I know what I don’t want.  I don’t want it to be a compelling human drama and then suddenly turn into something completely ridiculous that I cared nothing for, but ended up having to finish simply because I had come too far not to.  Indigo Prophecy’s story had a lot of potential about a man committing a murder but being completely innocent at the same time.

But then it became something else entirely.  I would have been okay with it slowly turning into something with magical realism.  But it turned into this blathering seething mass of a story that didn’t seem to know what it was about.  It was as if they ran out of story budget and then everyone turned into orange goo.

I know only snippets about Heavy Rain’s storyline, little bits and pieces that I’ve gleaned from here and there.  There are four characters.  One of them is a special agent of some sort with super crime fighting sunglasses.  That’s about all I know so far, and I’m okay with that.  I really want to know more, but I want to experience it.  I want that wonder and awe I felt from playing the first half of Indigo Prophecy.

I just hope that it lives up to that promise.

She told me, “I love you,” but I felt there was a “no matter what happens,” after it.

So.  Emo.  And that’s in 1995.

I’ve always preferred the cold to the heat.  I appreciate a lot of lower temperatures, from the moist cloying cold of an ocean sunset, to the dry bitter chill of a winter wind.  I’ve never enjoyed the heat in any form.

Which is really surprising from a nature versus nurture point of view because my heritage is mostly from a tropical island nation.

I also have a box, filled with not empty notebooks.

June 5, 1997

Usually, about the most exciting thing that happens to me is the drive to the Metro station.  Why?  Well, it’s usually because I can smell the beer on my boss’s breath.

Man.  That is a great entry.  Also, this one:

(9/22/90)  Ooops!  Missed a day.  Fortunately nothing much happened yesterday.  Except that Phil, Arcelio, and Josh are thinking about going to Homecoming together and they invited me.  Unfortunately, I don’t have anyone to ask.  Oh, well that’s about it.  I don’t think much is going to happen today.

Riveting. And I have pages of this writing goldmine all at my fingertips.

I like the way that they days are transitioning.  How the great white swatches of snow have become these grey monstrosities on the sides of roads.  I like to think that in the future, you’ll be able to recreate the entire Washington DC landscape just from the pictures people took during the Blizzard of 2010.

I have also purchased some light stands for my strobes.  I’ll need them eventually for some of the portrait work that I want to start doing.  I’m working more with flash and manual settings.  Trying out different styles of lighting to see what works and what doesn’t.  The camera has glitched once during this period, which resulted in two glitch photos and about three irrecoverable files that just didn’t write correctly.  I’ll have to pick up another card to see if it is really card related, but it seems to have happened on both of the cards that I swap every other day.

It’s the third piece of downloadable content for this game and I really want them to make more.  The game is just fun.  At least it is for me.  I’m trying to figure out what makes it work for me, what magic combination of RPG Leveling lite with First Person Shooter and offbeat humor that has enthralled me for this long.

Full Disclosure:  I’ve bought the game twice, on two different platforms so I could play with two different groups of people.

You stop, open your mouth, stick your tongue out, and catch a snowflake.

Always.

At the engagement party.   The night you celebrated your new job.  The day you had two bottles of sake with your coworkers at lunch then went back to work and no one noticed.  The day everyone was snowed in and they were the only restaurant open.

It’s just that tonight, tonight as you are washing your hands you notice that there is a new sign taped to the stall.  The paper is white, taped up with cello tape.  The letters are large and red, and simply read, “OUT OF ORDER.”

But this time you really look at the door.  The metal lock has been mangled shut and the space between the door and the wall has been taped over with black duct tape.  There are plywood panels that extend from the bottom of the stall to the floor.  There is a similar treatment from the top of the stall to the ceiling.  You think nothing of it until you notice something.

The bolts holding the plywood in place were screwed in from the inside.

• Matrix “Burly Brawl” style fight where I take on dozens and dozens of balloon people.
• High school anti drug church function featuring skateboarding and a Silent Hill themed bathroom.
• Very fast party boat that turned into an inflatable mattress that dropped me off at a swanky lake house.
• Drawing artwork on a whiteboard.
• Getting caught stealing from a coke machine, but Dwight from the Office was blamed immediately, even though my arm was stuck in the machine.  Doubly funny because I’ve never watched The Office.
• Sparring with someone and watching them die of exhaustion.
• I was buying photography equipment.  Oh, wait.
• I was so fantastically wealthy I was tipping people with large carat diamonds.
• Work relocated all of us to a disused prison and our cubicles were in cells.  Still trying to figure that one out.
• Rescuing someone from a pelican, in between eating chicken tenders, while wearing no pants.

I pass by walks unshoveled, crosswalks blocked, tree branches broken, and cars buried.  I tread carefully on still buried sidewalks, detour around mountains of ice my height, and wear heavier jackets.

Most of all, I await the arrival of spring and its longer, warmer days.  I listen to the trickle of water into the storm drains and I think that maybe, fluid ounce by fluid ounce, this ugly crystalline inconvenience can finally be over.