I had a pretty average childhood for the most part. Went to public schools, didn't move around too much. Had a decent number of friends, but wasn't super popular. It was all just pretty average.
However, there were some things that occurred that were not average at all. In fact, they were pretty fucked up. Now, everybody's got their crazy stories about weird shit that happened once upon a time, but most of them don't have anything to do with something so quaint as a spiral notebook.
Yesterday I picked up a copy of Dungeons of Dredmor by Gaslamp Games on Steam for a deliriously low price. I had previously seen the game-play trailer on the Steam store page but wasn't sure about picking up the title until I saw this video from The Cynical Brit. Who, by the way, is awesome, and not just because his English accent makes everything just slightly funnier.
Dungeons of Dredmor is basically an old-school roguelike game, similar to Angband. It's got all of the typical roguelike features: it's really hard, you die a lot, there's random junk everywhere, there's tons of monsters, you die a lot, etc etc. What it adds to the genre is, wait for it... graphics! Don't get me wrong, roguelikes are great, I've had a lot of fun with Angband, but monochrome text characters gets a little tiring. Also, I have a mouse; it is not a new invention; it is wonderful for controlling things. Dredmor is capable of understanding the mystical signals that emanate from mice, it's amazing!
I don't have a lot of memories of the time before I was five. I remember lying on the floor in, I think, the living room, having just found what appeared to be some sort of gelatinous excreta, presumably from the cat. This was the first time I had ever encountered such a thing, and I found it to be bewildering, like finding a jellyfish on the beach.
I remember falling down the stairs to the basement once. That is to say, I fell down the stairs, and what I actually remember were the stairs quickly rotating around me as I got closer to the bottom. Amazingly, perhaps via some extra-sensory motherly intuition, my mom caught me before I hit the bottom. I've always found this memory to be perplexing as well, mainly due to the peculiarity of how I remember it.
I have another memory, of my mom carrying me quickly out of the house, my father close behind, screaming at us. I didn't know what was going on, only that it was bad. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety, which, to some degree, still lingers on most days.
I spent the vast majority of this week doing something that anybody who spends a lot of time with computers is probably familiar with: dicking around with my computer. And when I say "dicking around", what I really mean is "desperately trying to fix the fucking thing-holyshitIhopeIdon'tloseallmyfiles"
In the car on the way to work today I noticed that the clock was off by an hour. Oh, daylight savings must have happened, I thought. Because, lets face it, I don't set clocks anymore. My cellphone tells me what time it is. I don't have to dick around and look at the calendar and figure out that we're in the middle of some ancient agrarian harvest festival or whatever. I just look at it. It has the current time on it. Done. End of story.
Why do we even still have daylight savings? It's never made much sense to me. Hell, I don't even know if we just started it or stopped it. I'm barely even aware of whether we gained or lost an hour. Does it even matter? I go to bed at one time and wake up at another. I don't really care if the amount of time in between somehow changed while I was unconscious. It simply doesn't effect anything (other than possibly my mood due to lack of sleep, but that's pretty standard).
I've heard that the government has been trying to phase out daylight savings for quite some time. I'm not entirely sure why it needs to be phased out. Then again, they tried to teach Americans how to use the metric system and we all nearly shit our brains out fumbling around with the world's simplest unit conversion system. I guess it's no surprise that if, as a country, we can't teach children how to multiply and divide by 10 we're sure as heck not going to figure out how to not change the clocks twice a year. My mind reels at the audacity of such a stupendous chore!
Oh well, at least daylight savings doesn't break everybody's Zune. Right?