Unrequited Loves

Lynn,

You asked me the other day if you'll ever find love. Well, I'm here to tell you...I don't know. As I think about love, a few things come to mind: I’ve felt love given, I’ve felt love lost, and I’ve felt love shared. Right now, the only love in my life is the love shared between my family, friends, and you. I…hope that there is one great love waiting for you. I hope that you meet, and you don't have to add that meeting as another loss.

The first time I felt love was in junior high. In young teen fashion, I wanted attention from the boys I had crushes on. It’s worth mentioning that not a single word was exchanged between me and a single one of these boys. Oh, but so many conversations in my head. I remembered the exact time in between certain classes that we would pass each other in the hallway. Always excited to see them, I only hoped they would glance back. If I wasn’t so frightfully shy at the time, I would have said something. I thought they were so cool—surely they had the confidence to approach me if…I…stared at them. Now I know they were probably oblivious to my existence--or knew I was the crazy girl that stared daggers at them as I crossed their paths. Sometimes at night when I went to bed, I would think about my crushes. I would think about us being on an island together or at a dance or at my wedding. My gorgeous self and all these boys starring in various scenarios where they fought over me. I was invisible in real life, but I was the center of attention in my (I promise: innocent in nature) dreams.

Back in those days, the only attention I received from boys and most girls was generally mean. I don't know why. I don't know why the boys in middle school were so disgusted by me. I knew the other girls were prettier, but was I so awful? Granted, I possessed some goofy features. I had a wide gap in my two front teeth--so wide that kids would gesture a field goal at me in reference to the space. I felt so ugly back then that when I received compliments I didn't know they came from a good place. People remarking I had long eye lashes caused me to cut them all off. I received so few compliments from my peers that I didn't know it came from a good place. I thought I had to eliminate the good because that wasn't me.

How depraved, huh? That was junior high for me, feeling invisible among hundreds of my peers. I had a couple friends, not to make you think I was a complete outcast. Outside those select friends and my family, the only thing that kept me company were the characters in video games. I was attached to those games because they were fun, and—I think—because they gave me a meaningful role in the stories.

In high school, I started to garner attention from some boys. I hung out after school with kids that I met through my job at Lifetime Fitness. They went to a neighboring high school and didn’t have the faintest idea of my reputation at my school. These were the cool kids: smoking, drinking, getting into the mischief warned about in teen dramas. I had fun hanging out with them, but they didn’t really know me. I had a few boys express interest in…whatever they had interest in. I won’t play coy and say I didn’t make out with a few of them, but I felt completely out of my element. 

There was one boy, Bill, who had similar interests to mine. He was funny, played sports, and liked video games. I would go over to his house to chat and play our shared hobby. We even double-teamed Zelda II: The Adventure of Link and managed to beat it together. Soon he started to express interest in that thing I didn’t understand: intimacy. Bill and I usually hung out in his parents' basement. One day he brought me up to his bedroom when his parents weren’t home. He wanted to show off his water bed (good lord) and did so by throwing me onto it and landing on top of me. Not only was his action jarring, but a waterbed is the floppiest surface to try and get your bearings on. I remember trying to climb out as he groped my body and wrestled with my flailing limbs. Once I got on stable land, I told him to never do that again, running back to the basement (my safe space?). We had been hanging out for weeks, so this was probably the next step for him. Don't get me wrong: I’m not trying to paint him in bad light. He had previously dropped MANY hints of his interest, his intent. I remember one night as we talked on the phone, he asked me to go outside to look at the moon. It illuminated the sky’s dark veil so brightly. Bill told me that he wished we were looking at it together instead of over the phone. Those sweet words were lost on me. That’s the example I remember, although I’m sure there were other hints. I bet the waterbed fiasco was his last-ditch effort. She doesn’t get the conversational hints, but she won’t be able to ignore the physical hint of my sexy bed! We stopped hanging out soon thereafter. I acted too cold toward him; he finally gave up. I look back and wonder if I wasn’t so closed off to intimacy, maybe we would have ended up together.

I think the one time I truly felt (unrequited) love was during a toxic relationship—my last serious relationship. Merv and I started out much in the way I imagine a great love should. We wanted to spend all our time together; we grew close in a short amount of time. Those whirlwind emotions quickly decayed the first time our expectations differed. I don’t want to focus on those details, but constant fights and disagreements plagued the majority of our relationship. I found myself compromising my feelings, my instincts, to appease him. One night after dinner, Merv walked me to my car. We had been dating about one year at this point. As we stood outside chatting, I felt anxious. I felt anxious to become something that we weren’t and would never be. After one year, I felt that this shit-storm was what I deserved. This was the relationship I chose and I should see it through, no matter how broken I felt as a person. I was no longer myself. I was a shadow that lived to please someone that didn’t accept me. As we stood outside my car, I told Merv “I love you.” I never forced three words out of my lips so reluctantly. He smiled and said, “Oh! That’s nice, Katie,” and laughed...and laughed. I immediately wanted to take the words back. I wanted them back to ease the sick feeling in my gut. Merv told me that he wasn’t ready through chuckles and declarations of how cute and simple I was. He stated that he wouldn’t be ready until he knew he was with the woman he saw himself spending the rest of his life with. OK. That’s fair. You can’t be sure after one year that you’re with "the one." I also didn’t know if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. But I wanted to feel something after one year. I felt terrible.

When I got home that evening, I wrote him a note. As much as I want to edit this—forget about this shame--I will leave it as is:

…I don't feel anger. Sadness, maybe. I knew you wouldn't be ready. And still, I said it…

You know, there were many times that I knew, and a few times that I doubted. 

I realized it is love after tonight, because I can wait for you. It's worth it to me. I don't need you to reciprocate. If I felt I needed that to justify my feelings, well, they're not strong to begin with, you know? I do hope I earn your love one day, because unrequited love is...well, better than indifference. But it will grow lonely with time.

And yes, notice I say the word love, because it's not "the word that should not be spoken.” It should be told, again and again because there's not enough in the world to hold it back. I know you. I know that you put a lot of value into words. That the word love is worth so much that you've never given it to anyone. And I want that for you. I want you to realize that it's not a word that has power. It’s a word crafted by experiences, feelings, gestures, moments, actions, sacrifices, and many more words than just that one.

Sweet words, huh? Except the earning his love part—that’s sad for me to read. Two weeks later, I broke up with him. My feelings were very confused—to go from a devoted message to completely severing ties. For all the effort I put into the relationship, I hoped for reciprocation. I hoped for all those things that love meant to me. But he couldn’t give them to me. For so long I waited. I convinced myself after so much emotional abuse** that if I gave him the word maybe his actions would change. Things returned to their usual up ‘n’ down state, and I finally decided to leave him.

After a heated conflict over our shared possessions, I went over to Merv’s place to pick up my stuff. He worked on a last-ditch effort to win me back by saying he didn’t know how to love, but he was learning with me. I guess he forgot about the entire last year of our relationship where I tried to progress, and he resisted or shamed me for trying to commit in more meaningful ways to each other. We never spoke again.

I love my family, my friends, and I believe that love is real. I have dated off and on since then, but never seriously. I think I needed to find my place in the world. Find a place where I love myself. So perhaps the greatest love in this story is not the boys in junior high or the jerks too selfish to understand. Perhaps the greatest love in our lives is to ourselves. I’ve gone through many trials over the past several years, but I believe I’m close to loving who I am—no shame, no imagination, no waiting—just me. 

Lynn, find yourself first. Once you find love within yourself, maybe finding love without won't be so hopeless.

With love,
Katie

Mario and the Errpig Trifecta

Unlike time-traveling history games, Mario has been featured in a few different RPG spin-offs over the years. In 1995, Square shepherded in what I consider one of the best video games of all time: Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars (hereafter called SMRPG). There was never a true sequel, but two other series emerged from the void left by SMRPG: the Paper Mario and Mario & Luigi series. I kept up with the Paper Mario series as it closely resembled SMRPG, but I neglected the Mario & Luigi series until the past year. What would cause a Mario RPG fan to ignore a string of games for so long? I'm sure being most studious in college was related. Let's dig deeper. Let's start where the Mario RPG affair began.

Back in 1995, I was at the pinnacle of my coloring within the lines ability. I entered a coloring contest for the movie Far From Home: The Adventures of Yellow Dog at Orland Video—a local Blockbuster of sorts. A few weeks later, my entry won the grand prize of either a new dog (Yellow Dog?!) or 100 free rentals at Orland Video. Since my family was already boasting a limit of two with the dogs Maggie and Ginger, my mom sent the new dog to the pound. I'm kidding! What do you think—my mom is a monster? We chose the rentals instead. Initially I was disappointed with the choice, and then I realized Orland Video had a video game section. That coveted section my mom deterred me from during each trip. I had a better chance browsing the back room than the game row. But this newfound power to rent whatever I wanted was mine thanks to sensational crayon-wielding skills. My days outside were numbered, and my family was at the whim of free rentals being held over their head. "Katie, can we please rent While You Were Sleeping?" they asked. I allowed it. Sandra Bullock was a delight—congenially speaking—and I needed rides to the store.

These rentals were a great opportunity to check out games that were outside my library: Doom, Mega Man X, Kirby Super Star, Mario is Missing!, and more. (Postmortem for Mario is Missing!: "Let's cut our losses have Luigi investigate mansions instead.") Through all these trials, there was one game on shelf that I rented over and over again: Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars. I...adored that game. I remember playing through it over and over again. I searched every nook, cranny, and monster fanny to ensure I experienced everything the world had to offer. You know what's cool when you're 10? Hanging out at Grate Guy's Casino. You know what's cooler when you're 10? Dreaming of hustling Toads for frog coins.

At the end of my 100 rentals, I rented SMRPG approximately 20 times. My rental total exceeded the cost of purchasing the game, and somehow I didn't know what RPG meant. I pronounced it “errpig” for...some time. I appealed to the clerk to give me Super Mario Errpig based on my feat, and to protect my precious save files. I was sent away and never saw that cartridge again...

(I have since acquired another cartridge of SMRPG, but the game was impossible to find at the end of the Super Nintendo generation.) 

I moved on (no, I didn't) and played whatever game I was given for Christmas or my birthday. A couple years later and convinced I had a game addiction, my mom cut me off. (My mom is a monster!) That decision marked the beginning of a dark era. I needed to independently fuel my habit somehow. Being a 12-year-old with few profitable skills besides coloring within lines, I had no choice but to get out on the streets. I went door to door with my "Babysitter for Hire" signs and procured a few clients. Strategically chosen by the size of their homes, surely these people splurged on the latest and greatest toys for their kids. They all had one thing in common...that one system I wanted so badly: the Nintendo 64. I probably babysat their kids, I absolutely played their video games, and I got closer to my goal of raising $300 for a Nintendo 64. 

About every six months I was able to buy a new game on my babysitting funds. My dad—seeing how motivated I was by my hobby—would surprise me with a new game on my birthday or Christmas. On one occasion, my dad and I were driving home from the grocery store and he says, "Hey, can you look in the glove box and grab something for me?" I popped it open and a mysterious, colorful box dropped onto my lap: Paper Mario. Now remember, at the turn of the millennium, we were at the whim of the AOL overlords, dial-up, and kids had rules about being in front of a screen with internet access for a reasonable amount of time. I did not know what Paper Mario was–the spiritual successor to Mario Paint? Reading the back of the box, I discovered it was an errpig like SMRPG. I ran with the surprise game up to my room and dropped the Paper Mario cartridge in my Nintendo 64 so hard Square felt the money slip through their fingers.  

Much like its predecessor, at its core Paper Mario was a traditional RPG with action, puzzle, stealth (you're a real solid snake, Peach), and platforming elements. I was once again immersed in an expansive and unique game world, filled with interesting characters, an entertaining battle system, beautiful music (Shooting Star Summit!), challenging levels, clever puzzles, and all set to an epic story where Mario collects Star Spirits to save his dearly kidnapped.  

A few years later, a new Mario RPG game entered the scene: Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga (hereafter called MLSS). I played it over Christmas break during my Freshman year of college. And I finally beat the game 13 years later this past weekend. What's with the delay? What happened to that Mario RPG passion? Well, I'm going back through my game library, finding those games that I started, and ultimately left behind. Sort of like a "no game left behind" act, but one that's wholly and honestly effective. 

Here are my thoughts on MLSS.

Story: Princess Peach greets ambassadors from the Beanbean Kingdom, only to fall victim to their ruse. Her voice stolen and replaced with explosive emoticons—it's up to Mario and Luigi to retrieve her voice. Traversing Beanbean Kingdom leads the Mario Bros. to a cola factory, a spooky school, an airport, even a Mushroom Kingdom immigrant’s community. A very eclectic set of destinations each with its own unique inhabitants. The story was fun, credible, and dramatically meaningful. MLSS is a journey worth completing. 

Characters: One highlight of the Mario RPG family is the quirky characters, and MLSS doesn't stray from this element. The Mario Bros. are a lovable duo. Mario is brave and ready to take on any challenge; Luigi is a bit hesitant, but able to summon courage to confront his fears. Luigi stood out to me this game as a multi-dimensional character. He would interact more with the NPC’s: poking at their bean skin and shaking his butt taunting them. These unique traits gave him a goofy, relatable personality that I looked forward to seeing more of during cut scenes. Those traits were reserved for cut scenes, however, and in battle he was just as capable as his brother. Mario's role aligned with the silent (actually, one with few words) protagonist—a neutral avatar in the game.  

The NPC’s stick to a more one-dimensional definition. The main antagonist, Cackletta, is hell-bent on taking over the world by any means necessary, and is obviously annoyed by the Mario Bros. resistance. Fawful is Cackletta's dedicated minion with a memorable personality. He has fury, he has metaphors, and he has speech patterns I wish I could produce impromptu: "At last, my entrance with drama!" 

Gameplay: I have a love-hate relationship with random encounters, so I'm glad MLSS sticks with enemy patrols in the game world. The enemy design was fantastic with each having multiple move sets that proved challenging to anticipate and counter. The bosses were worthy of their boss status. I qualify that by swallowing my pride, and admitting I did die a couple times (just…a couple). Also, I was very excited to see the Koopalings return in this game—especially Iggy with his fruit loop mop. I know he's a palm tree now, but the glasses and rainbow blast really worked for him. 

The turn-based battle system felt similar to Paper Mario, but added a level of complexity; namely, the individual button inputs for Mario and Luigi took some adjusting. In battle, Mario is A and Luigi is B, and only those buttons work for each brother. If you make an incorrect selection on Mario's turn, you can't back out by pressing B. You must cycle off the "Execute" command onto the "Back" command with A. The most challenging part for me was on defense against enemies that would attack at different paces...at random towards the Mario Bros. I had to remember to dodge with the right button, at the right moment, which proved a challenge when the pace varied. About five hours into the game, I felt acclimated with the controls and was able to take action in battle without too much thought. A minute to learn, a lifetime to master. Thanks Mario, Luigi, and Othello! 

In addition to the battle inputs, familiarizing myself to cycle through each of the unique field skills on the shoulder buttons also hindered me. Many of the challenges in the game require you to go through a sequence of actions unique to each brother. By the end of the game, I still hadn't memorized the action cycle order, and wished I had a controller with twice the inputs.  

One challenge that I think needed more polish was the Peach escort mission in Teehee Valley. Your goal is to guard Peach while navigating the level until you reach the destination. At one point you have to travel across the screen with her on two different land masses while jumping, changing the actions of each bro (high jumps, spiral jumps, and barrel jumps all require different button sequences), and executing quickly so she doesn't walk off the screen. A couple times I cycled through the actions incorrectly, and Peach would go off the main screen, getting instantly captured and placed several screens away. I felt that was too punishing for not executing the sequence correctly. Also, I couldn't interrupt the kidnapping despite being in the enemy's path, which was equally frustrating. Surely if the player was able to assign hot keys (on a Gameboy, yes, I know I'm out of scope here) or disable certain choices, they could better cycle through the actions needed for each challenge. The game designers crammed a lot of different challenges into this game, and it shows when I was still adapting halfway through the game. 

Level Design: There were a couple levels I felt could use improvement. Teehee Valley for the aforementioned reason, and Stardust Fields which is the tutorial level of the game. Your objective is to collect 100 coins. It takes...a decent chunk of time to get through this, and I recall this area as one of the reasons I abandoned the game 13 years ago. (There it is). I felt I was farming money and not in a fun, grass-slashing, rupee-materializing sort of way. Despite that, I think almost every other level entertained. 

Sound: The music was fitting for this game. All the battle themes are catchy, but the boss battle music is the superstar of this soundtrack. Outside the battle grounds, the final level boasted the most interesting background music, and thankfully so since you spend well over an hour playing through it. The level prior to that had a Lavender Town-like sound to it, which gives you the intended eerie vibe. After a couple hours of hearing it, I felt I was going crazy, and likely my neighbors thought I was based on my music selection. Also, the addition of some Mario game melodies helped make the world of Beanbean Kingdom feel familiar. Solid soundtrack, despite nothing striking me as selections I need to add to my game music playlist. 

Final Thoughts: I love SMRPG, and the first two Paper Mario games are extraordinary additions to the Mario RPG family. MLSS too is an excellent addition to this family. That said, if there is one collaboration I yearn for, it's Square (-Enix) and Nintendo. I will not give up on you Super Mario Errpig 2! 

Small Talk Gone Too Far: The Weather

I don’t like the weather here. The atmosphere in the Bay Area bores me. There’s the most pretentious weather statement ever said. I look up at the sky and wish the clearness would be blotted out. I want clouds, rain, wind, snow, lightning, and all the elements commanding my attention. Many people believe the weather in this area is perfect. But it’s not my perfect.

I remember the frigid, grey months of Chicago. I hated the cold, and yet I loved it for the benefits. Snow days were a right in the north for withstanding the chill every winter. You deal with the freeze and get sporadically rewarded with a day free from school. We’d build snowmen, leap from the roof into the snow piles below, and erect snow forts. Of course, snow forts commonly led to snow ball fights where one last man stood victor. DA KING O’ THA NORF!

My Southern and Californian friends ask me how I can tolerate the cold. Strangely, something that influenced me was “The Legend of Zelda.”  When it grew so cold I felt like cooping myself inside, I thought of Link’s adventures to the likes of the Ice Cavern and Snowhead. That poor kid is wearing a tunic, belt, boots--that likely aren’t snow-resistant--and the determination to not give a shit about the elements. He shivers and sneezes like me, but he doesn’t complain about it. So as weird as it sounds, Link is my inspiration to grin and bear it. Perhaps there simply wasn’t enough time to make alternate weather costumes in a Nintendo 64 game.

When I was younger, I enjoyed watching The Weather Channel. My favorite segment was the top of the hour version of "Local on the 8s" because they played an extended music track--a track so good that I choreographed dances to it. Friends would come over to visit, and I excitedly performed my sweet stormin' moves. But they never came back... I’m not sure if it was because of my interpretive weather dancing, but my grandma always said I should be a “weather girl.” You may know the profession as meteorologist. To this day, Grandma wishes I pursued a career in tracking storms from the safety of a newsroom. When the weather segment comes on she says, "Katie, that should be you up there making it rain." Well, she said it in a more grandmotherly way. Truth is, she’s not very punny. That joke is unforgivable… Yes, let’s commit to it together since you got this far.

After living in Illinois most my life, I moved to North Carolina after college and experienced weather novelty. North Carolina had similar seasons, although not nearly as extreme as Chicago’s range. The first deviation from the norm came in the form of a hurricane named Humberto. Based on the news I remembered about hurricanes, I braced myself for a super storm…and I received a few days of somber drizzles. Turns out hurricanes lose momentum the further they travel across land and up the Atlantic. With no desire to migrate further south to test the power of hurricanes, I continued to explore North Carolina for a few more years.

For those that haven’t ventured south of the Mason-Dixon Line, North Carolina is a hot state with humid summers. I learned my lesson when I sat on the black leather seat of my car. It had baked in 110 degree heat during the workday and gave me a sizzling surprise down yonder since I was wearing a skirt. Thereafter, I kept a bun-protecting blanket in my car after burning my cheeks to the first-degree. This wasn’t the first time I burnt my ass on something. The first butt-burn was second-degree level—and a story for another day…

Another interesting facet of North Carolina’s weather spectrum is the statewide reaction to snow. Winters are brief, and yet temperatures can dip below freezing on occasion. During my first December in North Carolina, I experienced a traditional Southern apocalypse that was marked by nearly three inches of snow on a Saturday evening. Three inches of snow in the north is considered a dusting, but in North Carolina it’s like that game where the floor is lava. In this case, the whole world is lava and don’t leave your house because God just poured freezing kryptonite onto the Earth. My friends planned to come to my place that night, and they presumed the shindig was off since they can’t (wouldn’t) drive in the snow. I won’t let a li’l frost dampen my hootenanny. I hit the road, and boy, if three inches of snow would always clear a path for me, I’d strap an industrial snow machine to myself. To further prove the state’s inability to handle snow, snow days were announced for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday at school. Because of this, I believe the state only deploys one snow truck to clean the roads.

After leaving North Carolina in 2010, I lived in New York for a year. I can report that the weather there is fine. Until it gets real hot on garbage day and the city smells like a Fish Egg McMuffin. Not lovin’ that, Manhattan. Anyway, I’m more of a hot cakes and sausage fan. Fill my city with the scent of cheap carbs and meats.

For a few years, I returned to Illinois. The most notable weather event was in 2014. The news reported air so cold that you would be in danger of frost-bite if you were outside longer than 5-10 minutes. My employer at the time not so gently suggested that we should be in the office regardless of the air being characterized as deadly. I figured if I’m going to risk life and limb getting to work, I may as well equip myself properly. I donned the onesie a friend convinced me to buy. I suppose it was its destiny: to protect me from the chilly weather in public. That said, I was wearing multiple other layers for my trek to the office. But the big reveal, oh, it was glorious. I consider myself quite the fashionista, and this was downright tacky; I showed up to work in head-to-toe white fleece dotted with cat heads. I’m not even a cat-person—I’m a principle person.

Soon a new opportunity beckoned to me, and I ripped off my onesie to travel to the west coast. I found myself in Redwood City, California. I visited Los Angeles and Irvine before and did like the beach weather, but I soon realized how different Northern California was from its Southern counterpart. Before I moved, I bought a pair of periwinkle rain boots and anticipated their debut at the next rainfall. After a few months of sun, I asked a colleague if it ever rained. She said it rarely did, and when it rained, it was during the winter months, maybe a handful of times. Now, I’m not about to revive my childhood rain-dancing, but I quite like the sound and smell of rain. It’s also a soothing sleep aide. It’s also a nice temporary cleaner for my car. Why did I get a white car? I don’t care what anyone says—white is the worst car color to keep clean. I found myself missing the pitter-patter, the clean smell, the umbrella-less people racing to their destination while squealing.

Speaking of things that fall from the sky, you can forget snow in the Bay Area. The winter season is marked by Christmas lights hanging from palm trees and homeless camps. Your snow fix can be satisfied by Tahoe, but how often can you make a 5-hour journey just to reset your cold, bitter heart? Also, not sure when I’ll be invited up to my friend’s cabin after I brought Jameson to a sophisticated whiskey party. I’ll go take shots for everyone in the corner…

It’s been almost two and a half years since moving here. Of all the places I lived, the Bay Area is my least favorite. There are other, more significant factors that come into play besides weather, but ultimately I learned that you should love the place you live. Besides your home and office, the world that surrounds you should do so in a way that completes the package. I thought about what my perfect living situation would be:

• A beach-side cabana house overlooking the ocean with a canopy bed and floor-to-ceiling windows that give me the idea of nature. Bugs eat me up like I’m the Kobe beef of people.

• A secluded cabin on the mountain with a hot tub and drone food delivery service.

• A hot-air balloon to soar the skies and land wherever I need to go. I like the idea of me expanding real estate into the skies.

·       I want my family and friends with me; they’re all scattered across the states, though. If I could, I would squeeze them all into a regional bubble. I suppose I have friends in many places because I’ve never put roots down anywhere. Maybe that means I haven’t found MY home yet.

This talk of weather turned me a bit sentimental. Weather is one of the many things that make me feel at home. The Bay Area cannot give that to me. Perhaps if the area felt like home in other ways, I wouldn’t focus so much on what it can’t give me and focus on what it does give me. I’ve made some great friends, but there’s something missing, and I don’t think I will find it here under another mild sky. My sky is cold and hot. It’s dry and rainy. It’s still and moving. It’s calm and chaos. But until I find myself under that sky again, I should find peace with the one I have.