This past week I have endeavored to make a game called Adera my favorite pastime. Those who know me know I don’t usually play games. On the other hand, my brothers will tell you that I played Play Station games with them when I was growing up. This is all true but I’ve never called myself a gamer because I’ve never considered myself one. There is only one game I thoroughly enjoyed playing and that was Broken Sword which unfortunately I could never manage to play long enough to satisfy my curiosity (I was always called away to do chores). Adera is like my Broken Sword game from childhood. The first taste was enough to get me hooked but I could never get my satisfaction.
Adera like Broken Sword is a puzzle/adventure game. The story line is intriguing, you can feel yourself being engrossed by it the further along you go. Also, the puzzles are varied so I’m not just playing hidden object games which I’m sick of and the graphics are actually pretty decent. I should mention at this point that my idea of decent graphics is that when I turn, I don’t somehow become a part of the wall behind me making me feel like Kitty from X-Men for a good few seconds. The game is released in episodes and unfortunately only the first is free but it lasts you for a good few hours. I lost track of time so I don’t really know how long I was in this Broken-Sword-dream-come-true state. Which means just what you think it means. Right when you’re about to get an orgasm from how excited you are it ends and you have to pay for the next episode. The price: NZD$5.99 which let’s just be honest is really NZD$6.
Here is where my disappointment comes in. They charged my credit card, which I didn’t mind, but the episode will not work. This expense of NZD$6 excludes the net I had to purchase in order to download it at home. So now I’ve paid around NZD$16 to get this game installed. If you have read my first ever blog you’ll know that net in New Zealand or rather the building I’m staying in is not cheap. I earn minimum wage and I’m a student therefore money is very dear to me because there never seems to be enough of it especially after the bills are done raping me up the wall.
This is the screen that filled me with anticipation.
And this is the screen that I got for a good 10 minutes.
The first time I downloaded Episode 2 it wouldn’t download. So I followed some online advice by other people who were also experiencing the same difficulty. I downloaded the troubleshoot app which enabled me to download it. Unfortunately, it’s just a black screen which I stared at for about 10 minutes before I was like, ‘hey I didn’t have to wait this long for the first episode.’ So after going online to find yet another solution I uninstalled the game and then reinstalled it. To my great sorrow, it did not work. Another solution suggested I restart my beautiful laptop, uninstall the game, restart again, install episode 1, restart, then install episode 2. Oh the megabytes that have been wasted on this pointless exercise. Well not completely wasted seeing as how I now know that it doesn’t work.
In short, 3 stars from me. I was going to give it 4 because I enjoyed the first episode that much but seeing as how I have wasted time, net, AND money I’m going to go with 3. If you’re going to charge people $5-$6 per episode at least make sure it’s working. I don’t know what Team Adera is thinking but there are people out there, like me, who work hard to get their money. They’re stressed out and just want to have some down time with a game they’re looking forward to enjoying. Not a download problem that adds more stress to them especially after you’ve taken their money.
For those of you who don’t know I am a waitress at an Italian Restaurant that’s in a cosy little part of Auckland City called the Chancery (the cosy little part, not the restaurant). Our customer database is mostly students but we have business people who come in as well. Now that I’ve set the scene for you allow me to go on with my rant.
What is it with people who choose dirty tables to sit on or tables I’m cleaning. You see I’ve never been able to get it. I’ve just cleaned a table, I’m tired, I’m in no mood to be rushed and yet some a**holes will stand there and wait for me to finish cleaning the table I’m cleaning. Why don’t they sit at the table I JUST cleaned? There are 5 f***ing clean tables around the table I’m cleaning, why don’t they just f***ing sit there?? Not clean enough for you b****? What are you? The Queen of Sheba?
Seriously! The OCD some of these customers have is amazing. Amazingly annoying! Just because I happen to be cleaning a table when you walk in it doesn’t mean that table is for you. Despite what you make think not everything is about you. Just because it is my job to wait on you it doesn’t mean that every table I clean is specially for you. Seriously go choose the other tables. They’re just as clean I can assure you.
Today at the Citadel as I took notes during one of my lessons the Maester of Culture and Writing had an odd exercise. To copy a paragraph of Deleuze and Guattari’s A Thousand Palateaus on to a blank piece of paper, take it home and copy it again.
Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve copied whole chapters of forgotten lore by hand? I haven’t done that menacing task since high school! And this isn’t some small chapter! It’s a whole f***ing page and half!!! I’m sitting here writing and old habits start resurfacing, stabbing my page with my pen without warning and shit. And that’s just the first copy! What the f***?!?! This is the 21st century! Nobody does this s*** anymore!! I barely finished writing my notes in high school! I had to photocopy that s*** ‘cause I’m a slow writer!
A few hours later:
I have managed to move on to the second copy now and during my journey I have stabbed my pad several time breaking my pen, hit the pad and my desk with my fists quite forcefully and thrown my writing pad against the wall. All in all high school all over again. I see the habits that I thought died with my senior year hopes of going to the ball have come back to visit me in my time of hysteria. The scribbles that are supposed to be the second copy resemble what my 8th grade teacher would’ve described as ‘save’uga moa’ (chicken shit). I swear if my lecturer says something tomorrow I’m going to stab him in the face with the very pen that I have used to orchestrate the madness he passes off for an exercise.
A few hours after tutorial the next day:
I had a dream he would do that. Well not so much a dream but a nightmare. He had us write out the paragraph a third time. This time my word pad did not fly across the room nor did my pen become an instrument of murder gliding across its lined victim. Instead I complied albeit resentfully as one would when they are forced to write out lines that make no sense to them. I didn’t even bother finishing this time. I had resigned to my fate.
As I stared at my roster while at work today I realized 30 hours a week and Uni was going to drive me insane. That and my boss had forgotten the fact that I have a 2 hour class at 4 o’clock on Monday else wise he wouldn’t have rostered me on from 9:30 in the morning to 5 o’clock at night. Hard times ahead. Well mentally anyway. Keep going this way and I’ll be googling how to tie nooses by week 4.
Speaking of hard times Dickens’ book is actually pretty interesting and by interesting I really mean horrific. Who has the gall to destroy the imaginations of young children? They must not have known that the brain of a child is not fully developed back then thus monsters under the bed et cetera, et cetera. Come to think of it child labor was rampant in the 19th century and it was only recently that children had come to be thought of as children and not little adults. I sense a promising story ahead of me.
Today as I sit in grounds watching people on their laptops as I take advantage of Uni’s free net I wonder how much my text books will be. Noobs buy text books but in English having your own copy to doodle on and burn the midnight oil with is a must. This semester I have chosen to commit suicide once again by taking a paper where I must read a bible sized book every week. The first of which will be Charles Dickens’ Hard Times and then I’ll be moving on to Vanity Fair by Thackeray. Though I look forward to putting on my 19th Century monocle and spitting Dickens like a sir I have this strange feeling I’ll be staring at a text for an hour wondering what he meant. But so goes the quest to be a Maestar at the Citadel. Soon I shall forge another link to my chain to symbolize my long journey and set of skills acquired over the years.