Sam hurt

Life is not a meritocracy

Sometimes you work very hard, you do everything right, and you get nothing in return. You’re tired, you gave everything and to top it off you organised your own victory party. And you have to clean up the mess by yourself afterwards.

2014 was an unbelievable journey. And now I’m back home, I have jetlag and I have to do the laundry. Metaphorically speaking.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Cook

December

This is my last week at work. I think it's hard. There are christmas gifts and holiday greetings, lots of reasons to connect and care. And I have to disconnect and stop caring, because it's not up to me.

The calendar is full of holiday cheers and dinners with people I love. I am grateful for the joy and friendship in my life.

And the material things. I'm grateful for that too. We have a comfortable new couch, we have some very nice videogames and we get wholesome food from HelloFresh with easy instructions on how to cook it. (Let me know if you want to try it out, I can get you a discount)

Lots of things to be grateful for...
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Bimfoodle

emotional multitasking

I’m happy every time Hubbie hugs me and shows me he’s doing fine.
I’m sad every time we receive another condolences card in the mail.
I’m happy my parents’ health is good.
I’m sad when I try to remember what my in-laws used to look like when they were healthy.
I’m happy my brother has a new awesome job.
I’m sad that my last workday at Cito is approaching.
I’m happy I can get unemployment benefits.
I’m sad that some of my friends are broke.
I’m happy I have good friends.
I’m sad that someone really hurt my feelings.
I’m happy because I still have a lot of fun things to do with people I love.
I’m sad because some things just end and will never happen again.
I’m not unstable, my life is just complicated right now, ok?

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

just keep going

You’ll excuse me. Today is not a monday. But today is the day of the funeral. No doctor could make him better anymore and he didn’t want to make us unhappy by going in and out of the hospital for weeks. So he died last tuesday, at home, with his brother and his children beside him.

Hubbie and his sister are such champs, spending days on end at Dad’s house to get the funeral in order. Hubbie even wrote a speech. Meanwhile, I just have to keep going. My last workday is 18 december, and I can’t be sick or take another day off. I just won’t. I care about that place and about my manager and I want to see that I’m replaced and that she doesn’t miss me.

Anyway. Today I donned my black suit. Hubbie is nervous and we’ll probably leave the house way too early. He’s in charge now… And I just have to keep going.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

very monday today

Even though I had a very nice weekend, I have a lot on my mind right now. My father-in-law is not alright. We have moved him to a nursing home, but he’s out of breath as soon as he tries to get out of bed. Eating and drinking and taking all of his medication on time is problematic. Hubbie visits him often.

Meanwhile, I’m back on the job market. I will be available as a management assistent, office manager or website editor in January. If you know someone who needs a personal assistent, I am qualified and I have a glowing letter of recommendation from my current manager. Here is my CV.

CV Ellen Roepert

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Sam hurt

After-larp-dip

Today, I’m just puttering around the house, putting clothes in the laundry, putting things back in the wardrobe, cleaning the floor. It’s the monday after a larp-weekend.

Friday, I helped get the groceries for 70 people: food, drinks, toiletpaper. We drove to Oosterhout near Breda and installed ourselves in Kamphuis Ahoy. We donned our costumes and spent two days in the fictional Barony of Marsilac, where I am Viscountess Ellenora. There was intrigue, magic, combat, mystery and drama. We went to sleep late at night, and had breakfast with pancakes and eggs at nine in the morning again. It was Rene and Anita’s last weekend as plotteam, and for the last time they gave us everything we asked for, careful what you wish for.

When it was all over yesterday, Remco and I left early to check on his father in the hospital. He’s fragile and not all there, but we might be able to move him to a nursing home later this week. Looking at him, holding his hands in mine, I can hardly contain my tears…

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

I don’t understand birthdays

It’s a very normal november day today. It’s chilly out, but it didn’t rain today. Trees are losing their leaves. Bimfoodle watches birds in the yard. I have a cold and I wish I could sleep and breathe at the same time.

I really don’t see why this day is special to anyone. Sure, I see the significance of this day 33 years ago to my parents. Sure, I understand that people care about me and want to let me know that they do. They can do that any day. I don’t feel like I deserve any gifts or cards or hugs because today is today. It’s just another day in november.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Thinking pose

Wedding and a funeral

My uncle funeral was last thursday. It gave me a lot of thoughts and ponderings about beliefs and values. Ask me about it sometimes, if you want to have an interesting allbeit serious conversation.

Today, I’m going to the wedding of a friend. I haven’t known her very long, she’s one of the new friends I’ve been making. My attention is shifting, away from my old boardgame friends who complain a lot about politics and work, away from the larpers who just want me to listen to their problems and agree with them, to people who really care about what I like and what goes on in my life. I’m glad and I feel fortunate to be able to distinguish between friend and acquaintance.

This will be the fifth wedding I go to this year. Only few people I know are still young and unmarried. It says something about my age, and what I’m supposed to be doing in life. I can’t count the amount of babies in my circle of acquaintances. And I don’t want to. Realising that I would have wanted a little blond flappy-eared Hubbie-clone still makes me cry. They are all moving on in life, with children and grandchildren, the way it’s meant to be. And I’m just stuck here, selfishly living for myself.

I’m going to wear my grey suit and a cloche hat. Because the bride loves hats and suits. I hope the weather will be nice to them. I hope to see a number of people I love today and give them hugs. I hope for many happy days to come.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

I love xkcd

Every new day is a miracle

My uncle passed away in his sleep. My aunt found him saturday morning. My father-in-law’s health is not well. These things happen, this is life. Every new day is a miracle and a nightmare of scary, painful and unkown things and beautiful, enjoyable wonders. All at the same time.

I want to enjoy more. I want to enjoy my father’s cooking. I want to cook for them. I want to take my mum to a museum. I want to spend time with people who make me smile and who allow me to cry. People who want to be with me whether I’m sad or happy.

I want to enjoy your presence and hear your ideas. I want to sit together and do nothing more than touch each other. Body and mind.

I may finally be learning this mindfulness thing…

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Sam hurt

as mondays go, this one was pretty crappy

We have again arrived at that time of year that my fingers and toes are perpetually cold. The train and the bus, when they're not cold too, are crowded and I have to stand a lot. Some people are just never pleased, no matter how hard I try. And my body has these little flaws and defects that hurt or make me run to the bathroom, but it's not bad enough to see the doctor. Oh, and Bimfoodle thought it was a good idea to bring me a heavily wounded but alive turtle dove.

On the bright side, because there's always a bright side, we have ordered a new comfy couch, I have Harvest Moon on my DS and plenty of time to play it on the train, I have made some new friends who make me very happy, my workplace is still a very nice place to be, and an oriental supermarket opened near us, where I can get all kinds of exotic goodness.
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Bimfoodle

thought of the day

I wrote a few posts here today, and I deleted some again. Because I was not honestly sharing. I was just looking for approval. I have been looking for approval for everything I do all of my life.

But the truth of the matter, my thought of the day, is:

I am a tree in the forest. I am here, blooming and silent. I do not need to make a sound, I do not need to fall over, I do not need anyone to notice me, in order to be real.

I’m still learning this lesson.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

waiting for daylight savings

The autumn weather has me all confused whether to wear a sweater or a T-shirt, and I hate standing at the busstop in the morning at eight in the dark. It’s that time of year again, I’m tired and cold and in need of hugs.

On the bright side: I feel welcome and needed at work, without undue stress. I’m the assistant to a manager who really cares about getting all the work done right, all the projects finished and financed, and the interim manager overseeing the reorganisation of our unit likes me to make his presentations and mood boards, and his coffee.

In other news: almost seventy people have signed up for Maerquin in November. It’s good to see the group of adventurers in Marsilac grow again, and I hope this will make Rene and Anita’s last event as organisors a memorable one. Me and Jørgen will try our very best to be dependable and available OC while living dangerously and challenging others IC.

But there’s still a few quiet weeks before Maerquin. Poor Bimfoodle can’t get used to living indoors now that we both have a job again. We try to console him with hugs in the evening. I swear he’s going to sit on my lap and let me hug him one of these days.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Reinstatement of the weekly

It’s been a while since I tried to reinstate the weekly. Not only that, yesterday I resolved to reinstate the weekly on mondays. You see I’m great at keeping promises I make to myself…

The new and improved weekly post may or may not include the following topics:

  • my thought of the day (thinking is a dangerous pastime, I know)
  • what I’ve been writing
  • what I’ve been playing
  • Bimfoodle

So, on that note:

I’ve been playing a lot of Guildwars 2. I absolutely love this game for so many reasons, I couldn’t possibly name them all. What? You want me to try anyway? Ok, here goes:

  • Guildwars 2 has no monthly fee. You simply buy the game and play as much or as little as you want. There is a possibility for micro-transactions, but only to obtain bonus or cosmetic items, you can play all you want and excel at the game without ever spending an extra cent in the in-game store.
  • It’s very pretty. The artwork has a brush stroke quality to it that perpetuates in the game’s menus and on the map.The grass moves when you stomp by in your combat boots. You leave tracks in the snow. And the footstep sounds in these two examples are beautifully different.
  • The game is detailed. Walking around villages and underwater caves and other places where humanoids live, I see books, campfires, bedrolls, graffiti, food and drink, endless detail. Of course there are NPCs who stand around doing the same thing all day, but most don’t. Most will turn to face you when you speak to them, most have voice-acting and dialogue options. Most will defend themselves when enemies attack, and many have silly banter and/or events that will make them talk to you and guide you to new places and new enemies.
  • The concept of hitting or missing works very well. In some games, this is a question of numbers, armor class, dodge chance, but not in Guildwars 2. Here, all attacks are area attacks. Differently shaped (arrows have a long, narrow area while melee weapons have a short, cone-shaped area), but still area attacks. If you’re in the area, you’ll get hit. If you manage to move out of the area, it misses. It’s that simple. (I once accidentally shot an owl that just flew by between me and a troll… Did I mention detail? There are owls in the woods, and other wildlife.)
  • The game doesn’t have a rigid class system. Your choice of class doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do x or can never do y. Every class is self-sufficient and capable of different roles. If you want to deal lots of direct damage with a melee weapon, you can do this in any class. Same story if you want to hang back and support others. Same story if you want to cast a lot of spells or do damage over time. I’ve never seen a game so versatile and simple at the same time.

Ok, fangirl out now. I’m off to level up.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

always look at the bright side

There’s an upside to my recent inability to relax: I’m getting things done. Household chores, things no one wants to do at work, planning ahead. I’m amazed at the amount of things I can suddenly do in one day.

There’s an upside to my new job consuming 32 hours of my time every week: my bank account is healthy, despite my spending spree at Castlefest.

There’s an upside to working in this entirely new branche, with very different people: I now have some perspective on why I was so unhappy at my previous job.

There’s an upside to travelling 40 minutes to work and 40 minutes back home again: it gives me time to clear my head.

There’s an upside to working with lots of part-time colleagues: they respect each other’s free time and applaud each other’s efforts to go home on time.

There’s an upside to working in a supportive role: people thank me all day long for everything I do.

There’s an upside to having lots of friends with busy schedules: I know all of the fun things I’m going to do with them, weeks in advance.

Life is not so bad…

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

the other shoe

The past few months have been so kind to me. My self-esteem and my acceptance for the world grew. My love-life makes me intensely happy. My family is alright and they love me. I found a new job before I ran out of money, and my new colleagues seem to be happy to have me around. I look at all this and I think to myself: “I should be happy.”

But I’m restless. I can hardly sleep past six in the morning, when the birds and the light beckon me to get busy. I have trouble concentrating on one task for more than an hour. Whenever I write something, say something, do something, I immediately realise that it’s not the best I ever did, but I just don’t know how to correct it. My memory is playing tricks on me; I forget the laundry in the machine again, and anything that happens with a delay. I even forget meetings with friends. Which makes me feel flaky and horrible.

Maybe flaky is what I do under pressure. Maybe I need to learn to relax again. Maybe I’m just trying to protect myself from disappointment, anxiously waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop and make my life a stressfull mess again.

Well, I’m open to ideas, what do you think?

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

there is no nice way to say no

I always let people talk me into things. This writing is not about me blaming them for forcing me. I genuinely think their ideas are better than mine, their feelings are more important than mine. When I go along with them, I am rewarded with smiles and they tell me how much they like me. When I say no, in any sort of way, no matter how small, they react negatively, I feel punished. And sometimes they try to convince me anyway, they don’t take my no as a valid answer.

I’m learning to say no to my husband first, but it leads to arguments and shouting. He tries so hard to be the perfect husband for me, he wants to find that place where I never need to say no. Too bad that place is an unattainable fantasy. Saying no when I want things to stop, when I change my mind, when I’m feeling bad, it’s part of life. I should have the space to do that.

Still it feels wrong to disagree with someone. Like I’m hurting their feelings. I’m learning to voice my disagreement and it feels horrible every step of the way. Friends give me flustered looks. I feel like I’m not allowed to decline nice things, like I’m not allowed to change my mind. Once I agree to come to your new year’s eve party, I have to come again every year. Once I have been your friend for a few years, I can’t decide that we have little in common and stop calling you. I have to slither and back out of these things like a horrible person. Because if I ever found the courage to say “No thanks, I just don’t want you in my life right now” I would be the bad guy. There is no nice way to say no.

So I still let people talk me into things. And I take full blame. I choose to bend and change to accomodate others. Sometimes I even do it consciously. Because I’m still too afraid. After all these years, after all this work, I’m still too afraid to stand my ground. I’m still too afraid to be “not nice”, even for a second.

Sometimes, I test it, in public. I do small things. I don’t move over when other people want me to. I ask them to move aside for me. It never works. I always get pushed around and sometimes I even get shouted at.

So I give in. I let people talk me into things. My need to hear people tell me how nice I am, is somehow still greater than my need to be respected.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Sinfest Girl

and then, out of nowhere…

I have a job! They want me to start on monday.

It’s a challenge and they were upfront about that. But I could just see the HR manager’s eyes light up as I answered questions about myself. They have high expectations of me. Let’s do this!

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Happiness

The world is full of suffering. Our lives are short and what with all the pressure we feel from society, from our peers and our family, finding happiness in life is a challenge. Hard work or fighting the good fight can bring fulfilment, but I think everyone also deserves to sit their ass down sometimes and just be happy with themselves.

Happiness is not a goal you can strive for, it’s not a prize waiting for you at the finish line. Many people tell themselves things like “If I just lose fifty pounds, if my career takes off, if I find true love, I will be happy.” And I have seen too many of these people be disappointed.

Our society teaches us that doubt and critical thinking, perfectionism, can help us make things so much better. Don’t settle for mediocrity, you too deserve greatness. But the thought of “Is this good enough?” can be crippling.

I’ve found out that happiness is a state of mind, an active thinking process of contentment and fulfilment about who you are and where you are in life. It includes an acceptance of all the imperfections of life and human beings, the ability to see past all that and bask in your own glory and beauty. I think I can do it, and I think you can too.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Geluk is…

…met chocola en frisdrank samen onder een dekentje TV-kijken.

…lepeltje-liggen terwijl je moe bent en eigenlijk weet dat je zo niet in slaap kunt vallen, maar het ligt gewoon zo lekker.

…die grijns op zijn gezicht als ik hem bij zijn koosnaampje noem.

…het geluid van een spinnende kat die kopjes geeft tegen mijn elleboog.

…je realiseren dat, ook al ben je nu volwassen, samen spelen heel erg leuk is.

…even alles zijn beloop laten, want het komt wel goed.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Pinkdress

Approval

When I was young and insecure, I craved the approval of others. I felt like I had no frame of reference and I needed others to tell me whether I was doing things right, whether I was a good person. Looking around for the approval of others in this society has taught me one very important thing:

When a young woman has an opinion (no matter how valid or personal) men will call her naive. When a young woman disagrees with a man, she is wrong. When she insists, she is emotional and probably on her period. When she becomes angry, she is a bitch. And when she says no, she will be ignored.

Some women became vocal feminists because of this. Not me. I was too scared of conflict. I grew silent. I wanted approval, so I smiled and did what was expected of me. I carefully reworded my opinions to try to convince people I was worth listening to, and not as emotional as other women. I found insidious ways to avoid saying no to anything. Sometimes I manipulated and lied to avoid no, and sometimes I sucked it up and let people walk all over me. Neither technique made me happy.

It took me a long time to understand that it wasn't my fault. That the people who don't approve of me being who I am don't matter. That I can be a good person without their approval. That I am a good person despite anyone who disagrees. Even if I love several people. Even if I like sex. Even if I have a voluptuous body and no intention to change that. Even if I like to sometimes be grumpy and sometimes nice. Even if I believe there's good in every person. Even if I believe my own observations over scientific proof. Even if I say no to you because of my feelings right now.

These are things that define me. And unfortunately, my need for other people's approval is still here. It's going to take a while for my confidence to grow. So if you believe in me, please bear with me.
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Bimfoodle

Lan & Nath

Lan's back prevented him from coming with me to Charm. But not from gifting me with peace, confidence and his power amulet.

We walked to the lost and found station in Schiedam to get his wallet back and we had pizza in bed while watching cartoons. On friday, we leisurely got out of bed at one and I arrived at Charm only minutes before Hubbie did.

I hope he'll feel better soon. I will most definitely be fine.

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Me

Mold

I am a product of my upbringing. I have been conditioned my entire life to be a good, friendly girl who smiles and does as she is told. It’s rude to say no, it’s rude not to smile, so I have endured being used and put down with a smile.

I wasn’t shy as a child. My flustered smiling is a learned habit. Speaking up when a bully said something mean got me in trouble. Speaking up when someone made me uncomfortable was rude. Speaking up when men commented on my looks got me in even more trouble. There have been many times in my life where I wished I was invisible. But I am tall, blonde and busty, and many people seem to want things from me.

Until my late twenties, I was that good girl the world told me I should be. I thought that if I would just try to fit into that box, life would sort itself out. If I just changed myself, ignored the parts that didn’t fit, the mold would become comfortable at some point, and I’d be a happy mommy like everyone wanted me to be. Then I woke up and realized how unhappy I was.

In the past years, many people have helped me realize that life is a journey of self-discovery. That I have something to teach and inspire in others. That I have a right to feel what I feel, to think in my own way. I feel liberated, as if the mold has broken and fallen off.

So here I am, naked in the sunlight for the first time. Without the mold, I’m not quite sure what shape I am. But I’m curious to find out.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Amelie

Not a baroness

We had a continuous Maerquin adventure this weekend, with hardly any sleep. I love Maerquin because the team makes sure there is plenty to do for every kind of player, and not every plot can be solved by using foam rubber violence.

My characters often gravitate towards the “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” trope, the woman that must not be crossed, passionate, opinionated and painfully honest. I spend a lot of my time at larps argueing with people, loudly calling them horrible things, and then later making up again, with real tears. It’s cathartic in many ways, because I’m such a people-pleaser in real life.

Ellenora was a reluctant noblewoman, ran away from home when her parents’ expectations were too high, married an impulsive adventurer, and then the country exploded into war. She put on her big girl dress and shouldered the weight, believing in peace and trying to be an inspiration to others. Fighting on the frontline against the forces that threatened her people, she even helped assassinate the noble who would lead her people even further into ruin.

She worked so hard, gave everything, did only the right thing and asked nothing in return. And then her people kicked her out. They didn’t want a baroness, they wanted a council of the people. And the people voted that Ellenora should be kicked out of her own country, because she hadn’t supported them enough.

My character is depressed now, Ellenora is quite capable of drinking herself into a stupor and/or attempt suicide. It’s a little hard to separate that from my own feelings, but once done, I realize this is a beautiful story. A realistic story of humans being human: cruel, naïve, idealistic, bitter, strongwilled, flawed. Beautiful.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Larp

milestone

It was in 2001 that I used to spend my free evenings hanging out in a bar with a bunch of fantasy nerds. One of them was a wonderful story-teller, I spent hours listening to him recounting the plot of the Wheel of Time books as if he had been there himself. And I thought to myself: “This is why I want to write fantasy. Because one day, I want to be in a room and hear someone passionately tell a story that I wrote as if it had happened to them.”

Today, I walk through a room in a daze. Around me, everyone is excitedly telling each other the secrets, intrige, and dramatic moments they have seen in the past 48 hours at Lang Leve de Koning. And on my mind is only this one thought: “None of this would have happened without me.”

An impression of Lang Leve de Koning:

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

heavy

Him: “I wish I could make everything less heavy on you.”
Me: “The world is heavy. I think I have been trying to lift it. By myself. No wonder I’m so tired and I feel like I can’t do what I set out to do. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling so inadequate about it. Sorry that I cried and argued with you. Thanks for loving me.”

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Bimfoodle

Is feeling much better, btw. Not because he got the right medication, mind you. Just the right vet. Who takes us seriously as intelligent and well-meaning owners, who trusts us with giving the right amount of medication correctly, and giving him all the information he needs to diagnose the problem.

Bimfoodle coat is again glossy black and his urine looks normal now. The house is quiet and back to normal again.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Story

Notes on this Maerquin weekend

This week, Maerquin is on my mind. I’ve just woken up from endlessly dreaming about the adventures we had this weekend. and I simply must write about it, or it will haunt me for weeks. So, excuse me.

Ellenora’s aantekeningen

Ik aanvaard volledige verantwoordelijkheid voor de dood van Isabella von Strahd. Zij was als een zuster voor mij, beiden beschermd opgevoed door strenge vaders die hoge verwachtingen van ons hadden. Ik aanvaard ook de verantwoordelijkheid voor het volk van Zepultoera, en ik wil iedereen die zich nog Zepultoeraan wil noemen, oproepen terug te keren naar Ten Vorsel en Siloportem, zodat wij kunnen beginnen aan de wederopbouw van ons verwoeste land. Wij zijn niet in de positie om hulp te weigeren, of nieuwe vijanden te maken. Daarom zullen wij Marsilac verlaten met slechts onze eigen bezittingen, en de lichamen van onze overleden vrienden.

Het is mijn intentie om een nieuwe wet in te voeren in Zepultoera: de Wet van de Natuurlijke Dood. Annmarack is als God de enige met het recht om te beslissen wie er wanneer hoe sterft. Wij stervelingen kunnen dat niet. Eenieder in Zepultoera die een moord begaat of een andere misdaad, zal worden geketend in de Tempel van Vergiffenis, die ik laat bouwen, alwaar zij zullen bidden tot de Goden hen een teken van vergeving schenken door hun ketenen af te laten vallen.

Ook wil ik oprichten in Siloportem, de Orde van Claudius, waar kennis van alle soorten zal worden verzameld en opgeslagen, toegankelijk voor eenieder die nieuwe kennis wil opdoen of delen. En de Orde van Aurelia, soldaten die zullen strijden voor de bescherming van het leven en de onschuld, en die nimmer hun wapen als eerste zullen opheffen.

Dan wil ik ook nog laten bouwen, naast nieuwe huizen en landerijen voor de inwoners van Zepultoera, het Weeshuis van Alle Kleuren, vlak aan de grens met Marsilac. Daar zal eenieder die zich ontheemd en eenzaam voelt, jong of oud, ongeacht van rang of stand, welkom zijn te verblijven, zolang zij meewerken aan het verbouwen en klaarmaken van het voedsel.

Het is mijn intentie dat Marsilac en Zepultoera een vreedzame tijd tegemoet gaan, waarin wij een nieuw vertrouwen kunnen opbouwen, zodat er veilig gereisd en gehandeld kan worden tussen beide baroniën. Het is mijn mening dat wij allen teveel hebben geleden onder de aanvallen van de Zwarte Graaf, en dat wij nu allen rust en vrede hebben verdiend. En ook aan elkaar zijn verschuldigd.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Bimfoodle

What’s on my mind this week? My poor black cat is. He has had a bladder infection for weeks. His howling tells me it’s painful. So he tries to pee in many different places, to see if it hurts less. Some of the drops of pee are red.

My vet said it’s stress, after two treatments with antibiotics (five days each) nothing has changed and my cat is still in pain. He can’t find any bladderstones or bacterial infection, so it must be stress.

So this afternoon, I’m taking Bim to another vet. I can’t just sit here and wait for it to go away while he is obviously in pain. There must be something that will bring relief. Painkillers, something the other vet overlooked. There is something making him pee blood, ffs! Don’t tell me it’s stress. Stress does not make you pee blood.

So, I’ll keep you posted…

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Reinstatement of the weekly post

I really want to go back to writing something about my life every week, but I feel uncomfortable writing here about where I’m going all the time. So instead of telling you about what’s on my to do list, I’ve resolved to write about what’s on my mind every week.

So, what is on my mind?

Not a whole lot. Or at least that’s my goal. I have been overthinking everything a lot lately. So, my resolve for this week is to enjoy the moment. Loosen up. Tell my loved ones sweet little nothings and make them laugh.

Not everything has to make sense. I don’t need my thinky brain all the time. Especially when I’m trying to be happy.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Storytelling

I recently discovered this interesting initiative by a German university to start teaching massively multi-user online courses. Free education for anyone who is interested. And the course that interested me most, was of course the one about storytelling.

It has inspired me to continue with that story I tried to write last year, the Cursecaster. I think I’ve figured out why I was stuck and what to do now. A bit of worldbuilding is in order…

I might post extracts from the story here as it progresses.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Thinking pose

Acceptance

Like I wrote in this post, I believe we go through most of our life feeling somehow inadequate and incomplete. I look around and I see many people trying to solve that feeling. They promise themselves that one day they’ll be happy and perfect, if only…

…they were beautiful. Many people believe that all their problems will be solved somehow when they overcome their physical flaws, by dieting or surgery for example. Kate Harding once wrote an essay called “The Fantasy of Being Thin” that explains why hoping that your life will be all better when you’ve lost that weight can be such a disappointing quest.

…they were loved. Another big group of people believe that their life will be complete and perfect when they find true love. Elizabeth Gilbert explains in this video we shouldn’t expect others to complete us:

Make me feel complete… That is far too complex a problem to be solved by changing one’s physique, and it is far too much responsibility to just expect someone else to be able to do it for you. It can’t be solved by buying nice things, by a list of impressive achievements, and it certainly will not be solved by having high expectations of your children. You cannot burden them with your feelings of inadequacy, believe me, they will have their own.

I spend a lot of time explaining where it doesn’t come from. Because people are always looking in all the wrong places. It seems that the hardest thing to do, is to look at ourselves, accept the flaws we have, and believe that we are perfect and complete and beautiful anyway. Do not place your hope on outside forces, when the answer lies within.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

steady as she goes

I’m still here, still unemployed, still not writing, still keeping busy. Emotionally I’m good. I’m thankful for all the good things in my life. My friends who call me and break through the silence, the people who appreciate the work I’m putting into this new larp we’ve been working on with Badger’s Business, thank you. I’m still a happy person, overall.

The work for our larp “Lange Leve de Koning” is piling up. The other day I was at a plotmeet, and my partners were explaining the mechanics of the royal succession to me. I had to take their word for it, it looks solid, but I certainly can’t keep score. I felt thankful that they are organising this thing with me, that I can trust in their know-how.

We were going over some backgrounds together, tying all of the loose ends together, connecting players to each other, and I managed to connect and reproduce details from backgrounds by heart. Inge smiled at me and said she was glad for that gift I have for being able to remember all of the players’ stories like that.

Players message me on facebook, telling me how they’re looking forward to the day in December when we can all don our costumes and enter this world of my creation, play out this scenario of my invention. It’s humbling to see how they’re enjoying this so much already.

The reality of organising a larp is, from my point of view, a lot of text, a lot of emailing, a lot of communication, explaining, editing and trying to retain information. A lot of reminding, a lot of agreeing and then adding new things to the story. Other people do beautiful things like crafting and costuming, and I admire them for it. I do a lot of running around, telling others how it should be, how much money we can spend, and worrying whether I didn’t forget anything.

On the weekend, I will be giving a lot of directions, and speeches, I’ll be organising information, trying to not freak out, and then freak out anyway. I will be told to eat something, drink something, go to sleep, and I probably won’t. I’ll try to enjoy watching my plot unfurl, watching the players do their thing, and try to anticipate. When it’s all over and done, I’ll say thank you and coordinate the cleaning up.

It seems like a lot of work. But just reading the backgrounds already makes it so worthwile. The players put so much trust in us, they write these stories, they dig their own graves, write their own legacy, and they trust us with that. They trust us to make it into an awesome story, a weekend they won’t easily forget, with drama, confrontation and death. Thank you. I hope I can live up to those expectations.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

redecorating

I have decided I want to do some redecorating, but you guys know me. Power tools and me, it’s very hazardous. So here’s my request: if any of you want to help me hang some lamps, drapes and other ornaments from the walls and ceilings of my house, please let me know. I have all the tools, I’m just afraid to use them. Let’s pick a date and I’ll make you yummies in return.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

Love and jealousy

Romance in pop culture sometimes makes me very sad. Every so often, a romance story is about cheating on each other, about jealousy. “How can it be true that you love me if you say “I love you” to someone else?” The stories with this trope often end in break-ups because there can be only one. It makes me sad and I’ll tell you a very personal story to explain why.

Most of you know that I do live roleplay in my free time. A few years ago, after my warrior-woman character died at Maerquin, I started to play a damsel in distress. And I met Nachtvisser, who played the knight who saved me. Our characters fell in love, and frankly so did we.

You know I’m married. Me and my hubbie, we’re a team. I hope to be with him for many years to come, I want to be there to feed him icecream with a teaspoon when we’re both senile and shaky. Nevertheless, I fell in love with Nachtvisser, who has a happy family with two children.

We talked about it. A lot. We resolved that our characters would have their romance and get married, and outside the game we would just be friends. It was an elegant solution.

I am a flutterheart, this was neither the first time, nor the last that another person than my husband made my heart beat faster. A flutter of the heart is no reason to trust each other less, my hubbie said to me. It doesn’t make him jealous and it doesn’t make me unfaithful. Because at the end of the day, he still knows everything about me, he is still the man of my life.

And that is why the “How can it be true that you love me if you say “I love you” to someone else?” -trope makes me sad. Because trust and forgiveness are stronger than jealousy. Because the heart is not a thing made of glass that can be broken, or stolen or given away only once. I believe love is stronger than that.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

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Hammy

I haz a sad

I really need to stop questioning my decision to write every time I receive a rejection letter. But I can’t help it. I worked so hard on this, and they still don’t want it…

Tell me Mr Gaiman, Ms Rowling, Ms McMaster-Bujold, tell me how to not take rejections personally. Tell me how to continue believing this is still the best book I ever wrote. Tell me how to keep trying instead of retreating into a corner, wallowing in the knowledge that I just suck.

*holds up sign: will write for hugs*

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Thinking pose

Intelligent Egoist

There is this book called Words from the Heart in which the Dalai Lama says something like: “Be kind to others, because they will respect you more, and that will benefit you. Even if you are an egoist, you should at least be an intelligent egoist, and be kind to others.”

I read an article the other day in a Dutch newspaper called NRC about altruism. I was written by a psychiatrist and it argued that altruism is a façade. It doesn’t exist. Charity, health care, family. In the end, we always benefit. She quotes Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene and the above quote from the Dalai Lama. It made me think.

If an act benefits us, is automatically a selfish act? I have wondered about this before, a few months ago, I pondered the question: Is the search for enlightenment a selfish quest?

I believe firmly in the Rule of Three: whatever you put out into the world, be it positive or negative, it will return to you, threefold. This one is similar to the idea of karma, or the advice of Confucius to only do onto others what you would have them do to you. Basically, what they’re saying is: be a good person, and you will be rewarded.

Is it selfish to be rewarded? To enjoy the fruits of your labour and the gifts given freely to you? Or is it simply wrong of us to feel guilty about being selfish? Why is selfish a bad word, when it implies taking good care of ourselves? Do other people not benefit when we take good care of ourselves? Is altruism really about destroying oneself for the benefit of others? Because if that’s the case, I prefer to be an intelligent egoist.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

busy times

I could write down the same thing here every week. I’m still looking for a job, still keeping my house clean, visiting friends from time to time, happy with my Hubbie, trying to get that novel published, excited by some videogame that allows me to make a strong female character, busy with our Lang Leve de Koning! larp plans, thinking too much about the meaning of life and what I am doing here.

A few times I thought about writing something here, and it turned out to be a depressing train of thought, about my outlook on life, or about human nature in general. Once, it turned out to be a very vague story about reiki and the balance of the universe. And I almost wrote a fangirling piece about a game I have already lost interest in again.

I try to think before I post, too many people don’t, and it has happened to me too many times as well. If you have nothing useful to add, better not say anything at all.

I am well, and I am busy.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Larp

Lang Leve de Koning!

It first dawned on me when I wrote a new CV a few weeks ago. I have experience organising events. Events where thirty people or more sleep, eat and play together for three consecutive days. And most of those events were a success thanks to the organisers, thanks to me.

It’s not just something that looks good on my CV, it’s something I’ve enjoyed doing immensely. But this time, it’s different. This is the first time that I can call the plot “My Plot”. I may have handled finances, food and organising stuff before, but this is the first time that the story is mine. Not entirely mine. I could never do this without Anastaszia and Erwinl. But it’s mine nonetheless.

One post on facebook and I get five new sign-ups. We have more than fourty seriously interested people. For our event in December. I am astonished and humbled. But I have to roll up my sleeves and get to work. Write more plot.

If you’re interested in what this is all about (and you can read Dutch): Lang Leve de Koning!

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Thinking pose

Hollow

When I was a child, there were a lot of albums of the Police lying around the house. This song made me think, the other day.

It describes a feeling I think everyone feels. Something is broken, “missing from my life”, and we spend a lot of time trying to fix it, trying to fill the hole. The Oatmeal wrote a comic about it the other day. I think we are all constantly trying to silence our demons of fear, doubt, regret and general blerchness. The Oatmeal runs marathons. I have tried to fill the hole with sex, with videogames and roleplay, with writing stories about people trying to fill the hole, and even by trying to help others battle their demons. Everyone looks for ways to conquer the void.

We just can’t. Nothing we do ever makes us truly happy. Contentment and peace are fleeting somehow, despite the invention of a number of belief-systems designed to find peace within ourselves. Despite all of the things we try. We remain inadequate human beings.

I have a theory that we come from a place of eternal perfection. Then, we are born into this world of beauty and misery to go on some kind on journey, to learn something. And upon death, we return with whatever we learned. Some religions describe something similar to my theory. But they often judge us, working with concepts like “good” and “evil”, being good will lead us to enlightenment or heaven, being bad will damn us to hell.

I don’t believe in that. I have never met a person with truly bad intentions. Sure, as a group, we do unspeakable things. There is evil in peer pressure, in mobs and in organisations. But not in people. We are all just misguided, troubled, foolish humans, looking for a way to fill the hole.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Bimfoodle

It’s time for me to get on my soapbox

I’m worried about what people do on the internet. Not because the internet is for porn. Porn is fun, if it’s made by consenting adults. What I’m worried about is that the internet seems to be for trolls.

I’m talking about the toxic language of comments on youtube and of tweets. The rules of basic human decency simply do not seem to apply. The other day, the woman who won Wimbledon was called all kinds of nasty things on twitter because some people don’t think she’s pretty. People tweeted things I’m sure they would never dare to say out loud, directly @ a woman who has just demonstrated that she’s a top-athlete. What is this thing about sitting safely behind a computer that makes people feel entitled to say unacceptable things like that?

You all know I love to play MMORPGs. I was online in such a game the other day when the chat channel turned ugly. Someone made a bunch of nasty remarks, including a rape joke, about people who could not play the game very well. And I raised my voice asking: “Is it acceptable to be mean to someone with inferior skills? Does that entitle you to call them names and make fun of them?” and I was met with crickets, blank stares and three smug “Yes, of course!” answers.

This is why I recently signed the Gamers against Bigotry pledge and I’m a little disappointed at the small number of other who have done the same. People need to become more aware that the internet is a community made up of people, people whose feelings can be hurt, and who deserve to be treated with respect.

I’m going to leave you with Jimmy Kimmel, who is trying to show us that the mean things people say on twitter do have impact, by showing us celebrities reading what people tweet about them.

Originally published at my website. You can comment here or there.

Candid Opinions

It's time to get on my soapbox

I'm worried about what people do on the internet. Not because the internet is for porn. Porn is fun, if it's made by consenting adults. What I'm worried about is that the internet seems to be for trolls.

I'm talking about the toxic language of comments on youtube and of tweets. The rules of basic human decency simply do not seem to apply. The other day, the woman who won Wimbledon was called all kinds of nasty things on twitter because some people don't think she's pretty. People tweeted things I'm sure they would never dare to say out loud, directly @ a woman who has just demonstrated that she's a top-athlete. What is this thing about sitting safely behind a computer that makes people feel entitled to say unacceptable things like that?

You all know I love to play MMORPGs. I was online in such a game the other day when the chat channel turned ugly. Someone made a bunch of nasty remarks, including a rape joke, about people who could not play the game very well. And I raised my voice asking: "Is it acceptable to be mean to someone with inferior skills? Does that entitle you to call them names and make fun of them?" and I was met with crickets, blank stares and three smug "Yes, of course!" answers.

This is why I recently signed the Gamers against Bigotry pledge and I'm a little disappointed at the small number of other who have done the same. People need to become more aware that the internet is a community made up of people, people whose feelings can be hurt, and who deserve to be treated with respect.

I'm going to leave you with Jimmy Kimmel, who is trying to show us that the mean things people say on twitter do have impact, by showing us celebrities reading what people tweet about them.
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