Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been able to fairly convincingly speak in different accents. I don’t really think there’s any special trick to it, except the lack of fear of looking silly and hearing it in your head. I’ve been walking around the house for the past few days being British. Yeah, that’s what I said. Being British. I’m not sure why, exactly. It just sorta… happens. It drives my boys nuts. “Stop talking like Jane!” they demand. They’re referring to the Disney version of Tarzan. They’re sure my British accent is my impression of Jane.

When I took a French class I initially thought, “Cool, I can do a French accent. I just need to learn the language.” But then I wondered which was worse–an American botching the language with an obvious American accent, or an American botching the language while doing an American’s impresion of a French accent? I asked my professor, and he didn’t exactly answer the question. I think he said something along the lines of “try your best.” Try my best to what? I still want to know which is worse. I’m not shy about doing my French accent, but would it be offensive? I don’t know.

In other news, I’ve found myself in the weird habit of singing a handful of songs lately. These aren’t songs I love necessarily, and they’re not songs I hear that often. But for some reason, they just keep popping into my head. The one that “visits” me most often is Rod Stewart’s Reason to Believe. I wake up. There it is. Another song that have visited me recently is Against All Odds by Phil Collins. Why? I wish I knew. It just happens. The worst part about these songs showing up like this is that it starts to become a habit. Everytime I brush my teeth now, I think of Reason to Believe. Does anyone else experience this? Really, I’m curious. It’s not just music either, though that’s been my experience lately. You know that scene from The Sixth Sense where he catches his wife accepting a gift from a man she works with so he breaks the glass door? That scene plays through my head everytime I wash the boys’ hair during their bath. I’m guessing that I must have been thinking about the movie during one of their baths. For some reason, that scene and washing their hair have become a joined moment.

The more I think about it, the more bizarre connections I find in my head. I need to stop thinking about it.

I went to see the new “King Arthur” movie this weekend. I can’t say if I liked it or not because I can’t get past the fact that it wasn’t my King Arthur. Ever since I read The Mists of Avalon I’ve kind of accepted it as the real story, I guess. Yeah, I know it’s fiction, but I prefer Marion Zimmer Bradley’s fictional version above all others.

The interpretation they used in the movie seemed to be based on the historical evidence of the real life King Arthur. In fact, they call it “the untold true story that inspired the legend.” But for me, it seriously lacked the mystique found in the fantasy versions. I definitely would have liked it better if it wasn’t trying to be the King Arthur story. If the characters had been given different names, I could have watched more objectively. In fact, aside from the sight of the round table, there was nothing about the movie that would have suggested to me that this was the King Arthur story if they had used different names for the characters. Disappointing, huh?

I told myself from the beginning to be objective and to watch with an open mind. It didn’t happen. Did I like the movie? The jury’s still out on that one. I’ll need to analyze it more in my head to be able to come up with an answer. But it wasn’t my King Arthur.

When I was in high school, I was an active member of the Drama Club. I loved play-acting since I was a child, and the Drama Club gave me a place to do that with other people. I was involved in the community theatre a bit too. I loved acting. I took a character someone else created and gave it life. But I was always interpreting the work of someone else. I was acting.

In 1998, I found Dragon’s Gate. I created characters that were my own. I found that I wasn’t acting anymore. I was starting to see through these characters. Their actions were up to me. There was no script. There was no predetermined outcome. I had to play these characters. Although it was from behind the computer, I felt that my ability to perform had improved.

A few years ago, I took a course in college called Interpretive Reading. It was more than acting. It was more like the playing I was doing in my game, but with a script and in front of an audience. It was around this same time that I rolled a new character in my game. With this new character, I suddenly found myself being able to see everything as if I was the character. Movies, plays, stories… I could find pieces from each of these that related to my character. This weird combination of seeing everything through my character, and being forced to perform in front of the class changed my performances. I found myself no longer playing, but being these characters.

I became completely enthralled with the concept of being someone else. It had nothing to do with being dissatisfied with my own life, but everything to do with just experiencing life in so many different ways. It’s very hard for me to explain it, and probably even harder for you to understand it unless you’ve experienced it yourself. People could ask questions of my characters about their history or upbringing. Without having written those things out, I was able to create the answers out of thin air. But I wasn’t creating them. It was as if the answers already existed, and my character knew even if I didn’t. They were answering because they knew. I know how crazy this all sounds, but it’s truly exhilarating. I imagine it’s how a lot of professional actors feel. And I can understand when they say that performing certain scenes are emotionally exhausting for them.

I’ve lost interest in my game the past few months, and the reason is becoming clear. I stopped playing those characters that were full of life. This past week I’ve found myself connecting with another character. Part of me is holding back because I know the character is a temporary. But part of me is reveling in the experience I’ve missed for so long. The character seemed so dull and uninteresting until I was able to get into its head.

I’m considering a return to our community theatre. With this new way of becoming another person, I think I could have a lot of fun. Then again, I’m not sure I could go back to reading a script. Plus, being someone different without the confinement of a body allows for a lot of flexibility, so maybe I’ll just hang out here for a while.

I had an interesting time in my game last night. I’ve found myself having more and more fun lately with a character that I can’t keep. Let me try to explain.

I have three characters that I play regularly (or used to play regularly) that are my favorites. With each of them, I found my enjoyment came from interacting with other characters more than working on skills and buying things. Over the past few years, some of the characters I count on for interaction have become less available. During that time, I took on a project or two that involved creating temporary characters. They’re throwaway characters that I have no intention on playing past a certain point. One of these throwaway characters has suddenly become interesting for me to play. Again, it’s because of the interaction with another character. My problem is this: I can’t become too attached to this character of mine because I cannot keep it for myself. I can’t explain that further, but trust me, keeping it is impossible. But I’m having fun again through this character. I guess it’s not really a problem. I’ll just continue to enjoy it until the time I have to give it up, I suppose. I’m hoping that this character will be the beginning of me getting back to enjoying the game full time once again.

I can only imagine how trivial these imaginary problems must sound. If only everyone’s problems were as simple as mine. Don’t you just envy me?
BTW, if anyone has a strong desire to learn more about my game, please contact me. I can give you more information than most normal people would tolerate here in my blog. LOL

We had a good laugh over this. Maybe you will too.

Me: I’m getting to that age where my doctor is going to recommend a mammogram soon.

The Husband: (pointing to the picture in the William-Sonoma catalogue of a steak branded with three initials) I wanna get some of those branding irons.

Child: (also pointing to the picture of the branded steak) What’s that?

The Husband: It’s a mammogram.

Me: A what???

The Husband: A mammogram. Er, mammogram… mammo…

Me: Do you mean “monogram”?

The Husband: Yeah. Monogram. That’s it. It’s a monogram.

I’ve always had a hard time saying goodbye to things that served me well. I’m already having a hard time accepting that the beautiful Autumn Blaze pear tree and all the other plants we planted a few weeks ago will no longer be mine when we sell this house someday. Oh… and the light fixtures we replaced. And the paint on the walls. These things are mine. I choose them specifically for me. They are part of me.

A few months ago, I finally was able to say goodbye to my stuffed animal collection. I had more critters than is acceptable for a person my age. Some of them were older than me, and it showed. But I had anthropomorphized them. They were my childhood friends. They had names, and histories, and personalities. I couldn’t throw them in the trash. But some of them just weren’t good enough to go to another child. Really. I kept them in big garbage bags stored in the attic. They weren’t used, or displayed, though they were still loved. I chose a few special ones, and let the rest go. I couldn’t do it myself, but I let Rob know that I was ready to let him “take care of them.” Stupid idiot me, I’m crying now over those darn stuffed animals. Anyway, I gave them up. Finally. It was time. It was probably way past time.

I’ve been feeling a bit disenchanted with my roleplaying game lately. This feeling isn’t new, but I’ve been denying it for several months now. I found the game a few months after my boys were born in 1998. It kept my mind sharp during what was an otherwise dull time for my mind. I made a few friends from the game over the years. I played two or three characters that I grew to love. But most importantly, I created.

The game is completely text based, so it’s like being part of an interactive novel in a fantasy setting. Imagine writing the life of a character and affecting the lives of other characters in your favorite book. How cool is that! I practically bounce out of my chair just writing about it. Or at least, I used to.

I used to spend a few hours every night typing life into my characters. To some, it sounds a bit obsessive, but to me, it was just what I did for an hour or more every night when I put my boys to bed. Then, last November, things started to change. Oh, things probably started to change long before that, but I can very clearly recall a time in November when I noticed the change.

I donated a kidney to my dad in November of 2003. The story is a whole blog entry in itself, so I’ll save it for another time. After my surgery, I wasn’t feeling much up to dragging myself to my computer for quite a while. It wasn’t nearly as traumatic as one might think, but it was still major surgery. I was sore, and I was tired. When I had finally recovered enough to get back to my game, I found that I hadn’t really missed it as much as I thought I would. Part of me was surprised. Part of me was disappointed. For years, the game had been the thing I did during the hours between the boys’ bedtime and mine. It was my time. Some people watch T.V., some people read, I played Dragon’s Gate. I wasn’t ready to be over it. I hadn’t expected to be over it.

So here I am, several months later asking myself if it’s time to leave my wonderful little online game and community. I haven’t really played for fun much in the past months. Usually, I go in-game to fulfill obligations my characters have to others. It turns out to be pretty fun sometimes, but it’s starting to feel more and more like work. I’ve been in this rut before, and it usually dies out itself. I’m not sure this is a rut this time though.

As silly as it sounds, I believe I’m going to have to force myself to go in-game and have some fun. If I can find the fun again than things will be well. If not, well, then it may be time to move on. The hard part is that although I don’t feel like playing, much like the situation with those stuffed animals, I’m not ready to give it up.

Isn’t it odd that I appreciate the ability to observe the world as a child, yet I feel the need to let go of my childish thing?

We had the families over to celebrate Independence Day yesterday. The weather was perfect–bright sun, strong breeze, no rain. Today, however, it has been raining off and on all day. It’s raining again as I write. I’d say it was a good call having the families over yesterday.

In other news, we went to see Harry Potter 3 today. I gave in to the boys on Friday and took them to the arcade. We won nearly 400 tickets between the three of us. When it was time to cash them in, the boys both decided they wanted to get a sucker. A 5 ticket sucker. When I told them they had enough tickets to get more than a sucker, they decided they each wanted two suckers. Two 5 ticket suckers each.

My boys, just because.

Brendan

Jacob

I had the most delicious dreams about jewelry and handbags this morning. I know it sounds corny, but it’s true. Some of my best ideas come to me while I’m half conscious; when I’m just falling asleep, when I’m just waking up, while I’m showering, while I’m doing dishes. All these ideas are spinning wildly around in my head just waiting to get out, and yet, I’m feeling very sleepy. But after spending so much time in the garden, and so little time with my boys, I’ve promised them that the rest of the week would be play time.

Wednesday we went to see Spiderman 2. I liked it much better than the first one. We missed the first few minutes of the movie though because my tiny little theatre, which never has more than a dozen or so customers at a time, was packed with Spiderman fans.

Thursday we went to the beach. I live in a charming little community that is known for it’s lakes and golf courses. In fact, there is nothing here besides lakes and golf courses. So we spend most of Thursday at our favorite beach. The sun was hot, the breeze was cool, and I was able to even out the farmer’s tan I was starting to show after five days of gardening.

We haven’t decided what to do today. The cable guy came this morning and fixed my sporatic cable connection. Now, we’re debating between the movies again (haven’t seen Harry Potter 3 yet) and the arcade. I’m leaning towards the movies just because I’m still feeling incredibly lazy. They’re hoping for the arcade. I’ll probably give into them.