Monthly Archives: April 2012
I was playing Mass Effect multiplayer the other night when I had a revelation: most of the people I game with don’t know my real name.
This might not seem like such a big deal; after all, we all go by Twitter handles and gamertags; it’s just the way social networking functions.
The thing is, I consider some of them friends- not just gaming friends, but actual, “I share your problems and you share mine, let’s hold hands and sing Kumbaya” type friends.
You know, the kind of friends that should probably know my goddamn name. After all, I know theirs.
I’d never thought twice about it before. When I’m gaming, I’m simply “Bell”. I answer to it as naturally as I do to my actual name; I kind of prefer it. I like my given name, but the me that wears that name and goes out in public and talks to real people is really bad at socializing. She says the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time; she laughs too loud and takes jokes too far. There is no QA Tester picking those really inappropriate thoughts off the conveyance line between my brain and my mouth.
My best friend calls them “record-scratch” moments- and I’m the Queen of them.
That’s what I like about social networking- when everything is in text, it forces me to take that extra half second to consider whether what I’m about to send into the world really belongs out there. I cancel things before I send them out on a daily basis, simply because once I see them typed out I realize that what I meant isn’t what I said, and what I said makes me look like a total asshole.
“So what exactly is the point of this?” you may be wondering. “You were awkward, you got a keyboard, and now you’re awesome. Have a cookie.” (Thanks. I like cookies.)
The point of this is that now my online life is bleeding over into my real life. My Twitter friends are becoming my XBox friends, my Steam and Origin friends; I’m even planning on meeting some of them in person. I’m starting to actually talk to people instead of typing at them, and it’s kind of terrifying.
I wonder if people will be disappointed when they meet me in person, because I’ll either be too quiet or too loud; I worry that I can’t live up to the picture of myself I’ve painted online, even though the person I am online is more “me” than I usually am in real life.
I’m worried that I’ll accidentally breach some super secret code of Gaming Etiquette that I don’t know exists; that I’ll invite someone to play too many times and look like a creeper or ignore someone’s invitation so many times that I look like an asshole. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat staring at my friends list thinking, “Well, I could invite that person to play, but what if they think I’m weird, or what if it’s super awkward and we don’t have anything to talk about but then we’re stuck and the only way I can get out of it is to pretend to go to bed but then I can’t tweet or play games for the rest of the night because I don’t want them to think I ditched them? At that point I might as well actually go to bed. I’m not tired. Fuck.”
I end up not inviting people to play because I don’t want to go to bed. True story.
I kind of view my social skills the same way I do milk that’s been left out for three hours. I know it’s probably going to be okay, but if it’s not okay, it’s going to be REALLY not okay. I might not only embarrass myself; it’s entirely possible that I’ll actually hurt or offend someone without ever meaning to. Looking ridiculous doesn’t really bother me, but the possibility of actually hurting someone because I wasn’t thinking… I’m not okay with that.
I am getting braver, and so far my experiences have been mostly positive. (Although the awkward situations have been damn awkward.)
However, if anyone has a copy of Miss Manner’s Guide to Online Gaming, I’d love to borrow it- and if we play together, don’t be surprised if at first I’m quieter than you expected. It’ll pass, I promise.
Writing is hard. That’s why I’m starting a new blog.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” you’re saying. (If you didn’t say that, say it now so that I’m not a gigantic liar. Thanks.)
See, writing is hard. Expressing ideas, turning feelings into phrases that make other people understand where I’m coming from, then editing those phrases into something that doesn’t look like it was put together by a crackhead monkey is hard.
Babbling about whatever happens to be on my mind with no intention of editing it? Super easy.
For instance: I don’t actually want to see David Tennant naked. That’s not really related to anything, it just crossed my mind and I thought I should share it. I mean, I think he’s incredibly sexy, but in my mind his pants are kind of permanently attached to his body.
I have headcanon about David Tennant’s pants. That can’t be normal.
ANYWAY. New blog.
I’ve been wanting a place to talk about things that aren’t related to video games and popular culture. I love that stuff, but I have an entire life that doesn’t have a UI, a life in which bizarre shit happens on a regular basis. It’s awesome. Like, really, seriously, how fucking lucky am I that this weird shit happens to me all the time? But, even though that stuff is awesome as hell, it doesn’t really have a place on a SRS GAMING BLOG. (Because that’s what Razorblade Sammich is. SRS BSNS. No, really. REALLY.)
So. Here’s where the other stuff is going. Things about my family and my kids and the things I read and the things that I write that aren’t vidya. Maybe naked pictures of men that aren’t David Tennant. Maybe pictures of David Tennant’s pants. IT COULD GET CRAZY.
I’m not abandoning Razorblade Sammich; in fact, I suspect I’ll be crossposting on a regular basis. I’m hoping that having a place to purge all the other stuff will inspire productivity at R.S. and when I write The Fiction. (It probably won’t.)
One last thing: I have NO IDEA why “Razorblade Bellhop”… but it’s kind of awesome, right?
(I google searched “David Tennant’s pants”, thinking I could toss in some pantsporn for you guys, and you know what I got? A picture of David Tennant not wearing pants. The internet is just one gigantic troll.)
I was paging through posts on my now defunct personal blog and ran across an entry that made me do that snorty- laughy thing. I wrote this in 2006, the year I participated in my first NaNoWriMo.
2006 was also the year I learned I am not cut out to be a romance novelist.
Things I Have Learned Just By Reading The First Two Chapters of My Nano
2) My main character has three arms. She must, to be able to fiddle with her fan, gesture with her hands, and wipe her palms on her skirt, all while holding a half- full punch cup.
3) Ah, THAT’S my main character’s last name! I’ve been wondering.
4) My characters don’t wear shoes. It’s easier to get naked without them, so they just don’t wear them. They did not consult me about this decision; I find it terribly impractical.
5) “aching slit”? what, did she cut herself and he’s trying to kiss it all better? Geesh.
6) Twenty seconds of foreplay and then straight to the thrusting of rigid manlinesses? I didn’t realize I was writing an autobiography.
7) Nevermind. Twenty seconds is still twenty seconds.