I'm feeling a surge in restless energy. The need to do something important and worthwhile rather than be where I am now. On the flip side, I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to a better world.
A lot of guild drama among the people I play with online. Sometime, I'm afraid of knowing too much about a person. Somehow, the more I know about them, the more silly I find them to be. Sometimes perhaps it's a case of cultural misinterpretation.
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Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Hope
It is good to dream. To continue to dream, is to live. The greater the dream, the less I dwell on the current dank darkness. It is an oasis in the slow days of ennui. And for a while you look at the little creature called hope, fed and nourished, and you have an urge to protect the fragile mewling at any costs.
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Monday, January 14, 2008
I'm a Wow Addict?
Was reading another guys WoW blog and he admitted to being a WoW addict. When I read the things that he does, I have to say that I was not much different... Does that make me an addict as well? Here's a run through of my usual weekly routine.
During workdays, I log on to the game and check my in-game auctions when I get home. After dinner, this is usually done at 8 or 9pm. My guild's raid group starts to form at 9pm. The raid will then proceed till 12 midnight, plus or minus 20 mins. Thereafter, I get ready for bed, wake up at 7:30am, go to work, come home and rinse, repeat. On tuesdays, the game server goes off for maintenance so I have some "me" time. More often than not, I waste it surfing, playing Might and Magic or perhaps occasionally doing something productive like studying.
Weekends, I spend most of my time in-game. Saturday morning is arena time with 2 or 4 other people. The rest of the day is spent either doing pvp (player vs player) or levelling my alts. At 9pm, raid starts again. Sunday, same deal except morning is spent on a 10-man dungeon, Kara (though this seems to have been called off. Most people probably don't need the stuff from there any more). I also spend one of the afternoons studying for my CFA course.
So, practically, 90% of my free time is spent on this one game. Am I addicted? I don't really think so. Johnny's in camp now, having his army reservist and I haven't been logging on for a while. I've been taking a couple of nights off from raiding here and there to take care of real life stuff for a change. I guess I conclude that I'm probably more addicted to playing together with Johnny than playing itself, though I did feel a sense of guilt for not helping my guild along.
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During workdays, I log on to the game and check my in-game auctions when I get home. After dinner, this is usually done at 8 or 9pm. My guild's raid group starts to form at 9pm. The raid will then proceed till 12 midnight, plus or minus 20 mins. Thereafter, I get ready for bed, wake up at 7:30am, go to work, come home and rinse, repeat. On tuesdays, the game server goes off for maintenance so I have some "me" time. More often than not, I waste it surfing, playing Might and Magic or perhaps occasionally doing something productive like studying.
Weekends, I spend most of my time in-game. Saturday morning is arena time with 2 or 4 other people. The rest of the day is spent either doing pvp (player vs player) or levelling my alts. At 9pm, raid starts again. Sunday, same deal except morning is spent on a 10-man dungeon, Kara (though this seems to have been called off. Most people probably don't need the stuff from there any more). I also spend one of the afternoons studying for my CFA course.
So, practically, 90% of my free time is spent on this one game. Am I addicted? I don't really think so. Johnny's in camp now, having his army reservist and I haven't been logging on for a while. I've been taking a couple of nights off from raiding here and there to take care of real life stuff for a change. I guess I conclude that I'm probably more addicted to playing together with Johnny than playing itself, though I did feel a sense of guilt for not helping my guild along.
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Friday, January 11, 2008
An Underloved Child
How fast it is, how fast... Ever since my company blocked internet access for non-work related websites, I haven't had the motivation to post. (yeah yeah, I admit they are just lame excuses really >.<) First things first, pictures of little Oreo :) 
It's a new year, and my introspection as it seems come at an appropriate time. I've not been posting on the blog as much as I would like to. I would walk on the street and thought of something I wanted to record and share with my dear friends who may read this, but when I get home to a terminal, the same inspiration eludes me like running water slithering through my fingers.
I'll start first by writing about the little baby boy, Oreo. He was a gift from my sister in law in an attempt to provide companionship to my parents-in-law. But in my mind, it was a mistake. They like him but they do not love him. Me, I love dogs. I've wanted one for my own all my life but with the amount of things going on, I wasn't ready to take on the full responsibility for him. I guess you could say I wasn't willing to make sacrifices. In the first two months, I was. But when I realized that it was a one-man-show I got a little disenchanted. I bathed him, I brought him for daily walks, I went to get his food, I learned to trained him, I brushed his hair, clipped his nails. It was a lot of work. And I was proud of him initially.
But then I realized that my training was jeopardized unknowing by his parents. They would teach him things I was trying to avoid -- jumping on people, giving him random treats without any form of training whatsoever, petting him when I abandoned him for bring naughty... things like that. At one point, I just gave up. It was too difficult. Little Oreo was getting difficult to handle. He would willfully ignore my commands. He jumps on me when I sit down to play with him. He chews on my clothing, with me in it. He still bites when he's unhappy and now that he is growing, they are no longer play bites. Dealing with him became a chore. I cannot cope with a recalcitrant child that I could not teach.
I was angry that they did not love him and that they were not ready for him but they chose to bring him home anyway. I wasn't ready for him either. Or at least I wasn't ready to be his sole custodian. I had a lot asking for my time. My exercise regime fell apart after Oreo arrived; my study plans were disrupted though I'm now more or less on track. I just wasn't ready for another being that would demand a lot of my time. I wasn't able to devote myself to this demanding, little bundle of cuteness. Perhaps it is a reflection of my lack of readiness for a child. I am frustrated in part because I do not understand his needs. He is such a sweet, loving puppy but he has learnt to express himself in the wrong way. I couldn't make myself unconditionally love him and I'm sometimes stricken with guilt that I do not care about him more.
I worry that as I've withdrawn my love from him, I will do the same to my own child. I reassure myself that little children at least understands the human language and at least a communication and understanding can be achieved. But is it not a sign of bad communication if I'm reliant on only words to reach that end? Will I really be a good mother? I've told myself before that if I couldn't be good at being a mother, I would rather not have kids. And now I'm honestly not sure. When we got married, I told Johnny that I knew I wasn't ready to have children in the next two years. We've since celebrated our first anniversary but I'm not sure if we are getting closer to that end. When I do, I'll be sure to read all the self-help books during my confinement period. >.<
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It's a new year, and my introspection as it seems come at an appropriate time. I've not been posting on the blog as much as I would like to. I would walk on the street and thought of something I wanted to record and share with my dear friends who may read this, but when I get home to a terminal, the same inspiration eludes me like running water slithering through my fingers.
I'll start first by writing about the little baby boy, Oreo. He was a gift from my sister in law in an attempt to provide companionship to my parents-in-law. But in my mind, it was a mistake. They like him but they do not love him. Me, I love dogs. I've wanted one for my own all my life but with the amount of things going on, I wasn't ready to take on the full responsibility for him. I guess you could say I wasn't willing to make sacrifices. In the first two months, I was. But when I realized that it was a one-man-show I got a little disenchanted. I bathed him, I brought him for daily walks, I went to get his food, I learned to trained him, I brushed his hair, clipped his nails. It was a lot of work. And I was proud of him initially.
But then I realized that my training was jeopardized unknowing by his parents. They would teach him things I was trying to avoid -- jumping on people, giving him random treats without any form of training whatsoever, petting him when I abandoned him for bring naughty... things like that. At one point, I just gave up. It was too difficult. Little Oreo was getting difficult to handle. He would willfully ignore my commands. He jumps on me when I sit down to play with him. He chews on my clothing, with me in it. He still bites when he's unhappy and now that he is growing, they are no longer play bites. Dealing with him became a chore. I cannot cope with a recalcitrant child that I could not teach.
I was angry that they did not love him and that they were not ready for him but they chose to bring him home anyway. I wasn't ready for him either. Or at least I wasn't ready to be his sole custodian. I had a lot asking for my time. My exercise regime fell apart after Oreo arrived; my study plans were disrupted though I'm now more or less on track. I just wasn't ready for another being that would demand a lot of my time. I wasn't able to devote myself to this demanding, little bundle of cuteness. Perhaps it is a reflection of my lack of readiness for a child. I am frustrated in part because I do not understand his needs. He is such a sweet, loving puppy but he has learnt to express himself in the wrong way. I couldn't make myself unconditionally love him and I'm sometimes stricken with guilt that I do not care about him more.
I worry that as I've withdrawn my love from him, I will do the same to my own child. I reassure myself that little children at least understands the human language and at least a communication and understanding can be achieved. But is it not a sign of bad communication if I'm reliant on only words to reach that end? Will I really be a good mother? I've told myself before that if I couldn't be good at being a mother, I would rather not have kids. And now I'm honestly not sure. When we got married, I told Johnny that I knew I wasn't ready to have children in the next two years. We've since celebrated our first anniversary but I'm not sure if we are getting closer to that end. When I do, I'll be sure to read all the self-help books during my confinement period. >.<
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