Another Straw on a Camel's Already Broken Back

 A couple years ago, I decided to "quit" playing Magic. I didn't like the direction the game was headed in and the fact the company that makes it, Wizards of the Coast (WotC0 and its parent company, Hasbro, seemed more concerned with sales than the actual game itself. I get the American capitalism wants to do its thing, but I've always felt there should be a limit to how much of that thing companies try to do. And WotC was breaking that limit. That "quitting" phase lasted about a year before I got pulled back in.

I've said it before, I think Magic is an amazingly designed game and overall I love it. It's a hard game to just leave behind, even when the company making it has shown themselves to be evil corporate suckers of satan's cock. (That last part if a Bill Hicks reference, RIP).

That may have changed today. They were previewing and upcoming set. (A Star Trek set at that!) And in this set in certain packs will be cards autographed by the actors from the show. 

WotC has truly jumped the shark for me on this. They're using an old shitty gimmick from sports cards and adding it to Magic. And it's only in an attempt to boost sales by getting Star Trek fans that have no interest in the game to buy up packs, creating a demand for the packs that creates artificial scarcity that in turn justifies a future price increase of the product. It's honestly fucking sickening.

So it's a bit early to say, but I think I'm done buying Magic. Well, to clarify, I'm hoping to be done buying sealed Magic/product direct from the company. Like I don't think I'll actually quit playing - it's a fun game! - but the idea of buying all the product that I once was makes me feel ill at this point. So instead I'm just going to be one of those nerds that plays commander and buys singles for their commander decks. I would also say I'm hoping for the news of Chris Cocks and/or Mark Rosewater (CEO of Hasbro and lead Magic designer, respectively) being caught up in some huge scandal that ends their careers and sends them to jail for the rest of their lives, but I know in this day and age, they'd just be replaced by people as equally vile as that are (I'd say more vile, but not sure that's possible for either).  

 Song of the Day (not a song today)

 

Re-Certified Possible, but not likely, Killer

 Today (technically yesterday at this point, I had to qualify on the M4. For those that don't know what that means, I went to a shooting range and fired a rifle at a target and so much as I hit the target a little more than 70% of the time, the Air Force says I'm good to be deployed. Somehow, and I really have no idea how, I qualified. I went in there with no sleep and the safety glasses they game me had a giant scratch right in my line of fire, so I took a lot of shots I wasn't sure of. 

 It was a day away from my normal job and that's usually nice. However, guns kind of bore me and if it hadn't been for having a friend in the class to joke around with, I might've fallen asleep mid trigger pull. 

The thing that really annoys me about it though is that we're required to qualify. I get that this is the military and most of us should know how to fire a gun and the basics for doing so effectively. But it seems like a bit of pressure on some people to say they need to hit the targets so many times when the reality is that if people in jobs like mine are being issued gins to fire at the enemy, we screwed up long ago. Chances are, if I'm in a combat zone and I'm looking down the scope on this thing, my life is already considered forfeit and I'm just trying to buy some time for our command staff to evacuate. That being the case, we could save the AF a lot of time and money tailoring these classes to that idea and not worrying about how accurate the shooters are.

Thankfully, the people that run the class seem to know this and I'm pretty sure they often count shots that should be misses as hits. That said, in my lowly but not so humble opinion, we could save a whole lot of time shortening the class to half a day where we cover the most basic of shooting fundamentals and then everyone is given the chance to fire a few shots so they know how it feels to pull the trigger and they're not scared of the weapon should they have to use it.

Song of the Day 

I Hate the Day Before the Work Week Begins (which is usually Sunday)

No matter what I do, or don't do, the days always manages to feel like it's dragging on and going by too fast at the same time. 

Most the time, I like to meal prep for the work week. And even though I've got it down to a routine that should only take up about ninety minutes of my time total (not all at once), I still end up spending three hours-plus on getting foods ready, cooked, and packaged. I've tried multiple methods for doing everything and every method seems to equal about the same amount of time. 

Then there's laundry for the week. Which I usually try to do earlier in the weekend. But it seems there's always one last load to do and it takes extra long to dry compared to normal loads. There's also other cleaning around the house to do. And while I also try to do house cleaning continually throughout the week, there's something about Sundays (or whatever day is preceding the work week) that has me finding seemingly hidden messes that need to be taken care. (Right now, it's piles of dog hair as Hamlet seems to be shedding his summer coat already).

Lastly, there's just the existential dread of doing a nine-to-five that has begun to feel quite pointless. I know in my drinking days it felt pointless, but that was largely due to hangovers and being at work getting in the way of my continued drinking. Then I got sober and it wasn't so bad. But these days, it's back to feeling pointless. And that makes wearing the uniform pretty hard to do. Especially since I hate shaving so much. 

But oh well. I haven't really made much in the way of life decisions that has really helped me out to have options. Tomorrow I have to go in to work early. Really early. Like on day shift. Which means I'm likely to get very little sleep and have one very long day. But on the plus side, with all the rain in the forecast, I might just get home tomorrow and have one of those magical twelve-hour sleeps after work.

Song of the Day 

Finally Hiked Flattop Peak 2. And Peak 3.

 My original hiking plans kinda fell through and when I awoke today, my plan was to just stay in. But then, for whatever reason, I decided I should at least get a little more use out of my annual parking pass and go hike Flattop. Of course, as I left my house, it began raining and I almost pulled my car right back into the garage, but figured I should at least head to the trailhead and see how things are there. I'm glad I did. Not that the weather was much better, but once I got there I figured I may as well at least do some hiking. And instead of going to Flattop itself as I normally do, I decided I should head to Peak 2.

 

For all my time living in Alaska, I've known about Flattop Peaks 2 and 3, but never done them. No one talks about them much and what little I've heard makes it sound like Flattop itself is the only peak really worth the work. I wish I'd just chanced it and headed to the additional peaks long before today. Peak 2 was pretty cool and Peak 3 was absolutely amazing.  

 Of course, at first I told myself just do Peak 2 and save Peak 3 for another time. But Hamlet kept moving forward on the trail and who was I to argue with him. 

Peak 3 looks much further than it really is, but if you're like me and have to stop every ten feet to take another picture, it still takes a little bit to get there. 

There was even some snow on Peak 3 still (in mid-July!), which made Hamlet happy.

Lastly, much to my surprise, there's a little weather station thingy on Peak 3. Why am I surprised? Cause even though it's a rather seemingly remote location, it actually doesn't seem too out of the way for bored assholes looking to wreak havoc. 

People seem surprised Hamlet is doing these hikes at his age (11 1/2), but he lead the way the whole time and didn't even seem close to being done by the end.

Finally, on the way back, we went to Flattop proper so I could get that iconic look at Anchorage the peak is so famous for. I got a different view instead this time. 

Song of the Day

I Got Fired

 That's about as sensationalist of a title as I can make.

What I really mean is that a couple weeks ago, my therapist told me she thinks our sessions are no longer doing me any good and I should find a new therapist. And in all reality, she was right. While she'd certainly helped me out a good bit over the past couple years, over the past few months I'd been leaving my sessions feeling like they were a bit of a waste of my time (and money).  It also started to feel like she wasn't really listening to what I was saying (and maybe from her perspective, I wasn't listening to the advice she was trying to give me).

Regardless, the kick in the pants for me is that she said she'd talk with some colleagues and refer me to someone else that might be more specialized to my current situation. This was over two weeks ago now and I haven't heard shit from any other office in town. I have good insurance, the kind that gets most medical places in town to seem like they can't get me in their door soon enough. So I would've thought by now some office would've reached out, but nope.

I know I don't need to wait for someone to call me - that I can start calling around town. I just preferred the idea of going to an office where they already had notes and I wouldn't have to re-talk about old crap. C'est la vie.

Honestly, I'm not even sure therapy would be worth my time at this point. Not that I think I'm "fixed" or anything like that, but the search for a good therapist is daunting. Like that's time that could be better spent doing other things, most notably sleeping in. And while a good therapist can certainly help someone to sort through some personal shit and come out a better person, there is a plethora of bad therapists out there. Like way more bad ones than good. Of course that may be anecdotal bias showing, but it's amazing how many people I know that have bad similar experiences with bad therapists.

Anyways, I'm rambling cause why the fuck not? I thought today was gonna be a much more different day than it turn out to be. I don't even know why. Foolish hopefulness I guess, which I'm no stranger to. And lots and lots of confusion lately about my future and life and all that. I'm glad I'm sober for it though. Drunk me would've likely broken some furniture and sent some very uncomfortable texts.  

 

Song of the Day 

The Real Magic is in the Friends we Fake Along the Way

Last Friday, I went to Bosco's (a local gaming store, or LGS) to play Magic. I don't get out to do so much because every time I have the time (which isn't as often as I pretend to want), I tend to suddenly not feel like doing so. Even when it's something I'd been planning to do ahead of time. This past Friday was almost another one of those times I backed out of doing so. Who knows, maybe it's social anxiety manifesting itself as a sudden form of blase about the game? 

Regardless, I made myself go anyways. Frankly, I've spent too much money on the damn game to not be playing damn near every chance I get. And by the end of the night, I found myself having a pretty good time. Which is what happens nearly every single time I actually get off my butt and go play.

I think since I started playing/collecting Magic again (a little over three years ago now), there's two times I can remember going (out of like 20+ times at this point) and not enjoying myself. 

One time was when I was still relearning the game and some asshole lied to me about the rules so he could win. I remember at the time having a feeling he was wrong in what he was saying, but I didn't want to be "that guy" and hold up the game with a challenge. I now know it's OK to be that guy and call people out on their BS, whether they're doing it intentionally or not.

The other time I went home feeling like maybe I'd wasted my night when I was just having an off night and I probably would've felt crappy no matter what I did. And that's OK, I think we all have those nights and there's just not much to be done about them.

All that said, it amazes me how often I avoid going and playing still just because I'm unsure if it'll be worth the time. Sure, there's those stereotypical stinky and/or socially awkward people we all associate with gaming (and I probably fall into the latter to some degree, but hopefully not the former at all), but those have never been so bad for me that they took away from the overall enjoyment of the game and most the other people I'm playing with. (Funny enough, the part about stinky and/or socially awkward people also holds true for jiu jitsu, but that's something to write about another time). 

I don't know. I guess as I sit here avoiding organizing cards I have that need to be sorted (so instead I write about the hobby) it dawns on me that in some ways, I'm the one keeping myself from enjoying life. 

Song of the Day

Finally made it up Wolverine.

 Here I am (being my goofy self), on Wolverine Peak. My first time ever doing this hike, but I certainly hope it won't be the last. 

It was the longest hike I'd done in a long time and at moments very grueling. But at no point did I feel like I would need to turn around early. The only downside to this hike was that I couldn't bring Hamlet as I knew it would be too much for him. 

One of my biggest regrets from all the years I spent being drunk was how little I got Hamlet out and that I never got him on hikes like this when he was able to do them. He would've loved this hike. (Granted, he loves all hikes. But I feel like the he enjoys the longer and higher ones the most). And I know wallowing in regret does no good, but it's hard not to think about the time wasted when memories of places like this could've been being made.

Anyways, what a day. What an amazing day.

Song of the Day
 

Did You Know Kraft Foods Pressured Green Jello to Change Their Name to Green Jelly? Talk About Fascism

 When I went to bed last night, I was hoping I wouldn't have to leave the house at all today. Unfortunately, I knew that wouldn't be the case when I awoke. Partly because I didn't have much to eat in the house and partly because I hate my house and any day I don't get out for even a little bit makes me feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. So in a less than stellar mood, I set out for the real world.

My first stop, as usually is, was my favorite local coffee shop. The line was out the door and I almost turned around, but the need for coffee and the knowledge that most the coffee huts between me and my next destination sucked, I decided to stick it out. 

So there I was, ten minutes in line and only having moved forward about eight feet, when suddenly a barista I didn't recognize came up to me with a coffee. She quoted my normal order, handed the coffee to me, and said I was good to go. The other people in line looked at me with (what I imagined was) jealousy as I stood there dumbfounded. I'm sure one of the regular baristas that I did recognize working was the orchestrator of this whole thing, but I have no idea which one it could be. It did put me in a good mood for a little bit though, even while I tried to remain in a bad mood.

Eventually the bad mood returned when the low self esteem part of my brain wondered aloud what if they gave me the coffee drink like that so they wouldn't have to look at me standing in line for the next fifteen minutes. Still, I got a free coffee (kind of free - I'll tip today's coffee money in their jar next time I'm there) and that was nice.

I also bought a new shirt, one that buttons up and has a collar. I think I need to grow up a little bit and adopt a little more of an adult wardrobe. I'll probably never wear the shirt, but at least I have it for any time I may want to feel more like an adult. 

Then I got some Eye Tooth pizza and now I'm home trying to keep myself in my skin. 

That was my July 4th, 2026. The 250th anniversary of this democratic experiment known as the USA.  

Song of the Day

RIP Odysseus, Goofy Poop Eater Extraordinaire

 

This week my dad had to lay his dog to rest. And while he was most definitely my dad's dog, I'd like to think I was the dog's fun uncle. 

Until my dad left Alaska, it wasn't uncommon for me to take Odysseus on long walks on the wooded trails of east Anchorage, especially in the early years of Odysseus's life when I live on that side of town and before I had a dog of my own. 

I'm not gonna lie, Odysseus wasn't the smartest dog I've ever known. Not the dumbest either, but certainly closer to the latter than the former. But what he may have lacked in brain power, he more than made up for with enthusiasm. I'm pretty sure given the chance, he'd have kept on walking/hiking with me until the end of time. He'd also have taken every chance he could have to eat any moose poop he found on the trail - that's just how he was. 

I always kind of wondered how well he'd remember me after my dad moved out of state. In fall of 2024, I got that answer and it appeared he remembered me quite well. And even though he'd undoubtedly aged, in many ways he still seemed like that same youthful dog ready for adventure that I'd known years ago. I was really hoping I'd get another chance to see him too, but life (and death) rarely keeps to the schedule we wish it to. 

Anyways, there's not too much else to be said for Odysseus right now. Wish I had more pictures of him. Both the pics here are from the last time I saw him and all the other pictures I'd taken of him over the years are on a hard drive that won't boot up. C'est la vie. For now, this little spot I can give for his memory on the internet will have to do.