My uncle died recently. He spent his last days here in our house. He said that God spared him for a purpose (he'd suffered massive liver and kidney failure), and if there is any merit to that, I think it was just so that he could die surrounded by those that love him, so that his suffering could be eased.

I don't want to go into who my uncle was to me or any of that. That's not really the focus of this post. Just a bit'o'backstory.

My aunt, my mom's sister is here, and my 'aunt', my uncle's wife is here, not that I really care about her at all. *restrains self from hateful rant*

So my mom's sister, her name is Melissa (Missy), handed off a bag to my mom. It was a bag of some of Chris's (my uncle's) ashes. Seeing the ashes of the dead always weirds me out. To know I once knew that fine dust as the human it used to be, and to know it's the same thing. It's really odd. Mom and Missy were discussing what to do with the ashes. They'd been split up into three parts. One for the urn, and two for Mom and Missy to sprinkle or do whatever they wanted. My mom said, "When I sprinkle mine, I want to do it over Daddy's grave."

The phrase struck me. Daddy. My mom, a woman of fifty, calling he father 'Daddy'. Missy called him that, too.

I only had one grandpa growing up, on my dad's side, his father. Mom's dad died when she was young, but had a slew of step-fathers as her mom continued to remarry over and over. My mom hardly ever speaks of her real dad, but when she does, its with a lot more tenderness than she uses when talking about any of her other step-fathers. I guess it isn't hard to understand that. I don't know a lot about my other grandpa. I wonder sometimes what he would think of me if he knew me. I know he was in a war. There's a picture of him in this collage of family photos that hangs in the hallway. He's standing in a Superman pose, his face squinched because of the sun, so in a way I don't reeeally know what he looks like.

Funny thing about me and my uncle. I was going through photos once when I came across a picture of me standing next to this old lady in a red shirt whom I did not recognize for the life of me. I asked my mom where we were when that picture was taken and who the woman was. My mom said to me, "Jamie, that's your uncle." I gawked. It is really weird. Every picture of young Chris looks exactly like me. *laughs* If things stay the same, I should remain the handsome devil I am, hm?

Anyway, it just struck me to hear my mom refer to her father in such a familiar way. I guess it shouldn't, but like I said, she doesn't talk about him much. Not because I think it hurts her to do so, just .. it was a long time ago, you know?

I wonder sometimes if I couldn't ask her more about him, but she herself probably barely knew him when he died, which in a way makes the fact that she calls him 'Daddy' that much more endearing, if that makes sense.

There's a painting of my mom in that same hallway, across from the black and white collage. My mom was in her early twenties, I believe, when it was painted, and it was done by someone of exceptional skill. Don't go getting any ideas when I say this, but my mother was a woman of exceptional, natural, beauty. You've probably already guessed that this is not the case anymore. She's aged, naturally of course, but with the aid of depression, smoking, stress, and basically raising her brother and sister by herself since she was twelve. I wonder a lot how things would be different if she thought of herself as pretty back then when she possessed that rare kind of beauty. Still, I know that the tiniest difference in the course of events can dramatically alter future events. I probably wouldn't have been born. And that wouldn't be good. I like it here. Mostly.

Speaking of me being born, it's because of my mom and dad that makes me believe in love at first sight, however rare, must exist. My parents met each other while on a double-date with -other- mates, my dad with his girl, my mom with her man. My mom and dad haven't been apart since.

*perks* Looks like we're about to leave for the funeral, so I'd better end this post. *ends this post*

Game Over. Continue? > Yes No

So, right now behind me on my bed is a rather large portion of my video game collection. I'm pondering trading them in. But the gamer I used to be and the gamer I think I am now are conflicting. My old gamer self cries out, "Don't do it! The other gamers will lose respect for you! You won't be hardcore! You won't be the gaming guru!" (Note: XD I've never considered myself 'the' gaming guru. It's just that out of most of my friends around here, I'm the one who is most devoted to the hobby, so whenever someone has a gaming related issue, they come to me.)

But my new gamer self says, "You have the memories. That's what's important. Your massive collection of games will live in in your head. Remember what George Carling [R.I.P] said about memories being good enough. It's the experiences that mattered, not the hoard."

I have a friend named Clay. Next to me he's the biggest gamer in our circle of friends. Our idea of a good time on the weekend is me playing WoW while he plays a game on one of my console systems. Hours can go by without us even talking to each other, and we're cool with that. Anyway, back to the point, he's the collector, and I'm not. He keeps the boxes to his PC games, has then neatly organized, he has gaming posters all over his wall, random extras for certain games. Some of them I gave to him. He keeps the boxes to his console systems. I only do that for consoles I currently own.

Anyway, a part of me says that I should care about that extra stuff. And sometimes I do. I have this cel-shaded poster of the Metal Gear from Metal Gear Acid 2, and another little .. do-dad .. from a game called Tales of the Abyss (a game I don't even own anymore). And, I mean, they're cool, but I don't know why I hesitate to part with them. I don't keep the boxes to my PC games. I rarely buy LE editions of games. Neither does Clay, but that's 'cause he rarely has the money.

I dunno. Maybe that's the difference. Maybe the extra things mean more to him because he can't buy most every game he wants like I usually can.

But I guess the whole thing falls under what seems to be my rapidly changing beliefs on how much I care about the way other people view me. I do take pride in saying I'm a hardcore gamer, but I guess my criteria of what makes a hardcore gamer is changing.

I look at the obscene amount of games that I own. I've beaten some, others I haven't. But I look at them and think, "I'm never going to play that again." Even if the game was remarkable to play through.

A few months ago I was playing Shadow Hearts: From the New World. It's a fun game. I like the series. But when I saved my game and turned it off, I felt this emptiness, and I thought, "What did I just do?" I felt like I'd wasted my time playing that game when I could've been playing others. That's when it started to seep in, I think. I knew I was never going to beat Shadow Hearts. RPGs used to be my favourite genre, but I don't have time to sink hours upon hours into a game like that anymore. I started feeling that when I was okay with beating RPGs without 100% completion, which was something I used to obsess over.

And earlier today I was playing Xenosaga III. I'm nearly at the end. It's the final game in the trilogy. And I felt like I was performing some kind of chore. I'd enjoyed the first game immensely, slugged through the second game, and found the third game to be pretty fair .. only to find that, truly, I think the story is ... just garbage. I knew it the moment one of the characters used the phrase 'reason for existence' half a dozen times in the span of a few sentences.

Still, there are some games in my collection that, whether I ever play them again or not, I want to keep for being truly reverent experiences. Games like Shadow of the Colossus and Ico (to any random gamer who happens to stumble upon this page: bet you totally didn't see those two titles coming .. ), Odin Sphere, Okami, Tactics Ogre, Zelda: Wind Waker, Legacy of Kain .. I could go on. Games that truly mean something to me, I want to keep. Even some of the longer RPGs I'm keeping. Like Dragon Quest VIII, a game I've newfound respect for. Not that I didn't already love it, but .. it's grown on me even now. And Lost Odyssey. I can make time for RPGs. Just not as many as I used to, I suppose. I enjoy where games are going. Games like Bioshock, Assassin's Creed, Alone in the Dark. Shorter games, that still take me a decent amount of time to beat, simply because I can't play for twelve hours straight like when I was younger.

Also (and I know I'm not being the most coherent right now), I had to get over 'series syndrome'. Even if I didn't particularly like a game, I'd keep it because it was part of a series. Silent Hill Origins, Blood Omen 2, Xenosaga II, and Resident Evil Zero, for example. (RE:0 actually falls under the catagory of games I knew I'd never play again).

And I've battled with games rare games, and feeling like I need to keep them because most gamers don't have them in their collection and .. other stuff that I don't feel like typing out.

I think all I really needed to do, though, was type out various parts of my 'struggle'. I know in the end where I stand. I love video games. They'll be a part of my life forever. If having a massive collection of games with lots of extras and boxes isn't important to me, there's no reason why I should have to convince myself otherwise.

What James Means

You are fair, honest, and logical. You are a natural leader, and people respect you. You never give up, and you will succeed... even if it takes you a hundred tries. You are rational enough to see every part of a problem. You are great at giving other people advice. You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. You have the classic "Type A" personality. You are confident, self assured, and capable. You are not easily intimidated. You master any and all skills easily. You don't have to work hard for what you want. You make your life out to be exactly how you want it. And you'll knock down anyone who gets in your way! You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone. You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together. At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together. You are the total package - suave, sexy, smart, and strong. You have the whole world under your spell, and you can influence almost everyone you know. You don't always resist your urges to crush the weak. Just remember, they don't have as much going for them as you do.

What's" Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

*tries to think of some witty way to turn Hallmark into a negative word*

I hate cards. That's not true, but I wanted to type that out. I don't like cards with pre-made messages in them. A little message is fine, like offering general thought (Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday!) before giving room for the person to add something deeper. I send all my cards on notebook paper, usually .. mostly because I have a compulsion to buy a humorous card every single time, which .. isn't always appropriate. Not saying everyone should write their cards on notebook paper, of course.

Of course I write this, if you haven't already guessed, because I found an old card someone sent to me either one or two years ago. I scowled as I read it. Those pre-printed words, that were actually very poetic, are a far, far cry from how this person feels about me now. Not that I care about that, exactly, but what it says to me is that this person never felt like the words on the card portray. The thought was, when the card was perused and purchased, "Oh. This is a nice thought." .. And that's all that went into it, was because it just sounded pretty.

First Post

Huh .. this feels kinda weird. Having a blog. I used to have it very negative images of my mind of bloggers, truth be told. Like a teenager girl hanging upside down over the edge of her bed with her candy-cane stockings crossed and saying things like, "Honest to blog??" when her friend told her something incredulous. Of course even before I knew of the term blog I had a Livejournal. Not that I ever used it. Anyway .. the point is that I shouldn't judge.

So! My first post of my first .. blog. In case you were wondering, the title comes from Persona, a series I'm currently obsessing over. At the time I made my LJ, I was obsessing over Angel Sanctuary. *shrugs* Looking at them now they seem sort of pretentious. Oh well.