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Last night I saw the Buffy episode where Jenny Calender bites it. And even though I knew it was coming, I still got a bit misty-eyed. What made up for my grief was my dream last night, where I was starring in an episode (that was a strange mix of "The Puppet Show", only because there was a talent show/play) and I was playing the part of Ms. Calendar. Not in a dressing up in drag to look like her way, but more that I was playing a teacher who knew the kids and was dating Giles. I had a lot of fun with my access to touching aned flirting with Rupert. The dream was somewhat lucid, because I knew I was me and looked forward to the episode being over so I could officially introduce myself as Raymond to Tony and ask him out for a beer and I was looking forward to hearing his real accent and see if he really would be this dreamy combination of Spike and Giles.
I have a problem.
I do find it interesting that I was aware the whole scenario was constructed, but instead of realizing it was a dream, my brain interpreted it as me being an actor in a show, even though there were no cameras or a script.
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freakysparks will be pleased to know she had a bit part. I was sitting next to her during an interactive part of the play, and she told me a strange story about a rug she bought for her sister that was sitting in her house unused. I left her side to go find my date though.
I later had a second dream involvingvfc writing in her livejournal about starting to talk/flirt with this person that I knew was a pathological liar and realized the liar had taked information I had given him about Liza to construct this fake personality to become friends with her. I felt a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach because I was partially responsible for the fiasco and knew I needed to call Liza right away in the morning to warn her before anything bad happened. I didn't realize this was a dream until I'd already woken up and started telling Melanie about the Giles dream. In the back of my mind I was still thinking about the pathological liar problem and if I hadn't been paying close attention, I might have really made the phone call. In real-life, I need to call Liza about something less crucial, like hanging out and watching a movie or something.
I know my obsession with The Sims will wane soon enough. I always become obsessed with something, expose myself to if 12 hours a day for a week, then I just integrate it normally into my everyday existence at a more reasonable level. But I can't help but think that this game feels different to me than my typical video game or movie or book obsession. It's tapping into a part of my brain I haven't used in a fifteen years or more. I find myself thinking about my Lego and Playmobil towns and even the Fisher-price 'little people' figures, or whatever they're called now. You know, those wooden cylindrical bodies with plastic round heads. I had a farm and a main street and some other smaller props. I also remember having figurines based on Sesame Street characters, including not only Ernie and Big Bird but also Maria, Susan, Bob, and Gordon.
With all of the miniature life re-creations, I would spend hours and hours creating elaborate plotlines and characters and dramas. I did this with GI Joe characters as well (who rarely went to all out war, there were usually just skirmishes and secret sabotage missions). I also liked doll houses, not because I really liked the dolls, but just because I like the tiny versions of houses and recreating daily processes. The best Barbie prop I ever saw was a McDonald's, that had tiny plastic hamburgers you could put together.
We don't 'play house' once we become adults and we live everyday in a bastardized version of the game. But playing it again with this game makes me realize it's still fun and still serves a purpose. If I can find self-worth in a tiny cartoon version of me (because even the characters who aren't me are still me -- it's like writing a novel), maybe then I'm more likely to motivate myself to take better care of myself.
I have a problem.
I do find it interesting that I was aware the whole scenario was constructed, but instead of realizing it was a dream, my brain interpreted it as me being an actor in a show, even though there were no cameras or a script.
freakysparks will be pleased to know she had a bit part. I was sitting next to her during an interactive part of the play, and she told me a strange story about a rug she bought for her sister that was sitting in her house unused. I left her side to go find my date though. I later had a second dream involving
vfc writing in her livejournal about starting to talk/flirt with this person that I knew was a pathological liar and realized the liar had taked information I had given him about Liza to construct this fake personality to become friends with her. I felt a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach because I was partially responsible for the fiasco and knew I needed to call Liza right away in the morning to warn her before anything bad happened. I didn't realize this was a dream until I'd already woken up and started telling Melanie about the Giles dream. In the back of my mind I was still thinking about the pathological liar problem and if I hadn't been paying close attention, I might have really made the phone call. In real-life, I need to call Liza about something less crucial, like hanging out and watching a movie or something.I know my obsession with The Sims will wane soon enough. I always become obsessed with something, expose myself to if 12 hours a day for a week, then I just integrate it normally into my everyday existence at a more reasonable level. But I can't help but think that this game feels different to me than my typical video game or movie or book obsession. It's tapping into a part of my brain I haven't used in a fifteen years or more. I find myself thinking about my Lego and Playmobil towns and even the Fisher-price 'little people' figures, or whatever they're called now. You know, those wooden cylindrical bodies with plastic round heads. I had a farm and a main street and some other smaller props. I also remember having figurines based on Sesame Street characters, including not only Ernie and Big Bird but also Maria, Susan, Bob, and Gordon.
With all of the miniature life re-creations, I would spend hours and hours creating elaborate plotlines and characters and dramas. I did this with GI Joe characters as well (who rarely went to all out war, there were usually just skirmishes and secret sabotage missions). I also liked doll houses, not because I really liked the dolls, but just because I like the tiny versions of houses and recreating daily processes. The best Barbie prop I ever saw was a McDonald's, that had tiny plastic hamburgers you could put together.
We don't 'play house' once we become adults and we live everyday in a bastardized version of the game. But playing it again with this game makes me realize it's still fun and still serves a purpose. If I can find self-worth in a tiny cartoon version of me (because even the characters who aren't me are still me -- it's like writing a novel), maybe then I'm more likely to motivate myself to take better care of myself.
