Countdown to freedom

Okay, forget it. No more trying to avoid contact only to avoid conflict. No more trying my best to follow every silly rule we have only to ensure I have a bed to come home to. No more eating outdoor just to evade the living room. She's gone out and said it. 

She mentioned in a grumpy tone that whatever problems I had with her burning insence, it was still her room and my opinion shouldn't matter. I thought it wise to explain, briefly, that her burning insence in her room directly influences my ability to even breathe in mine. She replied that if I didn't like it, I could move out to a room that had rules about this. 

I packed a quick bag and got the hell out of there. 

I'm not even starting a war here. I've told her she's poisoning me with her nice scents, and she clearly couldn't care less. I just want out of there as soon as I can. 

The last person she bullied out of there told her he wanted to beat the crap out of her every time he saw her. She lived in fear for two weeks, then he was gone. Let's see if I can beat that record. 

I'm going all out with this. I'm seeing my shrink later today, so first I'll ask her to get me quickened placement in a different home. If this doesn't work, or she says she probably can't, I'm moving on to my college advisor. Tomorrow I'm paying a visit to a studying-with-a-handicap facility, surely they can put some pressure on the housing comittee. And if all else fails, I'll ask my mom to call them. There's no way in hell they'll worm their way out of that one. 

I mean, come on. I've been on the list for nearly three years now. I've been trying to get a proper room for about a year and a half. Give me my bloody room already. 

Think on it,

Erane

Shortlist

What Women HATE Most About Single Guys...

1) Giving Up Your Status In Exchange For Her Attention And Approval
2) Being Needy, Clingy, And Insecure
3) Not Leading - And Even Worse, Trying To Get Her To Lead
4) Using Insecure, Approval-Seeking, Low-Status Posture, Gestures, Voice Tone, And Body Language
5) Not Understanding That She's A Woman And You're A Man
6) Not Being Interesting To Be Around
7) Not Understanding Attraction

Seriously. Why haven't I shortlisted this thing before? It's only the ultimate answer to any zero-attraction problem I've ever had...

Think on it,
Erane

'Date'

It just hit me. I'm going on a date.

The last two weeks or so have gone by in a frenzy of demotivation and overmotivation, skipping school on one end and taking on project after project on the other. Cutting fabric for one dress, getting supplies for another, seaming a skirt, 'shaving' a puppet, knitting babyclothes, you name it, I've done it. I even picked up my old scoobidou skills and continued an old embroidery. Even several books, characters and LARP purchases crossed my mind as serious options to spend my time.

I'm not even sure why I haven't been going to school. Every morning, my phone rings the alarm to kick me out of bed and boot me off to college. And every morning, I snooze until it's too late to bother. The later it gets, the better I can convince myself it's not worth going anymore. I can't do this to myself anymore. I already skipped the entire last period. I can't double back another year. If I don't man up and do this... I may never finish my studies. And if I can't even work the one major that fits me like a second skin, what on earth am I supposed to do? I could never motivate myself to study something... less. And I certainly can't get a job without a diploma. I don't even have a sense of direction without a diploma.

At the very least I have to do the assignments posted online, the ones I need to pass the courses and pad up my grades. I know this perfectly well. I still haven't started on philosophy (or even aqcuired the syllabi) and I still haven't finished the first week's prolog (of which I don't actually know what we're supposed to turn in). I can blame the early hours all I want, but the fact remains that I've seen close to 40 hours of tv-shows in the last three days and spent 0 minutes on my studies.

And now... I'm not even sure that's what I'm worried about. I am... going on a date. I think. No, I'm going on a date. That may not turn out to be one. And clearly I'm chickening out. What's with this whole dating thing, anyway? I thought for sure our country was too sober to even believe in it. Something developes, or it doesn't... isn't that how the romance thing works? Getting to know someone as a purely platonic friend, having him crash over without any repercussions or awkwardness is not quite my idea of something developing.

I mean, for crying out loud. Our most frequent topic of conversation is Pokémon. Of all things! Pokémon! Where I come from, once it's okay to have serious conversations about childhood fandoms, it's because the relationship has already received the kiss of death. The only other guy I ever shared this fandom with is Busboy. He's practically the definition of platonic.

But then, he specifically used the word 'date' when he asked me out (for an as yet unplanned evening, to my knowledge). He might as well have had me in a corner, though. He asked as a sort of 'by the way' while my bus home was pulling up and he was leaving for his. I mentioned how funny and strange the idea was, that I'd never been on a real 'date'. He agreed. We laughed it off. It still felt platonic, and I was in a rush, and I... said sure. Well no, let me rephrase that. I said, "Why not?" I honestly believed I had nothing to lose.

Hm. I just realised today is Valentines. Typical to have a romantic epiphany on the holy day of romance. Anyway.

When later he mentioned a night of movies, fun and awe I had to restrain myself from mocking the comment. It just doesn't feel like anything's changed from the goofy Pokémon athmosphere... but that's not true, is it? If he felt the same way, saw us as just two friends with shared interests, he wouldn't be pursuing this. And if he hadn't specifically mentioned it'd be a date, the thought would never have crossed my mind. On numerous occasions I've explained to my housemate that nothing was there. How did I miss this? Why do I always miss this? I hate being naïve and gullible! Empathy, perception, all of it is worth squat when it comes to what people think of me... How can I -- Oh.

"How can I protect myself if I can't see these things coming?" ... I still see dating as a threat. Shit.

I was worried Four would find his match in Five. I've killed plenty of relationships with a single night on the town. I've killed many more before things escalated to even that. Last time I convinced myself it was just as friends, the night ended with a surprise kiss on the cheek. Of all things? It's only the most confusing thing ever. Last time a guy showed blatant interest in me, I never even responded to the invite.

Suddenly I know exactly where Moshie's coming from. The guy was perfectly interesting and intriguing a year and a half ago, when he turned out to be dating someone else and never even considered me. Now I meet him again single, flirty and halfway drunk, and I've actually gone home without telling anyone because he bored me crazy. The guy thought I was being coy, but liked being teased. The guy thought he was teasing. My normal mode of conversation tends to be more provocative. I was merely too exhausted to bother.

Drifting off.

I know that I have to be open to the whole relationship thing. I know I could never do flings. Well, that's not true. I know I could never fling with guys that can do flings, and that I'd never fling with guys that can't. I guess that means I can't do flings...? Whatever. Flings are not for me, the idea of perfect strangers disgusts me, and the idea of repercussions with people I do know terrifies me. But I really do try to open up. I say yes to things my instinct tells me to run from. Except part of me knows I'll run sooner or later.

I'm not ready. I've never been ready. And I don't know what to do to ready myself. I'm a very open person; I can tell a stranger anything and never think twice about it. I'm posting my innermost thoughts and secrets on the world-wide web on an unprotected website in a universal language. Does it get any better than that? I'm a writer, I know I can tell anything to strangers and I know people can accept any knowledge of strangers, because that's all they're ever going to be.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if any of my friends (other than Moshie, who has a hotlink) found this blog. Occasionally I route them to my vague, artsy blog. On rare occasions one of them gets shown the skeletons in my closet otherwise known as fanfiction. And I regularly tell them tall tales about CM, the Canadian-girl-whose-blog-I-read. If they were ever to read it, to read the comments she gets... This may not be my given name, but it stands out to each and every one of them none the less. They'd all know it were me. And it links straight to this blog.

I do fear it, sometimes. But not even Moshie figured it out. We just exchanged links and that was that. And in a way, she's safe too. She knows enough to understand who's who, but that's about all the involvement she has. For all intents and purposes, however close she is to me... when it comes to sharing my feelings on the people I know, she's just another stranger. Another safety net. I still have a habit of spreading around what rants end up with who. Everything lands with someone who knows just enough to follow the story, but much too little to have any effect.

Which reminds me, I saw Drow online today. I congratulated her on something mentioned in her screenname. As per usual, no response ever came. I'm used to it. I just want to say one thing while no one is listening.

*ahem* ...

)(@$&@#($*&#%_*#)$&@#)%*@_#%&@#)*$&#)@($*@_#*!#)$^@()#*$!_&)_%&%@#)$*($@)#(%&)!@#($*)(E*)@#($&@#*)(%)@#($*_%&#)@($*@#()%#()@&$!_@*(^%)_!&*#%()#&(*!$@^#*#!@^#&* @#*^@#*&$^#*&^()* &@()*$&()@#%*^@#(*)$&@#()*$&@#()*^$!(@*)$&(@#*)&%)(@*&$(*#@^)(*#&$()@#*&$!()*^@!()#*&!()@#*&%#@()*&%()*#^@*()#%&()*@#&%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just needed to say that. I'll just get back to the topic, which is... Ah, right. Dating. Next week. Shock and amazement, or so I've been promised. I'm glad he never mentioned Valentines. I'd probably have bolted on the spot. But then, he's at camp in the middle of nowhere right now (or at least I'm assuming, since the weekend of the camp was used as an argument for 'when') so dating today would've been complicated.

Huh. Now I understand how that rose got into the living room. My housemate's boyfriend came over. Duh!

So next week... or so he imagined. Monday I expect he'll be much more interested in sleeping, wednesday night I have several obligations (not sure if I'll do all... and if not, which I'd skip), thursday night is 'family dinner' at the sorority, and friday's Amicitia... Then saturday, more sleep, and sunday's just ridiculous. So that kind of makes it tuesday or bust, and I might just give him a runaround before then.

For instance, my phone's dead. You know, the only thing standing between me and complete alienation from college? It died. I have no idea where I left the recharger, unless of course I spend half a day chartering to my parents' and back. But that kind of defeats the idea of one here, one there. But then again, idly sitting around isn't exactly going to rechare my phone either. Anyway, so that doesn't work. And with my recent fascination with arts and crafts, who knows when I'll be behind my pc again. Plus, runarounds are easiest through chat. Much easier to divert the conversation or simply forget to answer definitively.

Again with the avoidance! I can see how I'm scared this 'date' will turn the whole friendship stale. I know dinner and a movie isn't exactly my strong suit. Though actually, it wouldn't be the first time I went to dinner with him. We'd planned to crash someone's dinner, but showed up late and ended up in pizza place. The waiter gave me a rose. He got the check and some mints. It was hilarious. We split the bill, and I remember something about admiring a cat walking around inside. The whole experience came nowhere near 'date'.

I can't help but wonder, would it be any different if we changed the label? I've never had a tense moment with this guy in my life. Would he suddenly put on his game face to make everything different? If he changes into some whole other person or starts behaving significantly different, I really think I should get out of there. And if he doesn't, I strongly doubt anything would ever happen. And now I've already convinced myself the whole ordeal is doomed from the start, and I've effectively started a self-fulfilling prophecy. Again.

I try, but I can't just let things happen. I can't turn off my thoughts, feelings, everything, long enough to start a viable relationship. In fact, last time I tried that I ended it because I had done just that. Didn't think, didn't feel, just let it happen, all while I was getting a pop quiz on my thoughts and feelings. Just switching off is not an answer. It ends up a meaningless fling, or worse. I... am the bomb in a game of Risk. I don't engage anyone - I can't engage anyone. But any who approach me suffer the consequences. I'm harmless unless provoked. Inert until roused. Easy-going until seduced.

Well. That might not be entirely true. Even though I use online contacts with men mostly out of the need to rant, period, I tend to get just a little bit possessive over these connections. If the guy doesn't sit there, take it and act pleased I get annoyed. Just today I've promised myself to avoid all contact with one of my rant-palls until he contacts me. A few days of talking to someone who isn't even there can do that to a person, I guess. I just can't help but notice the pattern. I did the same with Four, ages ago, and he never contacts me.

I miss Rose. Even if the movie of death occured, he broke pattern. It was him who couldn't get romantic with me, not the other way around. Eight months to reunion. If he's going.

So yeah, dating. Seeing how most my thoughts go to what'll happen after things go sour, I doubt it'll be a succes. Maybe I really should've gone with awkward rebound brunch instead.

So what's going on in my lovelife? people have the audacity to ask. Well, you know me.

Absolutely nothing. Not if my subconscious has anything to say about it.


Think on it,
Erane

Robot

I am a sucker for robots. Whatever the programming, they often fail to intimidate me, or even impress me, but any robot strikes me as inherently cute. Their inability to see past their own simple logic is simply endearing. They're like little children, trying to make sense of the world; like the strongly autistic, falling back on protocol when they get confused.

Just the thought of Wall-E has me squeeling inside. The most adorable thing I have ever seen is Aibo-soccer. In the film I, Robot old robots fighting new robots made me cry. In a world where robots have gone mad and humans have to hunt them for survival, I'd be that lone scientist empowering the robots to give them a fighting chance. All in all, I am a robot lover.

But that doesn't make me a robot. I don't have a protocol for everything, and if I have one, I tend not even to follow it. I understand things about the world around me I can't even explain to myself, but I pick up on them all the same. My thoughts are organised in text, yes, but it's simply a manifestation of clusters of feelings. I can search for a word that goes with a feeling and know what language the feeling is.

A horse lover is not a horse. A dog lover is not a dog. Call me a robot again, jerk.


Think on it,
Erane

Willful protector

It's taken me years, but I have finally found my name's meaning, rather than the meanings of whatever names it's deducted from. And more so than those names ever reflected me, it fits me. Like a glove.

Willful protector.

It may sound like it's describing Hallore, but really it's me.

It took a while to fully realise, but it turns out I can't even help protecting potential love-interests. Protect them from myself. Especially if I know they like me, but it's not really reciprocated.

A strange thing, looking back. Four's greatest worry was that he'd unintentionally hurt my feelings or pushed me too far, or something along that line. But I suppose my greatest worry was hurting his feelings instead.

I kept him at bay, because I was afraid of using him. I fought with him, trampled on his feelings with him, to make him see how horrible a match we'd be. I encouraged him to see other people, trying to get him to move on. Only now that it's worked, and he found a new girlfriend, do I see the full extent of what I was doing almost instinctively.

Don't let my shaming lack of romantic interest in Four fool you. I did this because I have feelings for him. It just wasn't that kind of feeling. In the end, I really just want him to be happy.

I have hurt a lot of people to save them a greater hurt. And I have hurt myself over and over again when I felt it might save others the trouble. Even now there are grand gestures I want to perform for Blondie, behind her back, and the only thing holding me back is the off-chance she'll find out and be hurt anyway.

And Bubbles. I was ready to throw her friendship down the drain just to try and stop her from hurting herself. It may not seem like much now, but it was a horrible thing to do to myself back then. I don't think I ever allowed myself to get so attached to her ever again.

Even Drow, a woman I hardly know and most certainly don't even like is now subject to a fully armed stalking session, renewed after a few months of silence. She hasn't talked to any of our group in over half a year. She abandoned us. She can rot in hell, for all I give a damn.

But not every member in our group feels the same way. I let her absense get to me, her ignoring, her coldness, because it gets to them. She controls us, even if she won't do it anymore. And sure, I'll be disappointed should she decide to destroy us, like she has the full power to do. But mostly I just want closure, so the others can put it behind them.

I protect. It's what I do.

People who keep 'protecting' others without being asked for help always annoy me. I consider them victims of the Protector-Syndrome. But there's a reason I got to name it. I'm the worst case you've seen in years. The only difference with the PS-sufferers I so despise is that I don't leave it out in the open. I quietly support, I work in the background, and I mostly just sacrifice my own needs to get the job done, rather than repeatedly offer to champion in their stead.

And my greatest worry is that, like normal PS-sufferers, my help just complicates things and makes it worse. I don't know what I'd do if my help was turned away forever.


Think on it,
Erane

P.S.: Maybe I should stop listening to the Fruit's Basket soundtrack. It's making me all sentimental.

Beauty sucks

Just a little P.S. on the last post. Besides hurting and boring the hell out of you, beauty also has a talent for stinking, tasting disgusting and being really expensive. And hardly working, at that.

I mentioned in my first post how dental hygiene is a *** when you hate the taste of mint. As it turns out, tooth whiteners don't come in any other flavour, so I'm stuck with it. Right now, I'm chewing on a revolting piece of 'natural whitening' gum. I haven't had the guts to try the special toothpaste/mouthwash (not sure how it's both, but it claims to be) it came with yet.

Also, waxstrips are a total rip-off. Sure, you get 20 for €10, and technically you can repeatedly use both sides, so it's more like 40 strips. But they feel really gross on your skin when you're applying them, it's almost impossible to rip them off fast enough without outside help, and they don't seem to be doing all that much, either.

And...!

These 40 strips come with an amazing total of 4 after-use treatment towels. Really tiny ones. You're supposed to get all the wax off with it. Sure, the oily stuff feels kind of nice, but they've put it on the worst paper towels EVER. After you've semi-voluntarily ripped out your own body-hair, you get to grain it with sand-paper. Whoop-ti-doo.

The package claims it would work with baby-oil too, which grants the added advantage of me choosing where I put it on. Like a proper washcloth. On the other hand, this also means it's going to cost even more.

I'm starting to suspect this whole 'beauty' thing wasn't invented by the devil at all. It was invented by Dagobert Duck.

*wiki*

His English name is Scrooge McDuck.

... Really? Dagobert left out the 'Mc' part to save ink. But then, Scrooge is shorter than Dagobert. That'll be it, I guess.

So anyway. I'm starting to sink in an evil bottomless money-pit, and I haven't even started on actual cosmetics yet. I've been told I shouldn't ask the sales-people for advice before stating a budget, but I haven't a clue what a decent budget would be. I have the feeling that if I say I'd like everything together for about €5 they're just going to laugh a me, or maybe throw me out.

Or get Scrooge/Dagobert over to yell at me until I pay him €50 just to buzz off.


Think on it,
Erane

Beauty is pain

I know people keep saying this, and my brief encounters with devil-wrought contraptions meant to rip out your bodyhair have confirmed it, but I thought I'd state it again. Taking care of your looks hurts. Above all that (and this is the part no one includes) it's boring as hell.

That's right. Looking pretty takes long, and you don't get quick results. Period. So basically, what you end up with is a painful yawn.

... Rats. Now I'm really yawning. And I hardly even started before boredom prompted me to toss in the towel...

So the thing is, I finally caved in and developed an interest in looks. It's not because I want to look good for the guys. It's not even because I want to look good enough to compete with the girls. It's not even to boost my self-esteem. And it's only partly to please my sister, who seems thrilled whenever she discovers any effort on my part and disappointed when she doesn't find it.

It's because I'm a nerd.

Huh? How could being a nerd make you want to look pretty? It's nerds, for crying out loud! If they want to look pretty, how on earth did they end up looking like that?!

I know, I know. But fate so has it that I'm a plot-nerd. Stories, roleplays, full scale larps, if it has plenty of plot (and in-depth characters are most welcome) then I'm in. Latest addition to my scala of (planned)larp-characters is a lesbian girl with insecurity issues, who will do most anything to ensure that she keeps her lover's interest, even after just over three years. And that includes being eye-candy. This character is also going to be the sole reason that I'll even own make-up at all.

Though I'll probably utilise it for other things after that... I mean, it's a shame to let it go to waste, right?

Basically, this character would just not make sense if she weren't clad in some hot cocktail dress, wearing a pretty watch (will those people hurry up fixing it already? I miss my sense of time...), clutching a handbag (still working on the contents) and having her hair up in some pretty due. My ears aren't pierced though, and I'm not that bad that I'll have them pierced for the occasion. But I have started the loooong and boooooring project of epilating my eyebrows.

I looked up what eyebrows are supposed to look like. I still have a LOT of pulling to go. And as it turns out, it hurts more as you're taking a break. Also, if I don't go to bed soon, I'll need some sort of powder to liven up my... scheisse. I haven't a clue what they're called in English. Just a sec.

...

Bags. Under the eyes. Those things. I want rid of them.

Good night.

I'll need to be fit when I continue working on my eyebrows tomorrow. And I'll need to consider some sort of quick-fix tooth whitener.


Think on it,
Erane

Missing in action

It's kind of strange. Save for one brief hot flash (Four), my love life is, well, I think it's alive, but it might be braindead. And yet looking back, my life has no shortage of guys that were into me. Just a dramatic shortage of guys I was into. I remember one... no, two guys I was into. One of them was gay. The other seemed to have a problem with calling. Or texting. Or mailing. Or even talking to me on msn when I was right there. Instead, I got a via via sentiment of how bummed he was that I didn't hang at his favourite place every thursday. Gee, thanks.

In the category of guys that have been into me... Well, for instance, there's the Busguy. I don't mean the guy I travelled with for six years, I mean his friend from elementary. I think I talked with him three times or something, and somehow that was enough for him to 'realise his feelings'. I don't think Busguy and I ever talked after I figured, what the hell, I'll 'go steady' with you. Perhaps a bit strange when you think about it, but looking at my first try at a date, which took over a year of 'going steady' and ended things within a week, I'm not so surprised.

No, actually, I'm not sure I'm right to say I've never been into anyone back then. I had some serious doubts about loads of guys I hung out with. I just tended to come to the conclusion that I must be mixing up 'feelings' with regular friendship and left it at that. And hell, I've had the same discussion with myself about a few of my female friends. It's just part of the deal.

Instigator for these musings on love is, of course, my old friend Bubbles. She adressed me on msn, said, "Hey, there's this guy who used to like you, and I don't think you ever knew," and logged off.

... The hell?

Either you tell me or you don't. This is ridiculous. And the way this information comes my way, I'm not even sure I want to know. I never quite liked guys who'd tell a gossip before they tell the person it actually matters to. And I know Bubbles looks reliable, but I've experienced first hand that she'll use anything you tell her when she feels like it. Right now, I think she intends to use the info to prompt me into looking her up. (Okay, so I've been ignoring her a little. Over the past year. Since we left high-school.) But Bubbles, I refuse. I will not give in to your petty kindergarden games. I won't have any trouble sleeping just because someone in high-school used to like me that way. There won't be any time wasted pining over whoever it could be, or fishing around to find the answer.

It's probably some younger kid, anyway.


Think on it,
Erane

Hike in the woods

Well, I'm more settled in now. By this time, I have a desk to go with my PC, so motivation to keep up my blog has heightened remarkably. Something about a nagging pain in your back because you're either crouching over the keyboard or bending backwards to type while lying down just isn't very inspiring.

The desk is a gift from my aunt. She just turned 70, she's been diagnosed with cancer in her spinal cord, breasts, and probably some other places (still being treated), she lives alone (never married), she just had her home adjusted to the possibility that she'd get stuck in a wheelchair, and amidst all that loneliness and fatality I am her godchild. ... If you call it that way. She's my godmother, anyway. She wants to give me something now that I'll enjoy and remember me by for a very long time.

Now, a desk probably doesn't sound that personal to you. But it is. My aunt never throws anything away that's mildly useful, and as the old math teacher she is, she has had a lot of desks in her life. There's 4 in her upstairs living room alone, a few more in the working room further upstairs, she's ordered more to go downstairs for the wheelchair scenario... Even her very first desk, bought with sweat and labour when she was still a student, is still in use. All in all, my aunt really is a desk-lady. And it really is a beautiful desk.

So now that I can actually sit in my chair while writing my blog, I have a secret to tell about something that happened recently. It may not be very shocking, it may not quite be bribe-material... heck, it's not even in the slightest bit "naughty behavior". But I just can't tell the people that keep bringing up the event, and it's nagging at me.

A short while back, I went on another Larp. (Now, don't worry. I had two in a row, and that's all I'm having for the following 6 months. And I don't long for more.) I play a young, innocent, and only slightly corrupted child there, and have enjoyed myself heartily by stalking random people, trying to get them to give me sexual education. Which no one really dares to do. Hilarious.

Anyway. At saturday, after dinner, the whole 'village' (all the players) was gathered just outside the 'city walls' (camouflage nets) for a game of 'pigball'. Now, pigball only really has one rule: the pig (a big pink stuffed animal) has to get to the side of the other team for you to score. There's a lot of diving, hitting, kicking, and running. Wonderful to look at, exhilirating and painful to participate in. Of course, it's still larp, so the hitting and kicking is overly dramatic, somewhat slowmotion and very badly aimed, but the victims play along wonderfully.

Especially the pig. In the later matches, it became unclear which part of the pig had to cross the finish line in order to score a point.

During this game, my sweet little character noticed that one of the members of her House (clan) wasn't paying attention to what happened to the bottle of wine he'd won earlier, so she took it and went to put it away at the camp. When he noticed it missing, she/I was halfway there. He came at a full sprint, and in the brief moment I looked over my shoulder he grabbed for his sword (to secure it in his running, but heck if I knew).

So I ran like crazy. I dumped the bottle at the camp with only some care for its safety and more for my own, and kept running. When I stopped a moment to look back, he held my gaze, and froze me in my tracks. I think he said something about me being a naughty girl, and left it at that. I considered myself dismissed, and went right on running.

Because that's what my char does. When she's scared, she runs and runs 'til she isn't. In this case, the only place to go was the forest, so I ran into the forest. And got myself nicely lost in the process.

It was perfectly bright when I left the 'village'. It was pitch black when I finally got back. An hour and a half after the elf terrified me, I drifted into the monster-tent, asking something about whether I was supposed to have had an encounter in that time. And when it hit me that people had been looking for me for ages, and that I was lost, not just playing out my role, I crashed.

The rest of the evening was spent in rehydrating, calming down, and calming others down.

But here's the thing.

I found the village back in no time, but I was playing out my role. And my character would never have found the village back so quickly, not without running into something first and getting nicely traumatised in the process.

So I stayed away.

At one point, I even hid from a guy who later turned out to be my search party. As he walked away, he put on his game-master shine-in-the-dark hat, so I dismissed the encounter altogether.

I have heard plenty of signs of life, but they were not in character (a farm, the sound of a road, something that sounded like a construction site), so I stayed away. I have come across the 'village' two or three times before I finally returned, mostly because I felt it had taken long enough, and I'd just sort something out with the monsters to get that encounter I was stalling for.

My way of coping with the forest, out there on my own, was by staying in character. I wasn't afraid; my character was. I wasn't lost; my character was. I wasn't faltering in strength and voice, but you can probably guess who was. I just kept right on, a doll in one hand and a marble in the other, singing about an immortal spider getting boiling oil over it all the time. Because that's what my character would do.

But in staying in character, I also kept the factors that I'd decided were in character true. I made sure that I stayed lost, though I kept some track of which way the village lay. I started staggering because I figured my character would be tired, rather than firmly walking straight to where I needed to be. And, okay, I really was losing my voice. I was singing non-stop and parched; go figure.

When I talk to the people that were there, they keep repeating how worried they were. At the things I do tell them about what happened out there, they keep telling me how I should have sought out civilisation. How I should have stepped out of my role the minute she'd got so scared she'd run away. How, basically, I should have stepped out of my character and considered the situation as such. Which was exactly what I was avoiding.

And I just can't tell them. I can't tell them I was so keen on doing the reverse, that I actually kept myself lost. Even to the point where I avoided the large roads because, well, that's no fun. Lost is lost. And lost in the woods means small trails, if any. I've even stabbed right through the forest, without a path, in full night. That's just about when I started to have enough of it. And even then, I found the village, and headed the other way for a while, only the lack of forks in the road got me so bored that I finally turned back and 'handed myself in'.

They knew straight away when I was lost. The guy that scared me into it realised it just minutes after it happened. They snapped out of their roles within half an hour, and have been searching me for an hour more outside of their roles. They were just about to stop the entire game, and organise a huge scale search with the 100+ people present. And there I was, playing along, singing, and turning back when I saw lights. I just can't tell them. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to.

Think on it,
Erane

New room

I have a room. I'm in it right now. It's a temporary room, scheduled for demolition some time next year, but it's still a nice place and my roommates are quite nice. Right now, I'm lying on a strange construction of pillows that enables me to still use the computer, which is installed on the floor. My new desk comes in next weekend.

I don't feel like typing anymore. I've got some downloaded shows coming in right now.


Think on it,
Erane