What is it about a farming-sim game that's so addictive?
I first encountered Harvest Moon for the Nintendo 64 and I confess, the box with the boy & his dog did look rather cute, but I could not believe anyone would pay good money to play a farming video game. Yeah, what a great game. Get up, milk the cows, feed the chickens & collect the eggs, water the plants, pick the tomatoes and put them in the shipping bin, run into town for some supplies, return to the farm to feed the cows, eat some dinner and go to bed. Get up and do it all again, and again, and again, and again...get the picture?
But my curiousity was piqued. I went home, surfed the web, googled Harvest Moon and discovered a multitude of Harvest Moon fans, and the more I looked into the game the more appealing it became. Before I knew it I'd taken the plunge and purchased a copy of my own, and I became hooked.
Then a couple of months ago Harvest Moon:A Wonderful Life for the Gamecube came out. I started reading reviews and got mixed opinions from people. I figured this was a "try before you buy" game but after renting it from Blockbuster and playing it for a week, I knew I wanted Harvest Moon's latest incarnation. Since buying it, I don't think a single day has gone by that I haven't played it. The problem is that one day in the game takes approximately twenty minutes to play, as every hour of gametime is exactly one minute of realtime. Then before you know it you've played several game days and a couple of hours of realtime have passed. Just one more day, you think, and suddenly it's 1 o'clock in the morning, and WTF?! How did it get so late so quick? I've got to get up for work in 4 ½ hours!!!
Oh well, it's late now anyway, I'll just play one more day ;)
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A Fool and her Goldfish are soon parted
Sunday, May 30, 2004, 10:14 a.m.
I took John Edward to the local Pet Store yesterday so he could see the Hermit Crabs in their colorful shells, and also so I could buy a few supplies for our fish tank.
The Fish Guy was assisting another customer who had brought in a jar of water from their tank to find out why their fish were dying. So the Fish Guy tested the water and found the Ammonia & PH levels were extremely high. Further questioning of the customer revealed that they had a 5-gallon cold-water tank with 7 tropical fish in it. The comfort level for fish is 1-inch of fish per gallon of water, and in case you need it spelled out for you; Tropical Fish cannot survive in a cold-water tank.
When I bought a tank for John Edward I did sooooooo much reading before hand about keeping fish, and discovered it's nowhere near as easy as you might think. I bought a book which explained about cycling a fish tank and the ammonia spike. Later I bought three Telescope Goldfish, because I have a cold-water tank and these guys are cold-water fish, and I then worried that three of them might be too many for my 10-gallon tank, so every week I do a 25% water change.
Then I run into someone who's done the exact opposite.
They probably bought their tiny 5-gallon tank and half-a-dozen "cute" fish on the same trip to the pet store, got home, unpacked their tank and filled it with water, then dumped their fish straight in. They had no heater for their warm-water fish, probably had no filter, probably never even changed the water or knew why they needed to change it...and then they wonder why their fish die.
Ignorant people don't deserve pets of any kind.
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Poor Mama Bear
Saturday, May 29, 2004, 08:35 a.m.
I was watching Shrek last night and I noticed that when the fairy tale creatures first come to Shrek's swamp, Papa Bear is comforting a very sad Baby Bear.
Later in the movie, after Shrek rescues Princess Fiona, the scene changes to Lord Farquaad lying in bed, watching the Magic Mirror. Disturbingly, on the floor in front of the fire in Farquaad's bedroom, was a bear pelt with a pink bow in its hair.
Lord Farquaad turned Mama Bear into a Bear Skin Rug!!!
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Be Uma; kill Bill
Thursday, May 27, 2004, 03:30 p.m.
Interesting...click here to become "The Bride" and take on the Crazy 88.
"hrat" appears to be Czechoslavakian for "Play".
"stahnout hru" allows you to download the game and play offline. Be warned, the downloaded game plays a lot faster than the web version.
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My Battle Cry is...
Thursday, May 27, 2004, 10:49 a.m.
Funny. I always thought I'd be more inclined to use the typical Warhammer 40K Orcs' Battle Cry of "WWwwwwwaaaaaaaagggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"
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Bravery
Thursday, May 27, 2004, 07:30 a.m.
In keeping in theme with Xinher's recent blog about her sexual harassment seminar, I present you with an amusing (and sexist) tidbit that arrived in my email inbox this morning.
Bravery: Arriving home at 3am after a guys' night out, being met by your broom-wielding wife and asking, "Are you cleaning, or getting ready to fly somewhere?"
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Which reminds me of the time Liz & I were staying at a Caravan Park in Inverloch, Victoria, Aust. I had some contract work which was scheduled to take 4 weeks but our crew completed the job on the Friday of the third week. The foreman was so happy that he took us out to lunch at the local pub. At noon, as I left our caravan, I optimistically informed Liz that I'd be back in an hour or so.
Eight hours later...after drinking a copious amount of beer and playing countless games of pool with the guys...I looked at my watch and became fully aware of the time.
I ran back to the Caravan Park and entered our empty caravan, yes, empty; Liz was not in there. I turned around and started to head back out of the caravan, intending to look for Liz, but she'd already found me and this wild-eyed woman stormed into the caravan.
I guess I looked so contrite, and Liz was so relieved that I wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere, that I actually survived that night without losing any body parts.
Had Liz been wielding a broom that evening when she entered the caravan, there's no way on God's green earth I would have asked her if she was cleaning or getting ready to go out somewhere. That's not bravery, that's either stupidity or complete and total inebriation.
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Snopes.com
Wednesday, May 26, 2004, 03:43 p.m.
You know what else ticks me off?
Those emails that constantly circulate the globe assisted by internet or email newbies and people with good intentions...and just how much of history's wanton destruction, death & mayhem was caused by people with good intentions. The Crusades; the Spanish Inquisition; the burning of "witches"; the Jewish Holocaust; the dropping of the A-Bombs on Japan, all caused by people with "good intentions".
I apologize to every surviving victim of the Holocaust, Nagasaki, and Hiroshima for comparing this thread to the afore mentioned events.
I digress, but you know the emails I'm talking about; the ones that warn about not opening your door at night when you hear a crying baby because it's really a serial rapist.
YES! I actually get this crap!
And I'm always implored to pass this on to the women I know and love so they won't open their door to the nocturnal wailing baby and be raped. I'm warned by well meaning friends new to the 'net not to flash my lights at night because the guy driving w/o lights could be a gang member undergoing an initiation to shoot the first person who flashes their lights at him! I'm even warned to evacuate my car when I'm stopped at a stoplight if I hear the cry of "SpunkBall!" and something comes hurtling through my open window!
Allow me to point you all towards one of the most useful websites on the 'net, the one and only Snopes.com. Yes, there are other "Urban Legend" sites out there, but I like Snopes, and I find myself visiting it quite regularly to find Snopes take on a recently received email. Now it's not all doom or gloom, for I now know that our retired Senators & Congressmen/women do not receive gazillions of dollars in pensions for the rest of their natural lives, as one recent email claimed.
So stop forwarding this crap! Or if you are going to forward it, at least verify the truthfulness of it first! Vist Snopes.com, educate yourself, and educate your friends.
PSA Over
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Washed Tissue
Wednesday, May 26, 2004, 08:34 a.m.
I stuck my head in the dryer last night looking for my running shorts, but I couldn't find them because they hadn't actually been washed. To my horror, what I did find was what appeared to be a chunk of tissue. Oh boy!
For those of you who've never run a tissue through a washing machine then a dryer and are wondering what might happen, here's a word of advice for you, DON'T!!!
I was actually very surprised that everything in the drier was not covered in tissue lint.
Anyway, I'm sitting here at work this morning and I found out what the "tissue" really was, and thank heavens it wasn't really a tissue. It was actually a business card I'd left in my shirt pocket which hadn't like getting washed...kind of like my cell-phone which got washed and tumble dried, it didn't fare too well either...good thing I don't carry a gun with me :P
The five-dollar bill I recently ran through the wash came up really nice though...nothing like freshly laundered money ;)
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I'm Back!!!
Wednesday, May 26, 2004, 07:35 a.m.
Ok, My Blog - Take II.
Don't worry, the dreams I recorded when I first blogged are still here; they haven't disappeared into the cosmos. They've been archived and can be found by clicking right here.
So, now what?
Random thoughts are always a good place to start.
You know what pisses me off? Injustice, but not just any old injustice, oh no, fictional injustices are what really get under my skin. I imagine unfair situations that could occur, but which I haven't personally witnessed, and I create whole scenarios based on this imagined injustice.
For example, I imagine someone getting into an accident which was not only entirely not their fault but which they had no way of avoiding, such as getting rear-ended while stopping for a red light. It's a terrible thing to happen, and it could happen, and it really does happen, and it's very unfair to a careful driver because the accident was totally not their fault...but I don't stop there with my imagined scenario.
The second driver's insurance company pays for all repair work to the first driver's car but, and here's where the real injustice comes in, the first person's insurance company jacks up his rates because he has now been involved in an accident and is no longer the careful, accident-free driver he first was when he signed up with the insurance company. Never mind that the accident was not his fault and that he could not have avoided it in any way, at least not without running a red light and risking causing an accident of his own; the insurance company says that because he was involved in an accident, his rates go up.
But wait! There's more!
The driver protests that the accident was not his fault so why is he being penalized, but does the insurance company care? Nooooo, he was involved in an accident, so his rates go up. So the driver approaches another insurance company, who naturally check his driving record and find out he was just recently involved in an accident, so the rates they quote him reflect that. Never mind that this imaginary guy has been driving for years without a single accident until now, and that this accident was not his fault, every insurance company he approaches quotes him a high rate because he was recently involved in an accident.
But wait! There's more!
The driver then takes his original insurance company to court on the grounds that they are discriminating against him. Yes he was involved in an accident, but it was not his fault and he had no way of avoiding it, not only that but all repair work for the damage caused by the accident was actually paid for by the other driver's insurance company, and yet his insurance company still wants to increase his rates.
Fortunately I manage to reign in my galloping imagination at this point, which, unfortunately, means you don't get to find out how the judge decided the case.
Now having not been involved in an accident here in the U.S. I do not know if this is true or not, so why the hell am I so concerned about it??? I don't know, but I just get worked up so much by this and (as my wife will attest if you decide to ask her) many other "imagined" injustices.
I concoct whole scenarios about many things which have not happened, and I get really worked up about them, but...THEY'RE NOT REAL!!!
Man, as if life isn't stressful enough, I have to go and get worked up about imaginary incidents.
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