Friday, March 24, 2017

Things I need, things I want

I need more socks and replacement shoes.  I need oil.  I need food.

These four things represent different ways of going about things.

~ ~ ~

Socks can come from anywhere.  I tend to go to some godless chain store that is destroying all good things in the universe, like say a Walmart, and just buy a package with a lot of cheap socks.  On the other hand, when someone gave me a gift certificate to Sock Dreams it meant that I got some fucking fantastic socks with quality I'd never set out to get myself.

So, yeah, wide range of socks.

Wide range of ways people can help with them.

~ ~ ~

For shoes definitely need them a lot (the sole is coming off of my right shoe in a way that could knock me to the ground in a way I can't really afford) but at the same time, I'd like to get good shoes.  Now the good shoes that I used to have, and really liked, are out of production.  I dug them up (I knew I'd never gotten around to disposing of them) and double checked that.

They haven't been replaced with a new model, they're flat out gone.

I think this is as close as I can come.  Men's because the women's ones are offered in crap colors.  Of course this requires me to learn my shoe size again.  The super old shoe I dug up from the era when I had good shoes is a 10 1/2 wide (also men's), but I honestly have no idea if that was the right size or more like "Close enough".

It's also the sort of thing I'd probably never buy for myself because there are other places where the $99 might reasonably go.  At the moment I'm primarily focusing on paying down high interest debt, for example.

I'll probably end up buying cheap shoes when someone is able to take me to a place that has them.

Of course, money grubbing person that I am, I'll point out that it's possible to get me an LL Bean gift card (apparently it'd get sent straight to my email cpw [at] maine [dot] rr [dot] com.)  It's interesting to me that they say "never expires" like that matters.  This is Maine (they're based in Freeport) and it's illegal to have a gift card expire here.  Unless the company goes bankrupt, the gift card will be good.

~ ~ ~

Oil I've already ordered, I should get a price quote within the next 24 hours.  I expect it to be around $300-ish.  Only way to help me with that is a donation.

~ ~ ~

Food is . . . complicated.  Even as I get more and more able to do things, food preparation is still not on the list.  So I've been ordering things delivered.

That's simple and straight-forward enough, I need money just like with the oil.  (Also expensive as all fuck.)

Where it gets complicated is that I don't know what delivers around her, general internet services to hook you up with delivery places don't know much of anywhere either, and . . . yeah.

Anyone know the delivery scene in the greater Portland area in Maine?

* * *

I want various impossible things, like to be able to go back on my hormones now as opposed to waiting until it's safe (because this demi-depressed state fucking sucks.)

But on the possible side of things, I mostly want interactive fiction.  I want to go to other worlds and do other things and make noticeable progress toward clear goals.  I want a vacation from the real because it's kind of sucking.  Hell, it sucked before I broke my ankle.

I want Kingdom Hearts with the two items on the PS4 wishlist representing nine-ish games of content between them (only six playable) and the three on the list for the 3DS (which I theoretically will have) representing the playable versions of the two unplayable games, and one that had different gameplay mechanics after the system switch.  (Thing nine is an original, as in never a game, cinematic thing delivered in the same way as the two non-playable games.)

I want Breath of the Wild, and to a lesser extent Dishonored 2 which is on the same list and apparently on sale.

I want to be able to immerse myself in other places, other times, other worlds, other people, other everything, because I'm stuck one room most of the time with little that I can do.

I do have non-interactive fiction potential getaways too.  There's a reason that Deep Red is the top movie on this list that I'd forgotten existed until Ana asked me if I could put useful stuff on a wishlist.  That reason is that it's been far too long, I barely remember the movie, and I decided to try to sort the damned list.  Is the list sorted?  Only the stuff that comes above the puzzles.

Get beyond that and there's a lot of "Whut?" and fair amount of, "Ok, I'll grant that this seemed like a good idea at the time, but HOW did it seem like a good idea at the time?"  And also no hierarchy whatsoever.

Thursday, March 23, 2017


I've been out of state.

That might not seems like the best thing to do, but it meant spending time living with other people.  (Broken ankle is much easier to manage when someone can carry stuff from one room to another and actually make food.)  It was also part of a plan (or was it a plot?) to inject something up into this broken ankle time.

See, there was a concert.

Apparently once something has happened all record of it ceases to exist, so I can't link to anything, but it was Dar Williams at the Cabot Theater in Beverley, Mass.

That was one day after I made the journey from home to Massachusetts, and five days after the concert, which was yesterday, it was time to come home.

This is, as you might imagine, a bit of a process.

~ ~ ~

I didn't have to worry about losing my hat on the way home as I'd lost it on the way over.  There was the obligatory forgetting of important things (the two external hard drives on which my computer had been backed up) and all of the usual stuff.

But the thing is . . . I'm fatter and weaker than I used to be, somehow my backpack seemed to weigh as much as a twelve year old, and the T is . . . the T.

Thus I started off absurdly early in hopes of maybe catching my bus.

~ ~ ~

Oak Grove does at least have elevators.  The elevator doors have a habit of only opening half way when they're supposed to open, and getting open the rest of the way sometime in the following week.  This is fucked up, and while it doesn't inconvenience me I have seen it, and could have figured out without the seeing of it, be really fucking unhelpful to a person in a wheelchair.

Also, I spent a good deal of time wishing for a wheelchair.

Anyway, I crutched from drop off to elevator, then from elevator to bench.  Then I rested.  If I were walking this would be absurd.

After a while I made my way to the place where you pay, I'd actually acted like an intelligent person and taken the Charlie Card (an RFID card that you put money on electronically so that you can use the Boston T by holding said card up to a reader which is a lot faster than other means of payment) out before getting off the bench.

Another elevator, much exertion to get to the damned train.  Normally I go to the far end, because that's where my exit is.  I barely made it to the near end in time to catch what was, I think, the second train to leave since I was dropped off.

Also, it was fucking cold, and something about the combination of crutches and my backpack kept making my shirt ride up.

I usually describe the behavior of the Orange Line as it goes outbound.  Inbound is . . . well, stuff.

At Oak Grove, which is the end of the line, it's a ground train.  Next stop is Malden Center.  For that it's a full blown L (elevated) train.  Then it goes back to the ground, crosses the water, comes into the place with the giant Lego Giraffe (actually Duplo, but Duplo is a Lego brand), and really starts to flirt with the idea of being an L again, but comes back down to earth for the stops themselves.

A while later it's underground and we have achieved subway.

Downtown Crossing is my stop.  Downtown Crossing has no elevators.  Downtown Crossing has a sign saying that elevators will be installed.  I was told that they said it would take seven months.  This was said a year ago.

But before we even get to the lack of elevators, remember that I'm on the wrong end of the train.

I think I have to stop and rest two times just to walk from one end of the platform to the other.

When I get to the stairs down to the Red Line I take a third rest.  I am, by now, drenched in sweat.

For most of the way there's a sturdy railing, this is good because going down stairs on crutches sucks.  I'm very slow and get in various peoples ways.

At the end of the stairs, though, something changes.  For the last few steps.  Just three or four of them between a landing and platform level, the railing ceases to be a good railing because it's no longer bolted to the fucking wall.

Thus I have to sit on my ass and slowly butt slide down the final stairs.  There's no one there right then, so I have a sort of mini-break.

It's not enough.  I don't even make it down the hall, drop to my knees at a hall intersection, the intersection makes it wider, so I hope that I won't be too much in the way.

Multiple trains let off people going between the Red Line and Orange Line.  Several of the people wonder if I need help, if I'm dying, if they should call emergency services on my behalf, and so forth.

I eventually reach the Red Line just as a train leaves.

I don't remember if I got there in one trip or not.  It seems unlikely, but I don't remember stopping.

Anyway, I got to the good place to get on the train.

I was only on for one stop, but damn was it nice to be able to sit.  (I'd also been not-up while waiting for the train to come.)

~ ~ ~

Once I got off at South Station I walked to the wall opposite the tracks and collapsed.

I didn't quite stay there until the next train came, but it was close.

I remembered that south station did have elevators and actually used it to get to T-Loby level.

The elevator to ground level, however, is out of service.  Ish.

Now I was drenched in sweat before I even got on the train that brought me here, so as one might imagine I'm not exactly trying to add heat to myself.  My coat is sort of tied around my waist (the sleeves aren't quite long enough to make a decent knot) and definitely not keeping me warm.

Thus we come to the "ish".

I was fully willing to take the escalator.  The up escalator was shut down.  Not just shut down.  The only reason I remembered that South Station has elevators in the first place is because the up escalator from the platform was also shut down.  This one, however, is shut down and blocked off as if it is the scene of a nuclear waste spill.

So, the "ish".  There is an elevator to ground level.  It just isn't inside the station.  It lets you out outside of the building, and then you have to go through the death-cold to get back inside South Station.

Finding the elevator required enough energy that I had to drop to the ground and rest before using it.

Getting from the elevator back into the building required another period of rest.

It's a bit hazy until I sat at one of the tables and took off my bag for rest where I was sitting on an actual chair.

There were clocks.  I had time.  Seriously.  There was over an hour until my bus left.

And I was really fucking thirsty, and (having recovered from the outside's death cold) back to overheating.

When I was sufficiently rested I went over to the place next to the pink berry and got a strawberry banana smoothy, put as much weight on the counter as I could to take it off of my right leg which was, remember, doing all of the work.  Work that's more than normal. even before you take the fact that one leg is doing all of it into account, because you don't walk with crutches, you vault.

Smoothy comes and we have the difficult and strange hopping of someone who's only using one crutch, well using both crutches as if they're a single crutch, because they need a hand free to carry a smoothy.

I'm kind of surprised I actually made it back to the table and chair place.

Some brain freeze troubles, but otherwise the smoothy was very good and something that I needed.

The moment I decide to get up and go to the bus terminal, boarding is announced on track one.

South Station is in three sections.  Below ground, and at the front, is the T.  Red Line and Silver Line.  Above ground, and in the front to front-middle, is the waiting area of the long distance trains.  This is full of food places and . . . um, stuff.

Occupying the entire rest of the middle (which is definitely the biggest section) is an outdoor area where the long distance trains board.

At the back is the second building that makes up South Station: the bus terminal.

So to get from where I was to where I was going I had to go outside, for a fair distance, and here's the annoying part: there is no dedicated way to get from front South Station to back South Station.  Instead you walk down the boarding platform for track one.

If timing is right, that's not too much of a problem, but if you happen to have the misfortune of moving from one end to the other when track one is boarding . . . it's a hassle even when you can walk.

So I waited longer than planned, and even so I got in people's way because I was slow, and I had to take breaks (did I mention that the temperature was death-cold?), and more people enquired as to my well being or lack thereof.

Once I got inside the bus terminal the first thing I did was take another break.  The windows have sills that are perfect for sitting on.

The elevator here did work, so that's what I did once I could.

That only gets you one floor, though, and you need to to go two.

Nice stone bench for a break in between the two elevators.

Up the next one, still haven't missed my bus, go to where the buses are, have a sort of mini standing-break at the entrance, and then get to where my bus is in, I think, one push.  And promptly collapse because that's overdoing it.  I was in fact trying to begin the process of getting to the ground to sit.  But no one who saw could have mistaken what happened for intentional.

It was, however, a clean landing on hands and knees.

I should probably mention something about my right hand at this point though.  Before the concert I slipped on black ice (it hurts pedestrians too) in a Subway (sandwich place) parking lot.  Landed on my hands.  The thumb section of my right palm didn't like this, but it wasn't a big deal.

All of this crutching around, though, put a a lot of pressure on my hands, including the thumb section of my right palm.

It was a very unhappy hand, is the point.

~ ~ ~

The bus ride home was largely uneventful, though Amazon did want me to know that I was running out of time to pre-order Kingdom Hearts HD 1.5 + 2.5 ReMIX (top of the wishlist) which . . . why would you remind someone of something like that?  Oh my god, come the 28th you'll be able to order-order it instead of pre-order it.  Woe is everyone if that should come to pass, buy now so you won't have to order-order!

And this is a source of minor annoyance because I thought that it came out February 28th when I put it on the wishlist.  Though, I would have put it there anyway.  I've always wanted to play Kingdom Hearts and that represents the the first six games worth of content.

I feel like there might have been other things of note on the bus, but none come to mind.

~ ~ ~

I was picked up by my dad.  From him I learned that there may be an animal in the house (beyond mice and such) that wasn't invited (but it could just as plausibly have been his eyes playing tricks on him) and that I had no oil.

As it would turn out, I did have oil.  But the house had been without heat for days.  It was cold.

When I made it down stairs (not an easy task) I discovered that the water was too low for the furnace to run, and the oil gauge was on empty.  I put in enough water, toggled the power on and off, and the thing started running.  The gauge has always been an approximation.

Of course at this point the house was really cold, I had no idea how much oil there was (no idea if it could heat the house or would burn through in a minute or two),  and . . . stuff.  I brought up an electric blanket and a blanket so heavy I haven't needed it since I've been forced by ankle to sleep up stairs, reheated my numb feet with a heating pad while the two blankets worked together to create a warm cocoon.

~ ~ ~

And that was my homecoming.

I think.

Other Stories, a Harry Potter Snippet

[Originally posted at Ana Mardoll's Ramblings.]

[...] on the Harry Potter thing, if these things are being left to one group, it kind of implies that there are other things being done by other groups because it doesn't make sense for one grade to have all of the, "I must break the rules to do good things," people.

Something like:

* * *

Senior Ravenclaw: We're being watched.
Senior Slytherin: What? Wher-- Oh.
Senior Hufflepuff: We know you're there first years.
Senior Ravenclaw: It's really going to be easier if you just show yourselves.

*Harry, Ron and Hermoine come out from under the invisiblity cloak*

Senior Gryffindor: Please tell me the three of you aren't doing something stupid again.
Senior Slytherin: [to senior Gryff] That's no way to say, "Hello." [to heroes] What are you three doing out here?

Hermoine: We're going to the forbidden hallway to stop the Philosopher's Stone from being stolen. We think the thief might be trying to revive the dark lord.

Senior Ravenclaw: That's nice.
Senior Hufflepuff: Good luck with that.
Senior Slytherin: We're going to the secondary storage area to stop a love potion production operation.
Senior Ravenclaw: The tangled and twisted magic around the school makes it ideal for hiding illicit operations.
Senior Slytherin: If we weren't busy, we'd help you out with your dark lord problem.

Ron: (outraged) You think love potions are more important than-!-

Senior Ravenclaw: Even if the dark lord is resurrected it'll take time to rebuild his power base and become a threat.
Senior Hufflepuff: Time during which opposition to him can be built back up.
Senior Ravenclaw: The love potions are a problem right now.
Senior Slytherin: They ship at daybreak, every day, so if we waited another night after learning where they were operating we'd be insuring there are more victims.
Senior Gryffindor: That's not an option.

Harry: But we're talking about--
Hermoine: Actually, I'm with them on this. Love potions are evil.

*two groups start to go separate ways*

Senior Slytherin: Good luck, see you all at the final feast.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017


I can move water from the bedroom to the kitchen and back because of conveniently placed counters, chairs, tables, and other such things.  Set it down.  Crutch to midpoint.  Pick it up, move it in front of me, set it down, we're back at the beginning.

I can't move a cup of water from the kitchen to the living room unless I'm willing to forget about standing and crutches, and drop to my knees or crawl.

I can't cook.  I can't clean.  I can't ... I can't ... I can't.

I fucking can't.

I can't wash my clothes.  I can shower, but only just.

I had to have a child carry my laptop into this room because I can't.

I've been feeling so god damned useless and helpless, but it's necessary to heal and all that.

And I was at least succeeding in taking care of my injury.


I don't remember what I was getting up to do.  The pain erased any sense of that.  Maybe I didn't even know at the time.  It could have been an impulsive thing.

I got up and took two steps.  One step is fine.  Step, put weight on something else, step, and so forth is how one moves in this condition.

Two steps is very, very bad.

If I'm wearing the air cast, I can put less than half my weight on my left foot.

A second step means I put all of my fucking weight on my left foot. (I wasn't wearing the air cast.)

It's been over half an hour.  Pain still lingers.

I only had one thing to do.  Just take care of the injury.

I just fucked that up.

And it hurts.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Ash: Questions

This is basically the climax of the story, don't read if you don't want it spoiled.
[Totally not a final version, will probably be completely reworked.]
[Context: First installment of Ash is here.  There was a school dance where the theme was a masquerade, some of the students getting into it enough that their identities were well and truly concealed.  At her sister's prompting, Ash, a closeted trans girl, went as a girl and not the boy she presents as.  Ash ended up losing her good luck charm (her deceased mother's MP3 player) and this scene is after Ash has convinced Zee, the girl she was dancing with, that it really is her MP3 player.]

- - -

"The dance was . . . magical; it was like a fantasy," Ash said. "But that's over, everything has collapsed back into reality.  Your mystery girl was just a dream; I'm all that's left.  Sorry.  I know it sucks.

"Now can I please have my mother's MP3 player back."

"I have questions," Zee said.

"You're going to hold the MP3 player hostage--" Ash didn't get a chance to finish.

"No!" Zee said as she shoved the MP3 player into Ash's hand.  "Of course not.  Take it."

Ash brought the MP3 player to her chest and said said, "mom" so softly she wasn't sure it was out loud.  The one connection to the only parent that might have loved her was back.  It was with her again.

Ash's attention returned to Zee and found her in the middle of a sentence.  ". . . still have questions but I'd never force you to do anything.  I'd like to think you know me better than that."

"Lot of stress," Ash mumbled.  "Ask and get it over with."

"At the dance, were you trying to trick--"

"You asked me to dance."

"I felt like I knew you," Zee said.

"You did."

"Apparently not as well as I thought."

"That's nice."

"Do you like me?"

"Thought that was what friendship was about."

"Don't make me go contrastive focus reduplication on you."

"We covered this already," Ash said, anger flaring for no comprehensible reason.  "Yes, I do, and for a while I got to pretend there was a chance of something coming from it.  But pretend time ended, so what does it matter?"

"It matters," Zee said as inched closer.  "Next question, are you a boy or a girl?"


"So we've ruled out non-binary options," Zee said.  Ash was mildly surprised she knew such things existed, and barely noticed that Zee inched forward again.  "Are you a girl?"

Zee had most definitely invaded Ash's personal space.  They were so close now, and she was looking right in Ash's eyes.

Ash knew the smart thing would be to lie.  Instead she admitted, "Yes," in a way that sounded as defeated as she felt.  Her only friend would reject her now.  Things could get bad going forward.

"Last question," Zee said, "will you go out with me?"

The "What?" was produced without any real thought on Ash's part.

"You know, a date.  We go somewhere together and do something and if we're lucky there might be kissing involved."

"But you're . . ."

"And you're a girl," Zee said.  "We covered that."

Ash's first thought was shot down and became flaming wreckage in her mind.  Zee wouldn't try to trick her.  But it was still impossible to believe.  "You're serious?"

"Of course I am," Zee said.  "Just come as the real you, no pretending to be a boy."

"Pretending to be a boy is safe."

"Then we can be careful," Zee said.  "Go out of the way to avoid people we know, stick to less well lit places, stuff like that.

"What kinds of movies do you like?" Zee asked.

"Fun, explosions, hope," Ash said.

Zee seemed to think that over for a bit and then said, "There's nothing good in theaters right now, but I've got Fury Road on disk and a big screen TV."

"LED or LCD?"


"And you wonder why everyone thinks of you as some rich kid."

"I don't wonder about it," Zee said, "I just wish they didn't think it was my defining quality"

The conversation lagged.

"You know, you haven't actually answered me yet." Zee said.

Ash closed the small distance between them, hugged Zee, and said, "Yes.  So very much yes."

- - -

Or something like that, not satisfied with it.

Imported Comment: Weapon Durrability mechanics, and inability to pick up weaponizable things, in Zombie games

[Originally posted as a comment at Ana Mardolls.]

Random pet peeve:

It makes a certain amount of sense that fighting zombies with a stick would eventually break the stick. The number of hits you get out of a cast iron pipe, on the other hand, is positively absurd. Unless the zombies are made of stronger stuff and you're hitting with more force than a human being can muster.

The absurdity is raised to ludicrousness when a metal ax breaks in like five hits. We're talking about something that is designed to be smashed into solid wood enough times to cut down many trees, often for years on end, before a wood handle would break, and this one has a stronger handle than that. Yet five hits to something significantly softer than wood and it's kaput.

[Added] I meant to mention the machette too. I stab people with it, meaning it's under minimal stress as it's encountering only soft tissue that it easily moves through. Four stabs and it breaks for no apparent reason. [/added]

I understand that weapon degradation is gameplay mechanic, just like slapping an alcohol disinfected bandage wouldn't really cure you from being repeatedly shot, but the thing is that instant-absurd-heal medkits are there to make the game possible. Otherwise you'd be dead before you reached the plot. We let it fly because they help us, as players, actually play the game.

The sturdy looking ax that's apparently made out of aluminum foil is not a necessary break from realism. The game would be just as possible if the only weapons that broke are ones that realistically would, and, in fact, we know that the game takes place in a world where weapons can be more durable than reality given the magical jam-proof guns that would, realistically, break down way faster than a cast iron pipe.

But I haven't even reached the height of pet-peeve yet. If I'm playing a game where I have to replace my melee weapons every two seconds because they're composed of paper mache, don't fucking send me to a place with pool cues that I can't pick up. Those things aren't very durable at all*, but they'd do better work than my cast iron pipe that was somehow imported from a Wile E Coyote cartoon where it had been manufactured by Acme and even if they didn't, they'd at least be multiple "breathe on it and it disintegrates" weapons that I could use on the clickers.

And this isn't even getting into the fact that while I can throw bottles and bricks, two things whose shape demonstrates they were never intended to be thrown, but I can't pick up the pool balls which are shaped exactly how we design things that are meant to be thrown.

First zombie game I make, the main character's primary ranged weapon is going to be a sling that's sized for pool balls.

When the conquistadors came the natives had them matched in firepower partially because the guns at the time sucked, but equally because their sling stones (actually made of clay) were manufactured to all be the same weight and shape allowing for much more control than using found objects. That's why the deciding factor was swords. (Wooden swords with obsidian blades are absolutely devastating to a person they're used on, but they can't survive a hit from a metal sword.)

Long range, the character will have to use a gun, but mid range the pool ball sling should be highly effective, no have a limited ammo problem because of ball retrieval, and have refills to replace lost balls pretty much anywhere in America that someone didn't have the same idea.

But this is beside the point, which is this:

If I'm fighting with found sticks, don't show me piles of found sticks that I can't pick up for fighting purposes.



* The typical pool cue is made of hardrock maple.  Way stronger than the sticks the game does let you fight with, but not nearly so strong as a cast iron pipe.

Communal cues are usually one piece affairs making them slightly longer than a Japanese  jō, I'm told the Chinese weapon that's mostly equivalent is called a bang, but I can only find one source so I'm not entirely convinced.  I have difficulty believing that there isn't a western weapon made out of about that length of wood, but I can't find one.

Two part cues would be even more durable.  Simply put, the longer something is, the easier it is to break.  Separating the cue would also lend itself to an interesting fighting style.  The butt end of a cue would essentially become a club, while the striking end would be able to be used as a lighter faster weapon.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Time for another update

As of yesterday I have a foot again.  I've got an air-cast, but I can take my foot out of it, have a look, verify that it exists, and even take a shower.  In theory on that last point.  I'll need to look around for a good waterproof thing to rest a knee on while in the shower.  What I did yesterday wasn't really a shower, but it did make me the cleanest I've been in ages.  (I fail sponge bathing forever.  Apparently that's not uncommon.)

Here's the bad news: It's going to be at least four weeks before I can return to my hormones.  That's also when they said I'd be able to walk again if things went well.  I suspect the two are related.

So that will leave me in this pseudo-depressed state for a while yet to come.

Other good news, the bills I was stressed about: not going to be a problem.  In fact I should be able to make significant progress on paying down my debt and cover those bills.

I lost another hat,  not sure if it was on the bus or the T.  I left one of my shoes in a different state (not lost, there was just complexity and confusion).  I had been hoping to wear it rather than the air cast when lightness was more beneficial than rigidity.

Sticking with shoes, I'm going to need new ones.  A couple of times on the journey my right sole tried to tear itself off of my shoe.


My foot still needs elevation, but I'll be returning to the fictional worlds of a more upright nature as well.  It's why I removed Dishonored II from the PS4 list and stuck the PC version on a new list that also has Breath of the Wild* because being able to be upright means both using PC games and that my Wii-U is no longer a non-entity.  Right now my only game for the Wii-U it is Splatoon.


I don 't know what to say if someone wants to help.  Donations will always help until I'm totally out of debt, but right now I'm not in immediate need.

The really nice thing about the wishlists, and before that when I got a gift certificate for socks, is that it's about luxuries I'd never get myself.  If one looks at, which the gift certificate was for, those are better socks than I'd ever buy myself with my money.  I've wanted playstation only games since before anyone was even thinking about the eventual possibility of a PS4, but I'd never have bought myself a playstation console, and the games themselves are more expensive than I'd allow myself to pay even though I really do want to play Kingdom Hearts, for example.

That's the fun thing, about non-monetary gifts I guess.  If you give me money then I'll spend it on something I can justify to myself a reasonable expenditure.  If you get me something then it might be better than I'd ever get myself.  Thus the possibility of Breath of the Wild, or Kingdom Hearts, or a 3DS.


I do kind of wish I had some good way to have help buying shoes.  Ideally I tend to want durrable things that are somewhere between hiking shoes and hiking boots.  They're good shoes for all occasions.  How someone could help on that count I know not.


* A couple of people on the greater Slacktiverse have played Breath of the Wild and It sounds like the kind of game I've long wanted and would love.  Also I think there's some rule about needing to play Zelda at some point in your life, and I never have (stuck a couple other Zelda things on the new list.)