Mass Effect 3 and the Obliteration of Sense

Mass Effect 3 launched in the United States on March 6th, 2012. I started playing my copy two days later. The game was beautiful, the relationships with the characters seemed even more realistic and poignant. Except for the relationship with Thane, that is. But more on that later... The game was beautiful and it quite possibly would have been the best game of the series, except for the end...

I'm not sure how Bioware managed to get everything right only to screw it up in the last moments of the game. If this is Shepard's last story, how could players be treated to endings with no closure, and which two of them are essentially the same? I also don't understand how Bioware can't see how this would be upsetting to fans of the franchise. Bioware writers are incredibly gifted at writing characters that make you believe in them, that reflect all that's wonderful and all that's awful about life. The writers make the characters matter to us. So after executing a literary coup that leaves our hearts firmly in their grasp, they seem oblivious to the fact that it HURTS when they rip those hearts out by the roots.

ME3's larger scope means that Shepard's decisions grow more painful and harder to arrive at than in the previous games; and the effects on Shepard's character are more pronounced as the game goes on. As the countdown to the final climax comes, Shepard's outlook gets grimmer, and lonely. This is one time the Commander needs someone to lean on and there is no respite to be found. I don't believe that life is sunshine and unicorns, but many of us play these games to immerse ourselves in a life that's different than our own, maybe even better in some ways.

Is hope that detrimental to a storyline?

Here is my personal wish for Shepard:

Shepard, if he/she survived the events of ME3, retires, and undergoes therapy to help with the PTSD he/she is suffering from, and the survivor guilt. Shepard marries their love interest, has a beautiful honeymoon, and a kid. This makes Shepard think of the boy that died back on Earth. Shepard doesn't retire completely from the alliance, but serves in a consultant role. However, the years and tragedies have taken their toll and Shepard is deeply scarred and broken. After bringing deliverance and salvation for so many, the Commander is grasping for whatever bits of happiness and normalcy he/she can find... Thane once told the Commander that there comes a time when one must rest from war and conflict, that it wasn't Shepard's time, but that it was his. It is finally Shepard's time to rest. The Commander has earned it.

I killed the Archdemon with The Butterfly Sword

Today was T's last day with us, after a blissful leave that had its rough moments as well. I finally got to show T DA I and DA II. He seemed into it even though he says they talk too much in the game. He also decided to be a dwarf. Let me be clear; I friggin' hate the dwarves. The only things I hate more are the wretched Deep Roads. May the Blight infest the mind of whatever Bioware developer decides to put them in DA III! Okay. Personal rant over, I fought my way through Origins several times THE HARD WAY...no cheat codes for this gamer chick. By the time I finished, it felt that I had accomplished something on a legendary level. Oh, and it also felt like I needed therapy... Enter T, the creator of Durango the exiled dwarven noble. T hasn't even fought one serious battle yet, and here he is padding the dwarf with exploited and grossly inflated experience points. Alistair WOULD NOT approve. I have watched this man, (T) use the same exploit for ten minutes now. And he has the nerve to tell me watching my games are mind-numbingly boring. All I can say is that DA III better be co-op multiplayer, or we are going to need marriage counseling up in here... I will be trying to slay the Archdemon with The Butterfly Sword when T goes back though. Minus cheat codes. Oh, and Fenris, if you are out there, come over and we will play gin rummy. I promise I'm not a mage; well, most of the time I'm not... :)

These Boots Were Made For...someone else...

I had hoped that my hard work would pay off this winter and allow me to finally be able to buy a pair of sexy boots...something I have always wanted, but never did because I can never find a boot with a wide enough shaft. Even when I was my normal weight, I still had this problem. I found an incredible pair of boots that I loved. They were black, sassy, and ridiculously sexy. And yet this match made in cobbler heaven, was destined not to be. They would not zip up, and I was left feeling like an ugly stepsister, and not the vampy seductress I was hoping to be. I don't think there is a pair of boots out there for me, and I don't think I can lose weight fast enough to wear the settled-upon pair I bought when Tony gets home.

Oh No!

In my last post, I talked about how fragile the relationship between my sister and I is.  My sister is trying to make me let my mom come back home.

I don't want to do it.  My mom is going to go back to doing whatever she wants to do instead of doing what is best for her health.

The round robin of hospitalizations are traumatizing to the kids, and I have had it

A part of me is incredibly angry that my sister shows up at the eleventh hour playing the hero.  Especially when she doesn't know what these years have been like.

I just heard from the nursing home where my mother is.  They are transporting her to the emergency room, but she refuses to go to Scott & White.  Scott & White is a better hospital.

Ceasefires

Today I am sitting in my dining room typing this as my sister, nephew, and potential future brother-in-law are passed out asleep in my living room. Circumstance has turned us into somewhat uneasy roomates. With my mom's prognosis as yet unclear, and the arrangements of her placement still needing to be ironed out, the family has come together as best it can to attempt to weather this storm. I wasn't exactly sure this would work out; my sister and I are polar opposites in both looks and personalities in addition to the almost ten-year age difference between us. She's the social butterfly, the one with her finger on the pulse of every new trend. I am the aloof one, the one who likes to be around others when I am comfortable with it, but that generally prefers solitude over a block party. Last night, my sister told me that her job was able to transfer her to Texas permanently, but that it would mean she'd be working in San Antonio. Given that a two hour commute each way is impractical, that means she will have to move there. I was kind of hoping that things wouldn't work out with her job because then she'd stay in my area. We both realize that we are way to different to live in the same house, but the same area would be nice. It would be nice to get to know my nephew better, and my sons could use some constancy and some family in their lives too. They have been hurting so much with T gone. I had also hoped we could work on our relationship. She and I haven't had the best, and now that things are peaceful for the first time in a long time, I thought we could try to reach a common ground. I wish it didn't take my mom's diagnosis to bring us together, but life isn't made of beautifully poignanant, scripted moments.

Believe it or Not

I was excited when I first heard heard about the Implanon birth control implant.  It seemed like a perfect fit for me.  I got the implant, and I was very happy with it.  Earlier this year, it was time to get a new implant put in.  That's when the trouble started...

They could not find the implant! Four people searched for it.  I was asked if I had been messing with it.  I hadn't.  The only thing I was guilty of was taking the damn thing for granted.  I used to check for it every day when I first got it, but after a while, I became complacent and forgot about it.

I was told that they could not put a new one in without pulling the old one out.  Then I was told that there was no way to find this thing using an xray because the first generation of the implant has no radiographic capability.  I was told that Implanon representatives recommended using an ultrasound to find it, but that the machine would have to function at a minimum of 15 gigahertz to pick it up.

So here I find myself in the waiting room of Scott & White Hospital here in lovely Temple, Texas.  Metroplex and Fort Hood don't have the imaging capabilities needed.  I'm wearing a hospital gown and jeans.  At least my toenails look nice!

Surrounded by pregnant women who are staring at me in puzzlement, I'm called to the exam room.  Long story short, the tech couldn't find my implant either...back to the drawing board!

Bullying

My oldest son was talking about his seventh grade freind today, and he told me he feels very badly for the kid because he is always getting bullied. He says his friend told him that bullies even broke his legs. I asked if his friend had told the teachers and his parents about the bullying. My son says the teachers haven't really done much in the way of a response. This frightens me, especially with so many tragic stories in the media of kids committing suicide because they could no longer cope with being tormented. I try to have conversations with my kids about bullying frequently, and I always tell them that sometimes people will not like you no matter what you do, and that meaans that the problem is them and not you. I also encourage them to talk to their teachers, and to me if they have any problems. I feel bad that as a parent, that seems to be all we can do as a society. our kids deserve better.