Mah gamer edumacation

Before I met Mister, I didn't really play a lot of video-games. I'd basically been playing the sims since the first version of it came out in 2000. That's a long time ago. I remember before the sims 1 came out, I read a review of it in a magazine. I kept that magazine hidden under my mattress, the way juvenile boys might hide porn. Although I would like to point out that I didn't use it THAT way.

Nowadays I'm undergoing serious gamer-edumacation. Typical conversation in our household involve things like: "hunni, would you mind throwing a hand grenade over there?" and "nice headshot!"

I also have idiot moments. Like when I was playing Mafia II. You're supposed to be a scary mobster, and you drive around in a car and commit crime and whatnot. Mister sat next to me while I played, explaining how the cops might take notice of me if I ran a red light, and stuff like that. I was driving around like a good girl. Then at some point I had to steal a car. Next thing I knew, I was in a high-speed car chase with roadblocks being put up and people screaming and flailing as I drove past, with a tail of flashing police vehicles behind me. For some reason it didn't occur to me that this was not the time to stop at red lights. Needless to say, that didn't end very well for me.

A couple of nights ago, I had a really weird dream. Not that there's anything new about that, as you probably know. In this dream, Mister was having an argument with a gang of thugs. I was "helping" by running around behind them, cutting the thugs' Achilles heels with a pair of kitchen scissors while going "snip, snip! Snip, snip!" I'm never playing 'grand theft auto' before bed again, ever.

Tuna & Thesis

.I have never been a breakfast person. My stomach wakes up around noon, completely independent of when the rest of me wrangles itself out of bed. Every once in a while I do make an exception. This is mostly because I feel like I should. I've had my head piped full of “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” and stuff like that, ever since I was a kid.

The other day was a forced exception. My step-sister came over for breakfast. Technically, I suppose it was more of an early lunch, but my stomach wasn’t awake yet at any rate. I sat down at the kitchen table and started making a tuna sandwich.

“mayo…adding tuna…one, two, three slices of pickle…” I said, carefully documenting everything, not because I didn’t know how to build a tuna sandwich, but because I’m not all that accustomed to preparing breakfast and so it took a bit of concentration. I realized that I didn't have to narrate the entire birth of my sandwich, but I was on a funny sort of an auto pilot.

At some point The Step-Sister asked about The Thesis (of doom) and I gave out my standard reply, all the while intensely focused on the collection of bread, salads and whatnots on my plate. Then she and The Step-Mum chattered on for a bit, before she turned back to me and asked “are you nearing the end of it soon?”

I carefully examined my sandwich and responded: “yeah, just about done now. It just needs a bit more lettuce.”

Lesson learned: drink more coffee before breakfast.