I don’t really think it needs to be said, but I’ll state the obvious: I’m a huge dork. My brother’s only been telling me that for the last 20 years, and I know he’s not wrong. But my dorkiness comes and goes—sometimes I feel downright hip—but today, today I am going to bask in the completeness of my inner dork, nerd, and geek, rolled into one.
Gather around, and let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time, I was a dorky seventeen, working at the local Taco Bell. I would work late nights, mostly because, well, my friends did. And these friends, they liked to play Magic the Gathering (MtG) late into the night. And as a girl playing, I was a huge novelty. My friends gave me cards, made my decks, forgot about me when we played in massive group games to the point where I might, and did, win.
MtG: Arena
I enjoyed playing, and there was a book that was passed around, called Arena, that was pretty much the most awesomest book ever. Well, by ever, I mean in the history of MtG. Which at that time, wasn’t a terribly long list; from what I gather, Arena was possibly the first.1 But what I liked about the book, and probably what other people liked about it too, was that the main character was someone like us—someone who controlled mana and cast spells, as you do in the game. It was unique in that for a fantasy, it was a different look at the world. It was the introduction of “the plainswalker.”2 The plainswalker in the book was the position the player had while playing the game. Instead of a lightning bolt being an actual, natural lightning bolt, it was a spell pulled from a pouch and called into being, much as you would play a card from your hand.
Now, fast forward, oh, nearly ten years or so. I’m done playing MtG. I sold all my cards off or gave them away. I only desperately want a copy of Arena because I remember how awesome it was, and I’m on a terrible nostalgia trip about the books I’ve loved. And then E comes back from summer vacation, hooked on MtG bad. I mentioned that I used to play, if he ever wanted someone to play with. And so we did. Even before we were “official” with our dating, he had already amassed a large card collection that we “shared,” meaning he bought it, and it stayed at my place.
This pretty much meant I didn’t have to worry about amassing cards myself, because I nearly never use them. They just look pretty, as there are always more cards than can go into a deck. But, as we get back into it, I think more and more about Arena, and how much I liked it. And wonder in passing if there are still MtG books. And of course there are. But now, these books are based on the sets; a new book is released to go along with each card set.
MtG: Morningtide
MtG: Lorwyn
And being hooked on MtG again, I get a hankering to read these books, especially the book to go with the card set that I had become enamored with, Morningtide3. Every time I went to Barnes and Nobel, I checked the shelves but it was never there. For Christmas, I ended up getting E a Fat Pack, which has some cards, dividers, boxes to match the set, and yay! for me, the Morningtide book. But It was still awhile until I read the book. Morningtide was a secondary set release, and it’s book, much like it’s cards, required Lorwyn to make full use of it. I didn’t really even think about reading the book until E bought a Lorwyn Fat Pack4. And then, of course I had to. So over a rather long period of time, I read them both. And thought they were rather good, actually. I could recognize some characters as related to specific cards in the deck, but I was really brought into the world that MtG has created.
I am not sure how this book world relates to the other sets of cards other than the Lorwyn/Morningtide/Shadowmoor/Eventide block, as I don’t really play past sets (though I still am fond for the Urza’s block), and haven’t read any other than the three books. The only part that really bothered me was the untied plotstrings at the end of the second book. The first makes you read the second (and the second really needs the first to make sense), but the end of the second doesn’t really end things. The world has changed, and the book ends right on the cusp of that change. And I’m nuts over the unresolved plot involving the Morningstar elf, who isn’t a card in her own right and seems to play a major if not understood or explained roll in the second book.
I could hope that the Shadowmoor book would pick up the plot, since that card set is “after” of the events that occur in the book, but just reading descriptions online doesn’t really make it clear. Morningtide is obviously a book two (it even says it on Amazon), but Shadowmoor is listed as it’s own series, making it unclear if it goes with the previous two books. Being the huge dork that I am, I will probably pick up Shadowmoor just to figure out what’s going on.
- It’s hard to tell, details are very sketchy on the MtG site. In fact, had I not ever read it and distinctly remembered it’s name, I probably never would have ever found a copy at The Used Bookstore in Chico. [back]
- Which, oddly, becomes a card type in the Lorwyn block of MtG. Because of this book, I feel very meta playing a plainswalker in my deck, when I used to be the role of a plainswalker. [back]
- I fell in love with the artwork, and then the way the set was played. What can I say. Distracted by shiny pretty things. [back]
- I won’t lie, it was mostly for the book and the “life counter.” But all E’s purchase. [back]
I woke up Saturday morning ready to find a job.
Which is a big step for me, actually. I’ve spent the last three months in denial that this is my last semester—though I’m ready for it to be over—and that on May 24 I won’t be a student any more, just unemployed.
My resume’s been looked at by the career center, now I just need to take it to my certificate advisor, and tweak it for a publishing job. But outside of publishing, I have no idea what job titles I’m searching for. I know what I want to do, and know that I’ll be good at it, but don’t know how that will translate into a job search.
Oh well. I’ll probably start applying places next week; I promised E I would apply for five jobs before I would buy a new bathing suit, and since Victoria’s Secret is having a ridiculously good sale on bikini’s, I’ve got some motivation to get things done.
So, job searching is top of the list now. Even above homework. Above hanging out with E. Above pretty much anything. I need to find a really good job where I can afford a one bedroom apartment on my own by the end of September. I’m not looking forward to moving back in with my parents while I save up for down payment and such.
So, if you know of an awesome job in the Sacramento area, hit me up. I’m looking.
I’m pretty much going to fail a class this semester. Worse still, I don’t particularly care.
For some reason, I decided last fall, when looking for classes, that since I needed a class specifically for the units and nothing else, that I’d take whatever one of my other friends was enrolled in that seemed interesting. Turned out, it was Physiology with E.
Physiology is pretty interesting, in that it’s all about how the body works. And the lab portion is always interesting; sometimes I get to shock E, sometimes he gets to make me taste horrid things.
But I am most definitely failing this class. No matter how I study for the lecture portion, whether I take extensive notes on the chapters, whether E and I quiz each other on the info, whether or not I show up to class, I am just not performing well when it comes to regurgitating information.
This is probably the hardest class I’ve taken in my college career. It’s the first one that made me feel like I was at a university and not a community college. Odd that it’s a 100-level course, and my last semester of school.
I’m pretty resigned to failure. This subject is not my forte. I have a problem remembering scientific terms, and I most definitely need a word-bank when asked to define terms. And unlike in English, I can’t talk my way into a reason. Either it’s right or wrong, there is no gray area in this level of science.
But why don’t I care? I think it’s a bigger problem then realizing that I am no good at this subject. There is a ton of stuff that I don’t particularly care about this semester. Most of it being school.
It’s my last semester, and I don’t care about any of my classes. I have three and an internship, not a single one is holding my attention to any length.
Most of the time, I’m stressing about the future. The economy is shit but I need to find a job. A job that is preferably somewhere close to E’s job, but we’re not talking about that because it’s still to far away. I’m worried about moving, about starting a new job, about what to do with the dog if I’m in another apartment (which I most assuredly will be), how am I going to pay back my student loan, and will I get to live happily ever after.
Since I don’t have answers to anything yet, it’s much easier to bury my head in the sand and pretend that nothing is happening at all. That my entire world is going to shift in less than four months.
So I’m failing and I don’t really care. My GPA can’t really go anywhere because I’ve got so many units as it is; failing isn’t going to keep me from my degree, and I needed these units only to get my money at the beginning of the semester, they serve no functional purpose now.
I pretty much need to shake myself out of this funk. And to do so, I’m going to try to start with blogging. Oh, how I’ve missed you, blog. I’ve grown bored with the internet, sunk deep into a malaise that I don’t know how to get out of. But I need to start doing what I love, and I love writing.
So, hold me accountable. Has it been more than three days since I last posted? Call me out. Twitter me. (@unsympathetic). Poke me. Email me. Whatever it is, however you do it, make me write.
Oh, and if you’ve got a topic idea, give it to me. Usually this place is all about me, but I never know what people are interested in. A jumping off point is always appreciated.
