn’t think I liked walnuts. (I still don’t.) But baked into those brownies they were wonderful.

So yeah. I hope before I die I can have at least one brownie that is even half as good as the brownies I had that night. I will continue to feel unfulfilled until that happens.

Another completely unrelated memory is from a Halloween night at university. Scary Movie had just come out, and Scream was still fashionable, so, being a shy sort, I figured dressing up as the Scream killer would be a great Halloween costume. And it was! The really interesting thing I found was that by completely hiding my entire appearance, I suddenly had way more self-confidence than I had ever felt in my life. I was laughing and joking with complete strangers, doing the “WAZAAAPP” thing from Scary Movie, and I was having a thoroughly lovely time.

I can’t remember anything else about the evening other than the walk into Portswood, Southampton dressed as the Scream killer — I suspect once I arrived at my destination I proceeded to get absolutely twatted off my face on cheap cocktails — but that feeling of being nigh-invincible on the walk to the venue is something that has stuck with me ever since… and is a feeling I’d love to recapture at some point, somehow.

Anyway, my Halloween has been mostly uneventful, as you can probably tell, but it’s now ten past midnight, my video has finished rendering and I still have to work tomorrow. So I should probably go to bed, huh.

Sweet screams or whatever.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

2031: Delayed Contact

How would you get along with your sibling(s), parent(s), or any other person you’ve known for a long time — if you only met them for the first time today?

WordPress Daily Post, August 12, 2015

This is an interesting question! What it’s really asking, I guess, is how I’ve changed over the years. And I’m certainly not going to deny that I’ve changed over the years — in some ways for the better, in other ways for the worse.

Let’s consider the “big things” first. The first thing I’d want to address is my depression and anxiety. As anyone who has had a depressed or anxious friend will know, we can be a handful: prone to bouts of irrational emotion, having a tendency to back out of appointments and commitments because we’re not feeling up to dealing with people, in some cases full of seething rage or unbearable grief at nothing in particular, which is difficult for anyone not living it to truly understand.

Now, I address this because I tend to think of my depression and anxiety as a “recent” thing, though on reflection it’s something I’ve clearly been carrying around with me for a lot longer than I might have initially thought. It probably stretches all the way back to primary school, to be honest, when I was, yes, full of seething rage at nothing in particular and would often get into trouble at lunchtimes and breaktimes for the 10 year old equivalent of casting “Provoke” on a dinner lady or school bully.

Actually, to say said seething rage was at nothing in particular isn’t quite accurate. It was something of a vicious cycle. I wasn’t comfortable in who I was, and kids being kids would pick on me, sensing weakness. I’d then be upset — particularly when, as often happened, my friends abandoned me and sided with the “cool” kids (who were often also the bullies of the playground) rather than with me.

But this isn’t specifically about my history with depression, it’s about whether people I’ve known for a long time would get along with me — or if I’d get along with them — if we happened to meet for the first time today. And the depression and anxiety side of things is interesting to consider; these days, I’m a lot more open and honest about talking about it in most circumstances — sometimes needing a bit of a prompt or leading question — whereas in my childhood and adolescence, when, in retrospect, I was clearly suffering from both of these issues, I didn’t recognise them for what they were and consequently didn’t know how to deal with them. My first girlfriend even left me because she “couldn’t take my moods” — though she did also cheat on me at the school prom, so fuck her, basically.

I digress, but the point, I guess, is that anyone I met for the first time now would have to be able to deal with someone who is aware of their own mental defects, be willing to support them when necessary and be willing to leave them the fuck alone when they need to be alone.

Now, onto other matters also worthy of consideration. Let’s keep things self-deprecating and consider my personal appearance. At school I was fairly unremarkable-looking, though I had terrible hair (still do), bad skin (still do) and zits (thankfully long gone). I felt like I was a bit fat at school compared to some of my friends, but looking back at some old photographs, I really, really wasn’t. I steadily gained weight over the course of my time at university and beyond until I got to the point where I was so uncomfortable I needed to do something about it — hence my joining Slimming World back in February. (As of tonight, I’ve lost 4.5 stone in total, incidentally.)

Let’s be realistic: people judge each other on appearances, like it or not, and six months ago I was absolutely ashamed of my appearance. I didn’t like going out because people would see me; I didn’t like walking past windows because I could catch a glimpse of myself; I didn’t like wearing any of my clothes because none of them really fit properly any more; and mirrors, well, no. Just no. I’ve always had something of a lack of self-confidence — again, this can be traced in part back to my school days; at primary school I was taunted on a daily basis for having “big ears”, while at secondary school the aforementioned crap hair, bad skin and zits were picked on — but this was the absolute lowest point I’ve ever been.

Today, though, some 4.5 stone lighter, I know I still have some way to go, but I’m much more comfortable in myself and, when depression and anxiety aren’t laying me low, I can actually notice myself being more open, confident and less embarrassed to be myself. Just yesterday I successfully made some small talk with the store clerk in Game when I was buying Splatoon and didn’t come away from the experience thinking “they hate me” or “they think I’m disgusting”, which are things I’d thought following a passing interaction in the past. And while this may not sound like much, with everything I deal with in my head, this felt like a noticeable and significant victory, and worth celebrating.

I’m conscious I’m talking generally while the question implies I should be thinking about specific people, but I feel these points are relevant; self-confidence is something that is important in your interactions with anyone, and while I’m certainly not in a position where I’d call myself “confident” or “outgoing” — I’m still an introvert at heart — I am in a position now where yes, I feel like I could meet someone new, have a conversation with them and not make them never want to see me ever again.

Finally, then, there’s the matter of changing interests. My interests actually haven’t changed all that significantly over the years; I’ve always been into video games, board games, computers, music, reading and writing. Perhaps the biggest change is in the “subgenres” of certain aspects, specifically my enjoyment of Japanese games, anime and other popular media. As many of you will know, a lot of this sort of thing is enormously polarising and very much an acquired taste, so if there’s anywhere I think I’d struggle with if I were meeting an old friend for the first time today, it’d be with regard to these niche interests, and particularly a lot of the mainstream popular assumptions about what people who like that sort of thing are into. (That’s a rant for another day, of course.)

There are people I’ve drifted away from due to diverging interests. There are also new friends I’ve made as a result of these diverging interests, that happen to converge in different places. That’s how life goes; as much as we’d like to believe certain things last forever, sometimes we move on, we grow, we change, we become different people.

Ultimately I like to believe that I’m a decent person, and that anyone I’ve known for a long time I’d be able to at least get along with today. We became friends for a reason, after all, and in many cases friendships are struck up over that simple, indescribable “click” you get when you start interacting and realise that the person you’re talking to is someone absolutely on your wavelength. It’s difficult (though, sadly, not impossible) to get rid of that “click” once you’ve had it, and so, to finally answer the original question: I do think I’d get along with people I’ve known for a long time if I only met them for the first time today. Our relationship might develop differently to how it did in reality, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing; true friendships allow you to get along regardless of circumstances and regardless of differences.

#oneaday, Day 202: Someone You’re Not

Ever wondered what it’d be like to be someone you’re not? To be able to seamlessly switch yourself from being “you” to being a different persona, depending on the situation?

I’ve been reading The Game by Neil Strauss. For the uninitiated, it’s an incredibly detailed exposé of the world of pickup artists. There are those out there who live by the tenets of this group. And others who believe that Strauss’ story is so much bullshit. But I find the very concept of it interesting, not least for the fact it’s something I don’t think I could do.

The pickup artists (or PUAs, as they call themselves) go into a situation armed with a variety of “openers”, manipulate the conversations using a combination of “negs” (deliberately negative comments), hypnosis, neurolinguistic programming and all manner of other techniques. And, if Strauss is to be believed, many of them enjoy not inconsiderable degrees of success—regardless of the sort of person they “really” are, and regardless of their physical attractiveness.

When I go out, I’m me. I can’t be anyone else. I can’t imagine sidling up to a group of complete strangers at a bar, opening with something like “well, this looks like where the party’s at” and then surreptitiously attempting to manipulate the group and an individual in that group into doing my bidding. I find the concept of it pretty fascinating, though; particularly as I know at least one person who is adept at “playing the game”.

Sometimes I wonder if social situations might be easier if I was able to project a different persona. Those of you who know me know my personality pretty well. But I often feel when I go out into a situation where I’m surrounded by unfamiliar people, or where I’m worried I might make a tit of myself, that I withdraw somewhat. I’ll talk to people if they talk to me, but I often find myself sitting there thinking just that; “I’ll just wait here and if someone wants to talk to me, I’ll let them, but I’m not going to chase down anyone.”

This is social anxiety at work. In some ways, I think that it’s part of me and I’m glad I’m not being a player, hitting on every girl who comes into the bar. But in other ways, I sometimes wish that I could just open up a little bit more and strike up a conversation with a stranger. And by that I mean be the one to initiate the conversation, not wait for someone to come and talk to me or be introduced to me.

I wish that there was an easy way to practice this. But unfortunately, the only way to practice it is to do it. And in nearly thirty years of time on this planet, I still haven’t really got the hang of it.

Chasing Stardust

Caution: Self-indulgence and self-pitying ahead. You have been forewarned.

Ever had the feeling that you’re just chasing something that doesn’t quite exist? Something intangible, that you know you want, but struggle to even describe, let alone put your hands on? And you just know that if you got your hands on it, you’d be that much happier?

I got a new job recently. I’m a primary school teacher – a return to classroom teaching after two years’ break, and a shift from my original profession as secondary school teacher. Now, I like teaching. I’m even good at it. I’ve been told so by many people. But the frustrating thing about teaching – and so many other things – is the other shit you have to put up with at the same time. Behaviour, for example. I lost count of the number of times I had to stop and “give warnings” today simply for kids being stupid, or talking when I’d asked them to listen, or getting up and wandering around the room, or… You get the idea. Kids will be kids, you may say. Well, yes, they will – but it’s frustrating. I remember being a kid and being terrified to step out of line. I was (and still am) a bit of a goody-two-shoes, of course, but you know what? I’d rather be that than a dick.

Then there’s the other stuff. I’m new to primary teaching, so I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed with new things to learn. The year group team that I’ve joined are very supportive, though, which is good – it means I can bug them with questions when I don’t know what something means, or don’t understand a procedure, or, more to the point, haven’t had a procedure explained to me.

Ah, procedures. Close friend of paperwork. Both of them largely pointless in nine situations out of ten. All they have succeeded in doing so far is 1) messing up my desk within five minutes of me taking possession of it 2) overwhelming me with unnecessary paperwork and 3) making me feel inadequate. And I can do without feeling inadequate right now.

Everyone gets the jitters when they start a new job. I’m hoping this feeling of being overwhelmed and unsure of myself passes. I’m still in two minds as to whether I’m doing the right thing. Lots of people have told me that they thought I’d make a good primary school teacher. I agree – at least that I would be good at teaching primary-age children. It’s the other bits that I worry about not being able to hack. I am neither the most assertive person in the world nor the most organised person in the world, so the twin evils of “behaviour management” and paperwork together form a giant super-nemesis for me. It also doesn’t help that previously, having found a job that I genuinely did enjoy, like, even love for a while, it was taken away by an inconsiderate management team who succeeded in destroying my self-confidence by caring more about the bottom line than the welfare of their staff. So a big “fuck you” to them, if you please.

Of course, I have only been working there for three days so far, so it is highly likely that I am being premature in my judgement of myself as borderline-incompetent. That’s that pesky tattered and torn self-confidence talking.

This is the rub though. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do. Actually, that’s not quite accurate. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do that will pay the bills in a reliable manner. There are loads of things that I love doing – things that I’d much rather do than be cooped up in a classroom with thirty kids – but they’re either unpaid or erratic work. Writing, for example. I love writing. I love blogging. I love writing fiction. I love writing about games, and about music. I love writing semi-incoherent rants that people somehow find entertaining while the big vein in my head pops. I love tweeting and commenting on things. I’d love to be able to sit and write all day and be paid for it, but realistically that’s highly unlikely to happen. Of course, a glass-half-empty approach doesn’t get anywhere, but it’s – yes – frustrating. It doesn’t have to stop me enjoying doing it when I have the chance, though – hence this blog, and hence my entry in this year’s NaNoWriMo.

There are so many things I love doing – teaching, music, writing, gaming, podcasting, production, film – so why is it so damn hard to find something to settle on and just enjoy? Why does everything have barriers to entry – and yet more barriers to negotiate once you get inside?

I guess I should be more positive. But I can’t help but think that I’m getting that “I’m nearly 30” feeling and wondering where on Earth I’m going. One day I might find an answer. Until then, I’m just chasing stardust.