Sunglasses.

I MADE THIS AND I'LL EXPLAIN WHY AT THE END OF THIS ALL.

Right. Let's do this. Uninterrupted. I've got so much shit to talk about. You don't even know. Let's start with the Navy. 

Right, so you guys know I'm joining the Navy and all that. I took the ASVAB awhile back and it was being processed. We'll it turns out I've scored higher than my Intel Officer father, which leaves a whole lot of doors open for me. They're offering me a chance to join their Nuclear Department which is outrageous. It pays very well. It comes with stellar Navy benefits. They give me a Bachelor's in Nuclear Physics, and after four years, if it's something I'm still interested in, I can either accept $65,000 to re-enlist or I can simply cut my losses and apply my Nuclear Know-How elsewhere. In the department, if I'd like, I can actually tailor my direction towards treatment for radiation and the like, which allows me to hit the ground running and be a Chemo Tech or something if I'd like out of the Navy.

It's not neccessarily the job I'd wanted, but it's a very good one and it's still medical.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE. 

That's right. This post? It's gonna be like a damned Infomercial. 

Most of my friends, by some sort of galactic syzygy, have begun to WIN AT ROMANCE, and there's another addition to that group. Sabina! Sabina's WINNING AT ROMANCE.

Sabina's awesome. She dresses like stylish hoodlum, and casually listens to SAVE THE WORLD MUSIC, that is, dramatic Orchestral Pieces that would be befitting of leaping into the sky to challange the gods while humanity's fate hangs in the balance. I'll share some of it with you later when I've actually stopped typing for a moment. In addition Sabina's got a vocabulary that could make a sailor blush - as a Russian, she's capable of constructing a sentence entirely out of expletives and obscenities.

I particularly like hearing recanted times of her insulting people. A particular favorite of mine was, "I would tell you to go fuck a wall with your head, but I believe two walls cannot copulate."

Anyways, someone else has acknowledged Sabina's awesomeness, just like Ana's, and I am HOPELESSLY GIDDY over this fact.

CONGRATULATIONS, SABINA!

Oh shit, this reminds me. More on Ana. See, she's a huge fan of this place that sells really bitchin' patterned socks, stockings, garters and the like. It's a little place I occasionally dream of spending money at called Sock Dreams. Anyways, most of Ana's NOTORIOUSLY AWESOME OUTFITS are built around a pair of matching stockings, and after posting a picture of herself wearing their merchandise, Ana was actually contacted and told the following:

 ▇▇▇▇ is adorable, from her enthusiasm to her toes! We’re so pleased you’re loving the knee highs as much as we do!

Hello! We were wondering if you could submit a few cute sexy socks photos to our new blog. We are just getting started and need your help. Of course we will give you credit and a link to your blog with any submission. We seriously love your blog and you are so pretty. It would be out honor to have you on our site. Thanks ▇▇▇▇

It's really cool to have a place or person that you dig acknowledge your existence. Moreover, it's even better when they tell you that you're sexy.

YOU ARE OFFICIALLY ATTRACTIVE, ANA.

Which brings me to some odd stuff that happened today, which will likely segue into me talking about odd crap that happened over the weekend. 

So, regarding that sensation when someone you dig acknowledges your existence - If you're not familiar with Brian Lee, he's the guy behind the MYSTERIOUS AND SOMEWHAT NONSENSICAL interactive flash project TANE. I was particularly fond of one of the tracks he'd been working with and offered to pay him with a doodle of me wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket in an 8-bit theme - a phrase I'd used to discribe the sensation of hearing the track - in exchange for it. This is why there is an odd pixilated mess at the top of this page.

Either way, it worked and was sort of neat.

Now onto this weekend. I was leaving church. The closing line was "Be bold, not timid, in your service to God," and it really stuck me good. I felt ADEQUATELY BOLSTERED and left looking for someone to help when I stumbled onto a nursery school. They're understaffed, so I've offered to volunteer there. Feels Kamishirasawa, man.

After that, though, I'd heard this sound like a hammer busting off a wall. I could hear a man and woman screaming at each-other and I just didn't really know what to do. I stood there. A guy left to smoke and I asked if he'd heard it, too, and was concerned but he said he didn't hear anything. I told him I knew what apartment it was coming from and he just shook his head. I was nervous as hell, but I thought "Maybe someone's getting hurt?" and "Be bold, not timid," and finally I just knocked at the door.

This super gaunt-faced guy with a tattoo that read "ANTHONY" across his neck answered the door. I asked him if he were okay, and it went a little something like this:

• Me: "Hey, uh. Everything alright?
• Him: "Yeah, yeah-...Yeah, uh...No."
• Me: "What's wrong?"
• Him: "...Well, my wife and kids just left me. I just moved here. All my shit's in boxes and it reminds me of them to unpack it. A lot of it broke in the truck here. I just don't know what to do."

I kind of directed him to the Church and then offered to help him unpack.

 Anyways, now I'm planning and figuring. I have to part ways with some stuff to hit $180, but I've accounted for my trip somewhat, and I'm planning on visiting a few friends in New York City.
I'm going to be making Flan, and taking Alex out to eat.

MUCH EXCITATIONS.

I Lied.

It's not a placeholder. I've got screen-shots and everything, but I've been embroiled in so much. Between amateur sleuthing, Navy stuff, taking my sister to the Airport, and such, I just haven't had time to talk about Ib, and now that I really begin thinking about it, there's very little I could tell you anyways. So. Here's a super-condensed rendition of my Ib spiel:

Ib is the story of a nine year-old girl - the titular Ib - who visits an art gallery filled with the works of Weiss Guertena, a brilliant but unsung artist. The day begins to wind down as Ib views an encompassing painting effectively titled "___ World"; the game omits words that young Ib does not know or understand, allowing one to share at times in her sense of confusion and displacement. 

Ib finds the gallery deserted, and is urged by eerie paint-spills to enter one of Guertena's works, "The Abyss of the Deep" where she finds herself plunged into a world of eerie curio, heartbreak, and mystery from which she must escape.

I highly recommend Ib to anyone. The puzzles require thought, but not so much that it impedes gameplay. The characters are well-written and exceptionally investing, and the scenery is well-executed with periodic breaks from the pixelated visuals to indulge in hand-drawn facets and a soundtrack that matches its aesthetics well.

In other review, I'd like to bring up Toho Koukayaku: the Game. If you're a frequent reader here, you're undoubtedly acquainted with the CPUnzan - my positively dreadful but hard-working netbook. This game is, like most, a product of its limitations. I had been speaking with Alex, who was keen on sharing a game with me, but I simply couldn't handle such favorites as Sky-Arena and such. This little number was the sole gem of Alex's collection that he was able to pass my way.

Toho Koukayaku: the Game is a Mega Man-style platformer only in the sense of its gameplay. A lot of fan-made games like this have a tendency to use poorly-cobbled pixel reskins for humor, homage, or ease. Instead, Koukayaku features fully crafted and well-animated sprites for each playable character, right down to idling poses and crouching animations. In addition each person has their own portrait with various emotions in a fashion akin to, say, Harvest Moon. Conversations are headed by the character you play as.

Each character has a different style of game-play and different abilities, each of which have a practical application while running through the haphazard obstacle-courses that line your way: Byakuren is the only playable character capable of firing continuously, Captain Murasa can essentially hookshot herself up otherwise risky gaps and is the only character with a fully-aimable shot, Ichirin can destroy walls of bullets and instantly kill enemies, if only in a short distance, Nazrin is the fastest character in the game and is able to track power-ups and bonus items, and Shou can jump an astonishing eight times before her jump meter expires.

The gameplay is fun, allowing you to play as your favorite attendant of Myourenji for any boss-fight so long as you've unlocked them, and concludes with an unexpected villain. Twice.

I have more I'd like to talk about, like Sabina, Claire, Emily, the cost of an international Fax, the Navy, and possibly what'd be fun to do after the Navy, but this post has deleted itself twice and had to be retyped by hand because my "Save Draft" feature wasn't working and I just don't really care to spend any more time sitting at this chair. I'm going to head to the Gym for the meantime. But expect a later post with much less nerdy, game-filled discussion.

Ib.

This is a placeholder.

 I've got to prattle on about Ib before it consumes me with its bleedy doll-mouth, 

But I'm heading out to church to drop off this change-jar they'd asked me to keep - it's shaped like a baby-bottle and it's for struggling parents on Mother/Father's Day.

Oh my God, Gary. He's so righteous.

Glorious.

I RETURN.

Everything's glorious, and I've decided to buckle-down and commit to joining the Navy in particular. The Guard's just too flaky with its support. I've taken two practice ASVABs and I figure after the third, I'll saunter in like I own the place and hope for the best.

Over the span of my trip, I've gotten a little soft with regard to my work-outs. I'm in the habit of doing them again, though, so I think I'm in the clear. Tonight I'll see if my run-time has suffered at all.
On a similar vein of topic, I've come down with something - I woke up with golf-ball tonsils and tea and the likes doesn't seem to have helped. I probably got it from that angry Chinese woman on my flight home, demanding a transfer to First Class with her husband. She was the only person cycling oxygen at an abnormal rate.

CONTAMINATOR IDENTIFIED.

Ana had a date recently. You have no clue - not an inkling - as to the SHEER VOLUME OF MY UNFLATTERING MAN-SQUEALS released. So many. I think I may be in an irrevocable MAN-SQUEAL DEFICIT. Ana has been one of my greatest friends for like, ages. Several forevers. She's a strong person with a flair for art, music, and fashion that is unrivaled. I sincerely can state I've never known someone with her capacity for it. On occasion, I worry I'm the only person who sees these things, and now that I'm not, I'm immensely proud to learn that  

ANA IS WINNING AT ROMANCE.

Hell yes, Ana. I'm so happy for you. 

The only picture I think adequately expresses my approval is this:

I've also taken to compiling a few small games that I'll be able to play kind of, well, regardless of where I'm at, 'cause of their low demands on computers. The newest addition is one I'm hoping to be a bit like .flow if not more puzzle-centric. It's the mildly acclaimed Ib, pronounced "Eeb".

If you'd like to Follow Along With Me I've taken the liberty of uploading it for you.

I've not a clue what it's about, but I know it takes place in a museum and that it's supposedly quite intense. .flow was glorious because I'd leapt into it both feet at a late hour with no clue what to expect. I'm hoping Ib will be quite the same. It'd interested me, but not enough to play until I saw an artist I enjoy - Hounori - draw some fan-art of it.

Hounori's pretty interesting. I've always liked his work. He's side by side with Onikobe Rin as my favorite, though I think Onikobe still takes the cake at the end of the day. I find Hounori's pictures of himself and his wife and kid to be particularly interesting. Most people don't put themselves out there like that.

Did I mention Hounori Also Does Shirts? He's got a tea-themed one and an RPG themed one.

They're both pretty awesome, and I'd like to get them someday, but right now I just don't have the extra money to be slinging around. Actually, I do, but after my ASVAB, I'd like to pay New York City a visit.

See, I've got two friends - Alex and Claire - who live in the same district of Queens and I figured I'd hitch a bus there and treat them both to a meal. Alex doesn't know what he wants, so it's entirely possible we might just get take out and call it good, but Claire and I have decided on Flan.

I'm bitchin' with Flan, but I have trouble with the Caramel.

If you've never made Caramel, I'll tell you it's deceptively simple. You spoon a metric ass-load of sugar into boiling water, and then - like rice - you don't stir it. You let it sit there and boil until it's brown. However, you need to do it at a PERFECT RATIO OF SOLUTE AND TIME. See, too much, and it'll sink to the bottom of the pot and burn. Too long and it'll actually cook too dark, at which point it looks like caramel, but tastes a lot like ass. If you undershoot it, you wind up with a sheet of congealed sugar over your Flan that resembles a thin dinner-plate, and a watery caramel-flavored syrup.

That said, I think I'm just going to buy a bottle of Dulce de Leche and call it good. If you get it out of the Spanish Goods aisle, you can get it canned for like, a dollar.

I've gotten some mail out, by the by!

I've got some slick bottle-caps from my stay out in the Mojave, and I've begun making them into fashion pins without delay, so I've given a few of the cooler ones to my good friend Agustin! 

I've a bunch from Topo Chico, but I'm afraid all the others are Puerto Rico bound. 

If you'd dig wearing a bottle-cap from a Spanish mineral water company, hit me up, and I'll pass one up your way! I've got four left, or so. I might have a few others hiding in my suitcase or backpack.

In conclusion, I heard Ride Captain Ride on the way to the Airport. It is glorious, and I'll never forget it.

Uncanny - or perhaps curiously auspicious - for a Navy boy bound for a new land. 

God, isn't it funny how things work out?