Wednesday, July 27, 2005

EGBOK

I think it's time for everyone to calm down, take a deep breath, put the XBox controller down, set aside the tv remote, unwind, smile, and realize that the world is doing pretty durn well overall.



EGBOK

Spread it around.

When someone races past you to cut in line at the bank, and you feel your blood pressure start to crawl upward, give yourself an EGBOK. Give one to the gent in front of you with steam coming out his ears.

EGBOK

When someone blasts past you in the right lane on a crowded road, horns blaring and fists waving, pat the dashboard and give yourself an EGBOK. Give one to the lady on the sidewalk who's freaking out because the nimrod behind the racing wheel almost hit her dog.

EGBOK

Things going too fast for you at work? Treat yourself to an EGBOK. Heck, while you're at it, give one to your boss and his secretary, especially if it's a Tuesday.



Work stress following you home and you're about ready to throttle your 14-year-old for forgetting to take out the trash this morning before going off to the mall? Give him an EGBOK instead. Keep a few in reserve for the times when tense conversation comes up in the future - it's a great way to keep things in perspective.

EGBOK

They've got zero carbs, zero calories, absolutely no cholesterol-boosting fats. They have nothing in their composition that can cause (or cure) cancer, nor do they cause your hair to fall out. EGBOKs have no counterindications with any OTC or prescription drugs, although they can be a bit addictive.

My husband gave me one about 14 years ago, and I cherish it to this day. They have a tremendously long shelf life, but should be taken out and tousled once in a while just to keep the grins going.

EGBOK

EGBOK = Everything's Gonna Be OK

Pass it around - spread a few around today. Heck, buy a couple at the little store to have on hand for special occasions where the words are good but the constant reminder would be better.

And if not.. EGBOK anyway.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Strange Days Be Comin'

So.. my mom calls me yesterday to let me know she's going in for a knee replacement Tuesday. She also wanted to let me know in no uncertain terms that she has absolutely no desire to go through life as a vegetable, should something go wrong.

Oh man.. Mom, neither do I. This is one of those times when I am glad to be blessed with a huge family. We talk; we can leave tracks for each other and be the repository of this sort of information for each other.

For some reason, I flashed on the predicament of the solo flyer through life. No family, few friends - who does he tell? With whom does she leave this sort of critical information?



I think this will be a topic in the Quiet Conversation Forums very soon. I'd like to hear opinions.

-=-

Today is turning into a true day of rest - legs staying elevated and mental energies focused on not letting the clot move. I wonder if this works... thinking at a clot and telling it not to move....

Wanted: Used Teletransporter. Must Work at Top Speed





-=-

Anyone else find themselves split between righteous indignation and feelings of resignation these days?

I hate this feeling - the lack of a sense of control over the stability of my own boring life. I think a lot of this comes from instant data. Instant news. Instant promises - LOSE 450 LBS OVERNIGHT! Instant feedback. Instant gratification. Instant expectation.

I watched the little beachball circling, waiting for a transfer page to load, twiddling my thumbs and becoming more and more impatient as my 2-meg document crept its way toward San Jose. What da heck was taking this thing so long!?

The net groaned under the weight of thumb-twiddling for a few more seconds - the actual document upload took less than five minutes. I sighed with relief and raced off to do something else, again poised for instant results... only nine more such documents to go before my little project was complete.

Gone, apparently, are the days of being able to relax while UPS at their slow steady brown pace picks up my documents at my door and drives them to their destination, saving me time, gas, money and headaches.

I'd almost rather wait three days for delivery than watch the spinning beach ball as it gulps up my data here and spits it out, Venus born from the shell full-grown at birth and ready to work, on someone's server a few hundred miles away.

-=-

Friday, July 22, 2005

If..

If I stand over there atop Mount Everest and tapdance in place until it snows, would you penguin-waddle along Santa Monica Pier at sunset and sing the Oreo song?

Ah, silly fern, you snicker and elbow each other in the ribs as you grin. You KNOW I'm not about to climb Mount Everest, or Mount McKinley or Mount Whitney, or even Mount Anthill in the front yard. Those of you who know me know I have an irrational thing about heights. (Those of you who REALLY know me know it's not so irrational, is it?)

Ah, gentle reader-grasshopper-friend. Notice I said 'if.'



And what if I said I were a mountain goat in a dirndl? What then?

-=-

Don't mind me. I'm just tired.

So I'll leave you with a couple of ideas for Aunt Ida's birthday. Go visit the store - http://www.myferngarden.com (and click on Shop). Find a tile treasure box from an Irish county you think she might have said she's from. Get that and a matching mug - the coupon sale ends 7/26 (code is SUMSAV into checkout box).

(Goes off to start practicing tapdancing)

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Singin' da Bruise

Well. This is an interesting twist of events. This journal was supposed to be about designing an online game, not about griping to the known universe about the vagaries of sudden physical malfunction.

But you're here, and so am I, it seems. So gripe I shall. Just a little bit.

Normally I don't bruise badly, though I've gone through stages in my life where the slightest brush up against something would cause some interesting colors after awhile. I've always been a bit of a klutz and in my early adulthood had a tendency to run iron-poor. Eating disorders have their pitfalls. At the time, however, the terms anorexia and bulimia had not reached designer state - I just ate wrong and lost a ton of weight too fast... got my iron out of kilter and bruised bad as a result.

This is different though. This time I have even more interesting colors spreading merrily and painfully from each injection and blood draw point. I've half a notion to keep my hands in my pockets and arms well covered, in case someone sees me and calls some form of battered women's protective agency. I assure you, I'm in the best of hands, though, and my poor husband is already upset enough as it is.

The blood thinners must be working, for such a technicolor display to ensue. I've had two of the seven injections, and am not sure exactly how I am supposed to get the one today, since the Urgent Care place that gave me yesterday's kept the prescription form and didn't give us any information about what to do next. So I suppose I'll wing it and see if the ER has a record of the scrip, and find out if we're supposed to drive into town to do that there.

Meanwhile I've been doing way too much online research of this DVT stuff (deep venous thrombosis, for those of you just tuning in), and it's sounding like serious stuff. I just hope the Coumadin works while we can afford it - I found out yesterday that our insurance will cover 30 days of a prescription and beyond that, we're on our own.

This from the Canadian Family Physician site (http://www.cpfc.ca/cfp/2004/Jan/vol50-jan-cme-3.asp) :
"A relationship between long-distance air travel and DVT has been previously demonstrated. Passengers tightly squeezed into economy class seats might be at particular risk because of cramped conditions, in addition to decreased barometric pressure and low humidity. This case report suggests that flying might also result in stroke. Given the popularity of long-distance travel among aging baby boomers and the increasing age-related risks of stroke, the relationship between thromboembolic stroke and air travel requires further study."

Tightly squeezed is a misnomer. The recommendation is to 'get up and walk around' - 'drink plenty of fluids' - 'change positions frequently' - HA!

To get up and walk around during those flights would have meant getting the other two jam-packed folks next to me to move, coercing one into getting my cane from the overhead compartment, figuring a way to slide through minimal space without tripping, and then -finding- a place to move around. On one flight, there was less than 1/4" between my knees and the back of the seat in front of me. I'm not tall - 5'4" is not tall. How in the world do these 6-footers do it?

Change positions frequently? Breathing without displacing the person beside me was enough of a challenge.

Drink plenty of fluids? My fault - I should have brought a case of bottled water with me, although I have no clue how I would have reached for a bottle.



As far as 'further study' goes, they need only look around. Just in the past two days, I have heard from well over two dozen folks, all of whom know at least one person who is either suffering from DVT or knew someone who died from it in the past two years. Scary coincidences, and makes me wonder if that 60,000 figure isn't rather low.

So I'll take my shots, and I'll take my meds (at least until I can't afford to), and we'll see what happens. If nothing else, at least I have some spectacular discoloration to watch. I'll keep ya posted.

On a lighter note, since this is also exacerbating my insomnia, I was able to make major headway on the websites and stores, and actually added in a new design, some wallpaper downloads, a new forum, and some really cool automatic linking pages.



The text reads:
"There is but one and only one,
Whose love will fail you never.
One who lives from sun to sun,
With constant fond endeavor.

There is but one and only one
On earth there is no other.
In heaven a noble work was done
When God gave us a Mother."

Peace, folks.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Fern's Top Ten Ways to Get a Job as a Staffer (Mortal) at Karinth

This should really be titled: "Top Ten Ways NOT to Get a Job as a Staffer (Immortal) at Karinth.

Any of the following will ensure results, some more rapid than others. These points are based on actual incidents, by the way, and all names have been changed to Bob, to protect the not-so-innocent. Please note: Not one single applicant or candidate was really named Bob. Some of the Bobs have been male; some have been female. We're an equal-opportunity adventure.


10 - 1337speak
Nothing endears a person less to my heart than Bob's inability to use the language of the realm in clear, concise terms. Phrases like 'r u hiring' just tweak my innards. If a person can't spare the digital energy to type out a full word, how will they possibly invest the time and effort required to write a full area of rooms, mobiles, objects, programs, extra descriptions and the like? Did Bob, our eager applicant, show up to the interview via a cellphone with a thumb-typed keyboard? Bob should have scheduled a discussion for a later time, after explaining that he's communications-impaired.


9 - Instant Staffer - Just Add MUD
Even less of a thrill is when Bob applies for a staff position two minutes after creating their first character on the game. Bob sees the first room of the game after the introduction, decides he would like to build at our place, sends a tell-message to every visible staffer that he wants to build. Bob then becomes incensed when he is told, as politely as possible, that he needs exposure to the game itself before applying.

Irate at not being hired instantly, Bob flames the staffers. public channels, and not a few forums and review sites, announcing to all who will listen that 'those a**h*** immortals at Legends of Kirenth don't know what they're missing by not hiring me!' Well... we missed hiring someone who can't spell the name of our game...


8- The Expert Hath Arrived
Bob creates a character for the first time, goes through the introduction, steps out of the first room, and within nanoseconds knows everything there is to know about the game. Bob begins firing off messages to all visible staffers, delineating exactly what the downfalls of the game are and what MUST happen for it to improve.

When Bob's expertise is not adequately acknowledged in private conversation, he takes the conversation to the public ear, usually the OOC (out-of-character) channel, and lets everyone in the game know exactly what the downfalls of the game are and what must happen for it to improve. Laser guns are sometimes involved. (Legends of Karinth figures its timeframe in high medieval Earth years.) Bob also often makes the suggestion that Legends of Karinth needs a big wilderness map. (Legends of Karinth has a 6-million room wilderness map - how big must it be to be big enough?)

The key phrase is: 'What you guys REALLY need to do is ..." Use that within the first few hours of arrival, and marvel at the speed at which the possibility of a staff position vanishes.


7 - The Instant Best Friend
Bob creates a character for the first time, etc etc etc (you know the drill by now). Bob then begins chatting up the implementor like an old pal. (Nine times out of 10,000, perhaps the implementor has seen Bob's name on a game forum someplace; the other 9,991 times, Bob is a total stranger.) Bob then gets offended when a staff position is not offered based on the obvious weight of his friendship, and leaves amidst mutters and a flurry of smiley-face emoticons. "I'll be back later and we'll talk about this when you're not so busy! :) :) :)" Bob vanishes, never to be seen again.

The next time we hear of Bob is when our friendly neighborhood implementor next door is checking out Bob's list of references, upon which he has lovingly tacked my name, as obviously I am such a good friend.


6 - The I'll Do ANYTHING! Over-Promiser
Somehow Bob gets an interview going with a staffer. Let's say Bob has spent the time to learn the game a bit, has achieved about five levels, so he's zooming around the starting house, slaughtering mosquitos with ease. This time Bob is smart enough not to declare himself the best friend, expert, instant staffer - and he's using a real keyboard instead of his Nok-rizo-torola to log in and chat. The interview proceeds; Bob seems like he does have a good deal of potential as a staffer.

But when it comes time to find out just what he wants to do, Bob waffles. He'll do it all. He's willing to build cities and villages and dungeons, mitigate player problems, design and host world quests, proofread documentation, maintain the website, write the Herbals module in C, redesign the information base, market the webstores, promote the game to link sites, fix the problem with the action code, rebuild the engine in my Ford Bronco, and clean out the cat box. And that's just for starters. Oh, and if there's anything else that needs done, Bob's the man. Nailing this guy down to a single department or function is as easy as getting my neighbor's pet goldfish to sing in HMS Pinafore at Carnegie Hall next week.


5 - Plagiarism is the Sincerest Form of Flattery
Bob makes it up a few levels and is in an interview with a staffer. Bob's impressed with things so far, so when he's asked to submit a sample of his own original writing, he rushes to the task. Bob makes a rather silly mistake and copies a room from another game he used to play. What Bob fails to realize is that this room was written by the staffer he's interviewing with. Bob looks like an idiot, and remains a non-staffer. Upstairs, smatterings of laughter float through the office suites.


4 - Plagiarism + Stupidity = ?
Bob's in a real rush to get this staffer position going, and decides to copy something even sillier - a room from Midgaard complete with typos. Bob looks like a complete idiot, and remains a non-staffer. Upstairs, no laughter. The staffers just look on in awe, unable to believe that Bob would think that would fly.

For non-gamers, this is the default starting city provided with the stock package, and is sometimes used without modification. Just about anyone who's ever played a MUD has seen Midgaard at some point in their gaming career.


3 - The Social Flutterby
Bob has made a few levels, gotten an appointment with a staffer, and has his ducks in a row, with a set of rooms he's prepared to show his stuff and a set of world quest ideas fleshed out and put into an email for the staff to read ahead of time. He's really done his homework, and there for awhile it looks like Bob could be a seriously great addition to the staff. Only one small problem: Bob can't shut up long enough to get the good news.

Bob's got a major case of motor-mouth. Even though he managed to contain it during a portion of the interview, he's got the throttle stuck full open. Everything that's crossing his brain is coming out through his fingers, and he's talking like there's no tomorrow. He sidetracks interview topics with a chain of personal anecdotes. He carries on about the similarities of his gaming experience and his school experience. He talks, and talks, and talks. And talks. The staffers look at each other and shrug, then apply the red rejection stamp to his application. Easy enough to know what will happen if he comes on board. He'll talk, and talk, and talk. And talk. The sad thing is that Bob probably thinks he's being quite affiliative. But the truth remains: When Bob's around, work skids to a halt.


2 - Promise Me Anything
... but at least give me your attention. Bob gets onboard as a staffer somehow and starts building the Halls of Holloweigh beneath the Muran Range. (Obviously a different Bob.. the other ones are off trying to pull the wool over someone else's eyes). He claims he's writing it out on paper first (which is a fine idea). His assigned area file sits empty for weeks, which become months, which becomes a year. Bob has spent a lot of time on his project (he says), but in the space of time most builders could produce three or four good-sized areas, he's submitted nothing visible. Bob gets highly incensed when asked when output will be forthcoming. One day, Bob just fades away, off to the next place.

Bob reminds me of another Bob who worked with me some years ago, at a different place. He was a super communicator... great vocabulary, exceptional at producing visualization. Sadly, he never wrote a single room for the game that could have been seen by players. That Bob. as it turned out, had a severe case of being spread too thin. He was producing areas for three other games at the same time. Since ours had no set deadlines, ours was the one that got pushed to the back burner.


And the Number One All-Time Way to not apply for a job as a staffer:

1 - - Fabricate, Prevaricate, Obfuscate... or Just Flat Lie
Bob's game-pertinent curriculum vitae is impressive. He's built at a dozen places (mostly shut down - server costs, poor management, lack of playerbase); he's administered at a half-dozen more (mostly shut down, of course); he's even run several games all on his own (mostly shut down, of course). He's got enough experience that it's a surprise Sony hasn't picked him up for a senior spot in one of their game development operations.

Bob has nineteen years of experience in the online MUD industry, and has worked on DIKU and ROM games since 1987. (DIKU, from which ROM is derived, was released in 1991). The addition of Bob to the staff would be a definite feather in the cap for the game - he brings so much to the team!

There's just a couple of small problems though... Bob told someone on staff (not someone in the interview with him) that he might have to cut the interview short, since he was going for a driver's test. Bob just turned sixteen years old last week, he tells this other staffer.. and obviously staffers never talk to each other... We think maybe Bob flunked his last math exam or has significant short-term memory problems... or some significant short-term truth problems. Bob remains a non-staffer. Upstairs, folks are getting back to work and wondering why Bob wasted their time.


There you have it, folks. That's ten great ways to ensure that a staff position remains firmly out of reach!

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Contest Closed

The one person who participated and won a free t-shirt reported that it arrived today. He sounded thrilled, and that makes me even more thrilled.

The Fern Garden has been seeing highly increased traffic over the past couple of days, which is also an encouraging sign. After spending several hours flipping back and forth between keyword analyzers and traffic analyzers and link analyzers, I think that I need to have my head analyzed.. what was I thinking??

But it is a ton of fun. This has been a nice focused project while I wait for completion of one of the game modules. I'm seeing now that it is not going to be a short-term project - I suppose I should have known that.. and I'm trying hard to keep from checking traffic stats every hour on the hour. Typical Type A++ sort, I want to know what's happening.

Also, I have entirely new respect for folks who write ad copy for the catalogs that flood in through the mail. This is an insane task, folks. Try describing 1500 t-shirts in glowing terms. One at a time. Every one different. No two the same. I dare ya. Heck.. I dare ME. I still have to go through a ton of designs and do exactly that. One at a time. Every one different.. no two.. the.. same.

Shoot me now.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Battling Through the Noise

It's official. No entirely sane person would take on this sort of task willingly.

Still four slots left to win shirts.. no takers..?

http://www.myferngarden.com - the Fern Garden is open, by the way. Forums are set up, folks are welcome to join and start new quiet conversations, so long as they abide by the two simple rules: Respect each other. Support each other.

-=-

On an entirely different level of outrage: the attack on London this morning. My mind can't grasp what nature of madman would perpetrate deeds like these and our own 9/11. London: Stand firm, and don't let these sorts of folks win. Deepest condolences to the families of the lost. Now, to paraphrase what Condoleeza Rice writes: 'let us ensure they do not die in vain.'

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Quieter Side of Life



Amidst all the frantic, I decided to design calm and peaceful. A new section of the store, The Fern Garden, will move to its own shop space sometime in the next week, but for now it is under the Dragon Hoards.

Still awaiting those four other winners (see the July 1 post below) - and I've decided to set the deadline a bit further out. Seems I totally forgot that many folks would be out traveling and setting off fireworks this weekend instead of meandering through the backwaters of the net.

So - the other four of you - whoever you may be - you have until 8 July 2005 to leave a comment and win a free shirt of your choice from our little webstore. For more details see the July 1 post.

-=-

My cat swears she is going on strike the next time someone shoots off a bottle rocket down the street. Poor thing has been a quivering bundle of furry nerves for a couple of days now, though I see that's not stopping her from consuming a full plate of food. Wish I could eat like she does and still stay lean and mean. But I suppose she stays that way by racing around madly and leaping halfway up the walls, and I doubt I'll ever be that agile again.

Peaceful weekend, folks.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

Question It


Question It.

Congratulations to our first winner of the respond-for-a-free-shirt - Guy, your Naugh..T golf shirt will ship sometime early next week.

Three more days, folks - read the prior post for details. Who are the other four folks? Is one of them you?

-=-

Someone's out behind us in the desert a few hundred yards setting off fireworks and scaring the cats.

Last night around sunset, some prankster lit off a screaming something-or-other nearby, filling the air with noise and that once-a-year distinctive aroma. Poor cat went straight up in the air a few feet above her resting place, landed with a thud and gave me that 'WHAAA..T?? look that cats do so well when asked to fetch something. Shock to her dignity, for sure.

Have a safe and sane weekend, friends.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Reality Bites - Hard

Picture a little kid jumping up and down in a corner yelling 'Hey!'.

Now picture same kid surrounded by 27,424,387,256 other kids, all shouting 'Hey!'

... got that picture firmly in your mind?

Considering what this mental image conjures, it is an absolute bloody miracle that you are reading this page now. I find it fascinating, and almost unbelievable, that you found this cul de sac of the neighborhood of the city of the state of the country of the realm of the universe of the Internet.

Now, much as I would like to think that you found this on purpose, I have a sinking feeling that a lot of the traffic we get to the game, to the webstore, to this universe's small corner, even to this journal, is sheer luck. A tiny little combination of the right electrons at the right time blinking in the right color caught some synaptic attention and, like the trail of a firefly, it nearly vanished before being focused upon.

Now, with all those kids jumping up and down, surrounded by all those other kids jumping up and down, how in the world can you expect to find the kid you're looking for? That, gentle reader, is the big question of the day. It seems to me that a great deal of it is accidental. Take my humble shop, for instance.

I have a set of keywords which categorize my shop. I've changed those keywords to keep in sync with what I add into it, checking them with certain services for sanity. Then I let folks like Google know that I have a place that has things in it that relate to that keyword. Let's look at one: medieval. That's just one of the small set of keywords I get to use to wave a flag in the air, jumping up and down, saying 'Hey!' ... along with (get this) about 19,400,000 other kids jumping up and down - and that's on Google alone. I doubt seriously that someone is going to notice the 19,399,998th one, which is probably me.

So let's narrow down the playground - and look for: medieval t-shirt. Wow, I only hear 438,000 other kids shouting at Google about that one. A smaller crowd, but I'd wager our little shop is either 437,999th on that list or not on it at all, given the vagaries of SEO. (That's shorthand for Search Engine Optimization, for those new to this - I was new to this myself a couple of weeks ago, and SEO probably stood for Spam Everyone Online.)

Let's go over by the sandbox and narrow things even further - and look for: blademaster medieval t-shirt - woooo! Only 46 kids jumping! Sadly, we're not one of them. Even though our shop has medieval as a keyword, and sells t-shirts, and has one called Virtual Blademaster - we're nowhere to be found. Why??

'Ah, patience, grasshopper,' to paraphrase my SEO-savvy friend who has been guiding me through this nighmarish dungeon. So, being more of a Queen fan ("I want it all, I want it -all-, I want it ALL, and I want it NOW...") than not, I tried to curb my natural Type A++ personality and wait.. patiently. Turns out the way to overnight success is paved with hundreds of days of tuning and tweaking and modifying and waiting and waiting and waiting. All the kids are in two rows - one set has been noticed, and the others are waiting.

We're in the waiting line.

So, the reality of the situation is... If you're here, you're here because you want to be, probably not because Google told you to go here. You're here by choice, probably not by a push from behind by Yahoo.

If you have read this far, then you're on the list of folks blessed by St Jude, patron saint of impossible causes. I didn't find a patron saint for patience and persistence... yet. But here's what I will do. I will give the FIRST FIVE FOLKS who respond to this journal entry before July 4th noon PST a free short-sleeve t-shirt of their design choice from the store. Go look around the store and decide what you'd like, then enter your response. I will receive an email notice of your response, and the first five I receive who include -valid- email addresses to respond to will be the winners. We'll conduct the where-to-ship stuff etc via email, but winners will be posted here as well.

Just one kid shouting 'Hey!' - and happy, safe 4th of July to all US Folk, and happy Canada Day to the northern neighbors.