Damn Zack Stern. It has been a few weeks since we had a game night. Everyone's been busy, and between Dave and Kate Austin-Groen's new baby, Submergency and all the other madness, Game Night was the first to go. So a few of us gathered at Zack's tonight to play with his Wii (because that joke never gets old). I've certainly been aware of the device and heard good things about it. Graphics aren't "next gen, but it's a lot of fun, but really more for gatherings than solo play" seem to be the concensus.
Well, I'm friggin hooked on the thing now. I love the idea that playing a video game can actually get your heart rate up, and boxing against Dave certainly did that. I got my ass handed to me, but it definitely wasn't a sedentary experience. The accursed thing isn't even that expensive by console standards. My one concern was the infrared transmitter, due to the way I'm set up with my LCD projector. Zack informed me that putting some candles in front of my screen surface will work as well.
I love the fact that I can make a super groovy new high tech gadget work with candlelight.
So, guess what I'll be getting myself for Christmas?
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On the way home, I was sitting on BART, working on the novel. I finally began to figure out what this chapter was about and all the twists and turns these characters make. I'm working with the Queen of Thune and the head of her espionage team, so nobody can afford to make dumb choices. The question is simply how many lies and deceptions get piled up on one another before truth is achieved. But that's neither here nor there. As I'm writing, the woman next to me interrupts me to point out that when I type, my right pinkey sticks out and that could cause me ergonomic trouble over time. I had, of course, never noticed that before. Now I'm paranoid about it. I can barely type now without it feeling weird and stress inducing. I was fine, before and now I'm freaked. The even stranger this is that she's an actor. We did readings together for the Actors Reading Writers event a few months ago in Berkeley and she's working with the SF Playhouse on their current show.
I've been meaning to catch the show, and now I really want to (she's quite good)... but I don't know what I'm going to do about this damn pinky.
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The senseless ravings of a lover, poet, and lunatic. Granted the three terms are pretty much synonyms, but you can learn to deal with that over time.
1 comment:
Yeah, but if the ergonomic stress got too bad, how cool would it be to have a prosthetic pinky. (OK, the fun would be mostly in the alliteration, but still. . .)
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