As it perfectly sums up a life Janie-lived:
As it perfectly sums up a life Janie-lived:
Lol. No. Not at all. Boy-me’s life doesn’t seem so great either.
So my email address, which I will not leave here, is just my first initial and my last name. Most days I will receive emails addressed to “Joseph [my name last name, presumably also his].”
And goddamn. It appears that Joseph’s life is also particularly You Life-y.
Here are some samples of what I receive on Joseph’s behalf:
He’s in credit card debt. I called this credit card company to ensure that someone didn’t steal my identity (and also to ensure the credit card company that if someone did – I’m already in credit card debt and that I was the wrong mark). They assured me that Joseph is taking care of it. Good job, Joe!
He’s also in crushing student loan debt! Fuck yeahhhhhhh, buddy. Me too. Go us on taking the gamble on higher education in the face of what is basically high interest loans distributed to teenagers.
He drives a 1998 Isuzu Hombre – a car that I’ve never ever heard of. But some engine or whatever the fuck is inside cars looks like a smiley faced character from a Pixar movie!
Goddamn. That thing is fucking cute.
Other things I’ve received on behalf of Joseph:
So Joseph [my last name], it’s good to know that the combination of our first initial and last name has generated a better understanding about what it’s like to be us – deeply in debt with terrible methods of transportation and exes that profoundly hate us.
Free to be you and me!
All of my favorite games are ones available as free demos on PCs from the early to mid 90s. Like, if my parents truly loved me and bought me a version of Dinosaur Tycoon circa 1993 – the game available at the computer lab in my grammar school – that would probably reign supreme as most favorite game, but they didn’t. (to be fair [TBF] my dad did buy me a copy of Mortal Kombat 3 for the PC, which I was obsessed with but never totally got a solid grasp on the combat codes for the keyboard which means I could just kind of wander around the screen as Sonya Blade – who I still have a crush on. Like…a big crush on).
Hold on – I found an image of the aforementioned dinosaur game, which I guess was actually called DinoPark Tycoon and now my childhood memories are in a tailspin because 1. I never got the name right, which means that I NEVER spelled it right when requesting it on my Christmas lists and 2. I really wanna play this jawn now.
Okay, back to my main point, I really love/d demo games for the PC. I dominated the demo games. I attribute that domination to months of boredom and a lack of shame for not realizing that to land safely in the first frame of Prince of Persia you had to dangle from the fucking lip of the pit to get onto the concrete below instead of just hurtling oneself down time and time and time again until accidentally your little prince dangles and you drop safely.
You don’t even want to KNOW how long figuring out the spike situation took me.
I actually know nothing about the rest of that ^ game, because my family never advanced beyond free demos during the early days of computers. And because of that I always thought that computer games ended in a black screen with me winning because you could no longer advance.
Like…I thought Prince of Persia was done once you defeated the very first boss, and to get to that boss it took me well over a year.
There were other iterations of demo games in the early to mids: frogger, and…something else, I don’t remember.
But time goes on, and eventually my family came to embrace the PC games of the day: Myst, Where in the World (or USA) is Carmen San Diego?, the aforementioned Mortal Kombat 3. And then demo games just ended up living fondly in my memory.
Until I got an Acer laptop circa 2009, and bless that sweet marvelous. It came with hella demo games.
There was an Agatha Christie-like mystery game
And numerous puzzle games
A first person shooter game
Something having to do with making cakes
A cornucopia of games. I felt like Don Draper getting to choose from my pick of honeys.
JK. I never feel like Don Draper, I’m just watching Mad Men while I write this.
But the shitty thing about these demos is that once you finished the demo’ed version once, you could never play it again unless you purchase said game. And since this computer is ancient by modern computer standards, these games are essentially just dust in the machine.
What. The. Horsey. Sauce.
It’s been years since I scrolled through the archives of the Acer demo games, only to find one, recently, that I never played.
So I started to play it. Only to discover (pretty quickly) that maybe this game was a little less magical than one would hope for in a diversion. As it had such exciting options as:
* seeing your crop turn to ash during a brutal winter
* bargaining with your neighbor for scant food supplies
* trying to barter with a town market to take the yield from your crops and having to settle for less than what they’re worth
* and such real life excitement, as:
So just as quickly, I stopped playing this game because the above co-pay is even more expensive than my actual one.
I’ll tell you what, Health Care Depression (or whatever this game is called) is way less fun than trying to jump over spikes for six months only to find some dude with a sword waiting for you once you finally figure it out. Particularly, when I have to ask myself eerie questions, like: “do I have enough money to satisfy this medical appointment?” (I didn’t).
So, I downloaded this ol’ jawner today instead of continuing with the evil demo reflection of, these, our miserable modern times.
Especially, when I can finally re-play a game where certain blocks of cement open up cage partitions instead.
Fuck a spike death.
I guess that’s a phrase that teenagers and social media savvy adults say. And, presumably, your brand is sort of like your online identity that is superior to your real identity and you can use that brand to sell shit to people who think you’re actually a real human. That’s it, right?
Anyway, as it turns out, without having actually worked on it I already have a brand. And unintentionally I’ve been developing it continuously and recklessly for, like, my whole adult life.
My phone is so cracked that I can barely see anything on it. It’s like a little deconstructionist phone.
And the photo that potentially exemplifies me as a person the most:
In case you were wondering – that’s my diploma being used as a coaster for my Mickey’s. Also…my coffee table. Complete with a coffee cup filled with the crust of coffee from I don’t actually know how long ago.
I always kind of envisioned the tooth fairy as this babely femme that I had weird feelings about as a child. Like…do I like-like the tooth fairy? I fixated a lot on her as a child. Like…a lot.
I used to write her super intense letters, one time writing to her about how I wanted a cake topper of Cat-Woman (as portrayed by Michelle Pfeiffer in Batman Returns – her portraying Cat-Woman that is, not portraying a cake topper). The whole thing must have been super weird for my parents to read.
My belief in the tooth fairy was kind of destroyed by an episode of Dennis the Menace (the old school live action one, not the cartoon) where they talked about her not being real. I don’t remember being pissed or ashamed, but since those two things kind of typified my childhood (…and adulthood), I’m sure I was.
However, maybe Dennis got it wrong. Maybe the tooth fairy IS real. And maybe she is hanging out in and around West Philadelphia. Because when I walked out of my apartment the other morning, I was greeted with this:
As in, it was in front of my door. Having known a little bit about dentures (whatever, don’t judge my interests), I could immediately tell that this was a pretty expensive piece and therefore the owner – or the tooth fairy – would be very bummed about its disappearance. I snapped the above shot to see if I could zoom-in and see if there was a serial number on that jawn-er so I could contact someone (toothhhhhhhh fairy?).
Went to 7-11. Got some coffee and some shitty pizza. Walked back.
THE TEETH WERE FUCKING GONE.
Dude, if I hadn’t taken the photo I would be doubting their actuality. The trip to 7z couldn’t have taken more than 10 minutes, including the walk to and fro. Where did the teeth go? I didn’t even get my shining moment of saviorhood in an attempt to contact the tooth fairy (or owner) regarding their missing chompers.
But, if the coming and going of this pair of teethies means that the tooth fairy IS real AND visiting West Philadelphia…what’s up, pup? Youuuuuu wanna get a drink some time? Maybe discuss cake toppers?
What I’m saying is that I want to date the tooth fairy.
I’m turning 33 tomorrow (Rejoice!Rejoice! Emmanuel) and that fact is a true surprise to us all, especially my friends that have had a death poll on me since I was 22.
BUT I’M STILL HERE:
And as such I’m making difficult choices as I extend my birthday from one day (tomorrow, the year of our Lord and the start of my Jesus birthday, August 16th) to three days starting today. Such as, which ice cream sundae do I eat today?
And since 33 is gonna be the year where I petition for help in all the right places, I fielded out this decision to other people:
I’m a motherfucking Jesus-aged lady (almost) and I’m gonna order both fucking sundaes today.