Tag: Experience

[LEGACY] Undertale

NOTE: There will be a few spoilers in this review. Not major spoilers, but more to do with the core functioning of the game and not to do with the story.
Mentions: EXP, LV (LOVE), Training Dummy, Nature of the game’s “life lessons”, all gameplay routes, that some characters die (but not specified which do), and a brief explanation of the first 5 – 15 minutes of the story.

Undertale is a debated masterpiece by tobyfox, spanning a fandom which has been thriving for years (7 to be generally correct) which still, to this day, sparks the creative fires of its fans.

The last time I played this game was years ago, getting through the game on a pacifist run and getting really fucking stuck on the dummy level. At that point, I didn’t appreciate the music as I was too busy getting super aggravated at the bloody cheating dummy.
If I went back to it now, I’m not certain how well I would fare. I’d possibly do better or there is the possibility I’d do worse, as over the years my style of gaming has changed considerably. (From being a COD and Halo player to Skyrim, Oblivion and Indie games).

Undertale is one of those games that tries to teach you life lessons, but has trouble deciding which life lesson to teach you, as there are so many relevant ones. But also, you are changing all the time as well, and what you consider to be the best decision may not be the same as what you once thought.
It’s not the most groundbreaking game in terms of “I did a wonderful thing, why did things turn to shit?”, no, no, that award goes to the first 15 minutes of The Captain and a few other games I’ve forgotten.

You can play Undertale one of three ways, kill everything in sight (Genocide), kill every minor enemy in sight and spare every major enemy that has a personality (Neutral), or reason with everything and kill nothing (Pacifist).

What the game does, is set you up.

It gives you the basics of the game. Kill things, and it gives you XP, when you level up, you increase your HP. The point that this game makes however is that it never told you to do those things, and further on you can discover that killing people and the creatures you come across is bad (believe it or not).
How bad? Well, if you go on the Genocide Route, one of the main characters reveals to you that EXP is an acronym for “Execution Points”, a commentary on how you’ve mercilessly slaughtered everyone.
Okay, that’s pretty bad, but when you get enough EXP you increase your LV, which is short for LOVE, that can’t be bad, right? Nah, bro, you still fucked up. “LOVE, too, is an acronym.” Apparently standing for “Level Of Violence”, you’re executing of all the innocent creatures and people, levelling up just how much of a violent threat you are.

The neutral path isn’t that much to speak of, characters make remarks about your killing of the minor enemies of the world (which are classed as their citizens, no matter how ugly they are or if they attack you). The major characters will not really be pleased with these actions and will make some, but not all, friendly interactions unavailable, especially with the lawful good-type character.

The pacifist route is probably as you would expect, and while I do love grinding for EXP and advancing my levels, knowing that I can be friends with everyone instead is just so heart-warming. There are honestly a few minor characters that have my heart, one in particular is apparently always made fun of for its appearance, and is crying in its sprite (not the drink, the character sprite). You can console it and tell it that it’s good-looking, and the fight will stop because you’ve cheered it up! Just getting your first little “Awh…” moment is always great.
Especially when coming to the big bosses as well, you will feel compelled to fight as each of the bosses (which is basically every main character) throws everything at you. You almost feel like turning around, saying “This bitch…” and using ye olde Attack button. Dodging every attack and appealing to their humour or trying to calm them down. Rinsing and repeating this a good few times can have you on their good side, and if you’re lucky, you could get a date with someone really great.

The story, as spoiler-free as I can put it, goes as so. You are a human child who, one day, when frolicking in the land humans occupy, fell into a deep, deep hole, onto a very convenient bed of flowers.
Your character, who is called Frisk, apparently, wanders around until she runs into a very nice lady. The thing about this lady is that she’s a monster (but she looks super cute though, so she passes), she nurtures Frisk and looks after them until your character starts wanting to leave.
The very pleasant monster lady, Toriel, panics and informs Frisk that they can’t leave. The only way to get back to the human world, above, is to go through the land of monsters, and they will try to kill any human they see.

Of course, the story can’t progress if you just stay, so you push on. Toriel isn’t having any of it, and this becomes your first battle. I’m sure she says something like “I can’t let you leave as they’ll kill you…” and makes reference to her doing it herself, so it’s less painful?? I’m not certain, I have a weird memory of that happening.
After you decide whether your child character kills the very nice Toriel or not, you’re out into the land of monsters.
From here you meet plenty of other monsters, minor characters, random chance enemies and major characters. Your main objective being “Escape”, but it’s so leisurely as while the monsters are struggling to survive underground… it’s such a beautiful and unique place.
You find out how the world of the monsters works and the lengths they go to pursue and catch you, their hopes and dreams, and their ambitions and morals. They see you as a morally evil being due to the stories that were told about humans and their traumatic history with humans. No wonder they’re hell-bent on killing or capturing you.

Make friends or enemies along the way, discover horrible truths about monsters in general and about others more specifically. Even the practise dummy that you were told to hit by Toriel has beef with you, and it’s super pissed. But the end of this game is not the end, as, debatably, the best feature of this game is in its replayability.

From what I could tell, this game does not encourage you to replay the game, but it has a strange tone about you from the start, almost speaking to you like an old friend.
But upon restarting the game, it’s immediately made known to you that the game knows you’ve restarted the game and will make commentary on your actions within the last run. Whether you killed everyone, killed no one or didn’t finish the game, it’s onto you.
It turns out that you’re still playing the game, the choices that you’ve made impact your next play too. Though this is a “new” playthrough with a “new” Frisk, it’s hinted at that this is the same Frisk. Time rewinds and Frisk has full recollection of what happened in the previous game, whereas only a few of the monsters do, the rest of them are reset and have no memory of what happened. Even dying if you killed them the first time around. I’m sure at one point, a character you killed in the game before said something about dying in a dream when you start a new run.
One of said characters directly calls you out on this with it’s always snarky tone, and one alludes to knowing, and depending on the route you take, will reveal to you how much they know.

This game is an expertly crafted machine.

However, the dark side of this game does not really come from within the game itself.
People can find this game unappealing if it’s not the type of game for them, they may find the game ugly, or uninteresting, which are all perfectly valid. (But how can you not enjoy the music? I listen to this on repeat unironically.)

The real problem with this game is the toxic fandom.
Real, great things come out of the fandom, going on from being completionists to lore hunters and theorists. Branching off that into discussing alternate universe versions of the characters and shipping other characters and art and… I could go on. Fandoms are wonderful.
But one thing that this fandom is the absolute worst for is toxic backseat-gaming.

We will look at the case of Markiplier (yes this is the second time I’ve mentioned him in my reviews, I used to be a gigantic fan, leave me alone) and his Undertale experience. Not the video itself, but the mass number of comments in his videos relating to the toxic fandom attacking him over his choices in the game.

Markiplier, of his own volition, heard about the popularity of Undertale and decided to see what the fuss was about. What he was about to learn is that the overwhelmingly positive feedback of the game had led to overwhelmingly expectant fanatics of the game.

“Undertale is just oozing with charm, so get ready for an adventure! Moreover, my friends would not shut up about it, so I had to see the game for myself!”

The Description of Markiplier’s Video.

Alas, he made the mistake of recording it and putting it on YouTube.


He managed to get a few playthroughs into the game before his choices enraged the overly expectant section of the fandom. Bear in mind, like in all cases, political, cultural, religious, fandom-based, the majority are usually never the “problem” when it comes to issues “created” by said group. Instead, it is usually those who shout loudest, the vocal majority that are usually the issue (as typically, the true majority of these groups want to be left to enjoy their shit in peace.)
The vocal majority of the Undertale fandom is comparable to the stereotype of ‘feminism’ used to denigrate it, or the many “Karens” used to justify why your cousin’s newborn daughter shouldn’t be called that. So, when people mention the “Undertale Fandom”, they immediately think about the vocal majority, instead of the true majority.

“Everyone was disappointed in the way I was playing it, and ordinarily I would just be like: ‘Y’know, I’m doing it my way. I’m gonna do this,’”

From a Kotaku Interview.

Markiplier only got two videos into Undertale before the pressure of the wave of toxic fans of the game had completely overrun his comment section. A combined total of almost an hour of video, and Mark reading out all the dialogue to make it entertaining, had meant he’d not reached the first town yet. Which, on a solo playthrough without an audience to entertain, would take a lot shorter of a time.
Mark did not get to really even experience the game, as something he’d done within the game, had made the toxic fandom so mad they had to harass him.

He gave a fan-favourite character… a “redneck voice”.
Oh, the humanity! How dare he give a character which has no voice, a voice that is the wrong voice! How is it the wrong voice? It just is!

Oh, and he’s doing the genocide route instead of being a pacifist and completely missing all the friendships that he could’ve made, and that’s not how the story is supposed to be canonically… Wrong! You HAVE to play it pacifist first so that you can feel the PAIN of killing everyone and tugging at your heartstrings, oh my goodness, it’s just so wrong.

There are more threatening comments than this. This one was the more “on the fence one” before it got nasty.

The wave initially overflowed his chat with a wave of insults towards the voice and the fact that he was killing things because it’s not the way that they believe the game was intended to be played.
There were then people trying to “reason with Mark” by pointing out why he should do the pacifist run instead. These explanations were overly detailed and spoiled a lot of the game for him.

“I’m not having fun making these videos because I know that no matter what I do, everyone will think I’m wrong.”

From a Kotaku Interview.

“I feel like I missed out on [Undertale] because people ruined it for me… Even though this game is wonderful, I feel like I missed out on it because people tried to control it too hard. And that’s a lesson to learn about something that you care for very deeply. Allow other people to experience it in the way that it should be because that’s what the game is about. That’s a lesson to learn for both the community that facilitates around Undertale and life in general in anything that’s not Undertale. Let it have room, to breathe…trust the people that you care about to find their own way, and make their own mistakes, and discover new things you may have never seen. It’s about trust, you know?”

~Markiplier at the second attempt of playing through it on a livestream.

It wasn’t only Mark who was affected by this onslaught of negativity, it had hit the entire side of YouTube that was playing the game the way they wanted to.
People who had newly started the game, knew nothing of what they were “supposed to do” and were going into it blindly, as you should with games.
Attacks were being felt on all fronts.
And you can tell how bad a fandom is when it garners the response of the creator.

There is more than this from TobyFox on the whole “bad fandom” thing, but I could only find the one where people were spoiling the game. Which is bad enough in itself, but not as bad as harassment.

I won’t go on for much longer about the fandom, as it’s honestly not something that’s wrong with the game itself.
It’s actually a sign as to how, when something is so good, that it brings together everyone to be so passionate about the game. It’s just unfortunate that they turn into mindless drones of “You’re wrong, this is the right way to do it.”
Tobyfox was probably one of the people who were most affected by it, seeing their creation as an instrument used to excuse why people are turning so sour against people who are only trying to enjoy the game.

At one point, I’m confident that TobyFox even reached out, on Twitter, to condemn this behaviour. If not, there was something said, as I remember the massive uproar from both sides of the community.

However…
In conclusion, this game is a subjective masterpiece. Not everyone will like the game, and not everyone will like certain parts of the game, be it pacifist or genocide. But this game, single-handedly, made such a significant dent that the impact of it will be felt until the next considerable upset.
A game with a core that powerful that it drove people to be toxic (who were probably already just as vain/toxic and needed something to latch onto) to passionate levels and seek those who were in the wrong. All that mattered to me was the tricky boss fights, the freedom to choose and the epic music (which I listen to unironically).

Zest Rating
9.5 Out Of 10. Golden Lemon, super Zesty.
This game is a look into the masterpieces that TobyFox can achieve. I’ve still not played deltarune and need to. Powerful enough of a story to give toxic fans a backbone to aggressively backseat regular players. The outstanding soundtrack and plot-loop is genius. I would stream the game, but we all know why I don’t.

Please bear in mind that this is a repost. There have been slight changes to the post such as spelling and grammar fixes, images added, and things generally organised in the fashion I'd like them presented.  Apart from that, the main context of the review has not changed, opinion has not been altered and everything is sacred. I look forward to writing for you all again.
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Happy Birthday to me…

For those of you that know me, most of you will not know when my birthday is. You may have an inkling, but asides from that, you won’t know the date or probably even the rough week that it is.
Those of you will this lack of knowledge will, however, have knowledge of why there’s this tiny, tiny, insignificant space in your brain’s spreadsheet of birthdays. I severely dislike birthdays.

Birthdays are a celebration of your age, up until a certain point in your life you’re edging that “one year older, I need to be older” until you hit that limit, but you keep getting older regardless.

Mum says I won’t know these things ’til I’m older, I need to get older.

I can’t get on this super fun looking ride at the fair, when I get older I get taller, I need to get older.

I don’t have enough money, and my parents won’t buy me this. I need to get older, so I can get a job.

I need to get older, so I’m legally allowed to have sex, learn to drive, get married or buy my own pet.

I need to be older, so I can buy my own alcohol, own my own property and leave home without parental consent, vote, get tattoos…

Everything that we want out of life is goal orientated towards getting older, it gamifies the system. That integral part of ageing is akin to levelling up and the only thing you need to do is sit back, keep your hands inside the boat and just stay afloat.
But after that, there’s nothing else.
Levelling up in a game that boasts no benefits to the player for doing so. Some players have friendships and clan members who recognise this occasion and give what they can out of their already limited inventory to “celebrate”, moreso this is just more things that you don’t need or things that will be consumed quickly. Even worse if it’s an event consumable that is useless until after the event is finished, specifically celebratory greetings cards. These either clog inventory, or get thrown out or destroyed, serving no purpose other than to be thrown away.

Maybe it’s just me, but it’s useless.
Most I know treat it this same way, and once they realise the futility of it, the celebratory nature evolves into one of them drowning their sorrows in alcohol, pretending that it’s the night of their lives.
“It wasn’t a fun night, unless you don’t remember what happened. That’s how you know it was fun.”

Playing a game that you’re already tired of, which has no benefit as you’ve already reaped the best awards, those awards now meaningless as most only further your degradation into debt or emotional debt. Like any other Online MMO, essentially.

This is also where the other side of things slow down too. If you’re using your birthday to celebrate your life and accomplishments, what have you even done within the past year to celebrate? To some, living is enough, and they would be right, honestly. The trivial pursuit of life itself is worth the celebration, but do they dignify themselves with those same standards?

This sort of line of thinking that reminds me of that ADHDinos comic. Or at least I’m sure it’s that comic.

Are you celebrating your birthday? No, I did fuck all this year and thus have nothing to celebrate.
My birthday is coming up soon, and I did fuck all too, so I shouldn’t celebrate mine either? NO! You did lots this year! Even if you think it was shit or not a lot, you kept yourself alive blah blah blah… Double standards everywhere.

It even comes down to the point that I’ve literally bought a house and, despite cutting it super fucking close, I’m going to have moved in before my birthday. I have about 3 weeks to do so, but y’know, almost there. I still want nothing to do will celebrating my life, my brain makes every excuse under the sun to deny my own celebrations, and when it can’t find a “good reason”, yuck, celebrating my birthday? How self-centred.

Celebrating someone else’s birthday, on the other hand? LET’S FUCKING GO.
What do you like? What do you like to eat? Where do you like to go? What do you like to play? What do you play it on? Do you use Amazon? Would you use a gift card if I gave you one? I sent a box of chocolates to your address. I bought a redeemable code for Hogwarts University for you, and you can’t just tell me to use it because I don’t have a PlayStation/ I already have the game. And I can’t refund it. I know you wanted these things because despite what I say about forgetting everything that anyone ever says, when it comes to someone wanting something, I somehow can materialise an extensive library of what everyone I love wants that not even I knew of until this precise moment, then will systematically forget about it until someone else’s birthday. I made a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and don’t worry, I know you’ll probably be busy on the day, that’s why I’m ready to change the reservation date at a moment’s notice.

Honestly, once again, double standards start to show, but this time I have an ace up my sleeve.

Is it because I’m unhappy? Is it because I have ADHD? Is it because I’ve had a mentally and emotionally traumatising childhood? Or is it because I’m just a miserable bastard?

I like to believe that it’s all of the above.

I genuinely hate it when anyone decides to celebrate my birthday.
— The focus is on me, ew.
— Someone is trying to take my wants/needs into account when I’m not used to that, ew.
— Someone who is usually never taking my wants/needs into account when they should is feigning responsibility and pretending they care for a day, so they can keep an emotional hold on me using guilt, ew.
— People I don’t know that well know my birthday, ew.
— People that I don’t want to inconvenience in any way, fret and pressure themselves to get me something for my birthday, mega ew.

Yeah, there’s just so much and I want none of it. So many people hate being reminded of their birthday because after a certain point age becomes insulting in a way. “Happy 30 Birthday!” It is one that makes people lose their shit.

Birthdays are for me, what Christmas is for kids who’ve just been told Santa isn’t real.

Do I require money? Yes, I do. Do I like “things”? Yes I do. But it gives me nothing when it’s from someone else. The best form of gifts are the ones you give, not the ones that are received. Awkward concept if everyone is like me, but they’re not. There are people who love gifts and people who like gifts, you figure out who those people are, and you give gifts to them. The people who do not like receiving gifts? Don’t give them gifts.
Actually, idea. Wait a month or two, and invite them out to lunch and pay for it. They’ll still dislike that, but they’ll dislike it a lot less than being given a gift.
Or, if you really, REALLY, want to give them a gift, there are two options. Give them either the gift of advice/help or the gift of food. Ask them if there’s anything they need help with; laundry, decorating, finding a specific brand of snacks that are out of stock in their local store, helping them understand what the heck solicitors are saying when they’re moving house, sign up to that stupid phone game they play and use the referral code. That helps our small, simple minds out a lot.
And in regard to food, go with them on their grocery trip, pay for a few things, or ask them what they usually buy and when they buy it. Things that last a long time go well, tinned goods, microwave rice. Nothing that is expensive or that they’ll know is expensive.

Basically, treat them like your little end-of-the-world, doom-hoarder buddy, stocking the pantry of their bomb shelter.

By the time this posts I’ll be days away or days past being 25, and honestly, I consider this “halfway” through my life.
Currently listening to Pokémon Diamond, Pearl & Platinum – Champion Cynthia Battle Music, is this the appropriate time to consolidate on how far I’ve come?

I honestly don’t intend on living past 50, so shouldn’t this space of my life be where I take off? Or should that have been the previous 25 years?

It matters now, it won’t matter in a few hours once I’ve forgotten. I’ll continue to live life playing frogger on the many trains of thought running through my mind at once.

Everything has really picked up within the last 2 years.
I’ve gone from living comfortably with emotional and mental abuse at home, with a LDR girlfriend who would not only empower me to fight against it (building me up), to gaslight me over her substance abuse and my mental illness (to tear me down). I’ve been through a lot for me, if anyone else was in my position, I don’t doubt they would’ve handled it a lot better than me.
So many people with “just do this” and “I would personally…”. I honestly don’t doubt that everything everyone says is as easy as they say it is but, my green on button to make my brain do things requires a virgin sacrifice, and it’s hard to find those these days.

From the breakup I started branching out, dating and breaking, dating and breaking kinda turned me into something else. I’m very broken, but in this weird broken state I’m able to do a lot more than what I could before. 1 break up and I could date someone else, 2 break-ups, and I was okay travelling hours by myself to meet people. 3 and I gained a lot more confidence with people and discovered peculiar personality traits about myself.

I started looking for a flat, then I stopped, then I started again, viewed one, didn’t get it, stopped. Started looking again, viewed a bunch and managed to purchase one.

My habits concerning doing and experiencing new things all have a pattern. I’m extremely malleable, but to stretch I need to be put to my current limit then left to rest, I return to resting form. The next time I’m put to my limit, the limit is further than previous, kinda like fitness.

Regardless of me, I can’t help but think that other people’s help and other people’s moral support helps me a lot more than I help myself. (Because peer pressure only affects me when it’s guilt induced, therefore I only get stuff done that way because I don’t want people to be disappointed in me.)

I’ve helped a lot of people in the past, financially, emotionally, physically, but I brush it off and forget about it because it doesn’t matter. It’s my time and I, personally, am a waste of time, so it works out at a net gain if I actually help.
But when others help me it means so much to me, because you’re wasting your time, helping A waste of time, basically doubling your time wasted. And as much as you’re fucking stupid for helping me, I love you lots and will never forget it.

To those who’ve helped emotionally.

To those who’re there for me.

To those who’re just there and they don’t even really know they’re helping because it’s honestly just their company that keeps me sane.

Thank you.

If you’ve read this far, this post was not done with a clear intention or goal, it was just a rant post. Legacy posts are still happening every Sunday (I almost fell behind, oops.) and new posts will come soon. Thanks again.

~ Jinx

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Moving In – Part 2 of ? (Procrastination and Awkward Induced Anxiety)

Here we are, 13 days from when I posted my last blog about moving in, and what have I done since then? Sweet fuck all.
Why? Fuck knows.

So we’ll start with the scheduled things.
I got my shelving unit delivered on the 9th. That was one of the few deliveries that was on time out of the three.
Two, quite skinny and lanky, men struggled to lift the shelving unit up to my flat, up the two flights of stairs. I held the door on both counts, the bottom one to get into the complex and my personal door.
Apart from that, my offer to help otherwise was declined. I felt like a massive dweeb, pain in the arse… Apparently one of the dudes wasn’t getting paid? I don’t know. I don’t know why I even brought it up, probably something to do with the fact they had to carry this huge piece of IKEA furniture up two flights of stairs.

So from there, all the little bundles of tat, or “tack”/“tak” as my co-worker (BR) calls it, that were in piles around the flat (neat piles thank-you!) are now all comfy comfy in the shelf.
Is it organised? Partially. What’s the other half doing? Shoved on there haphazardly as I just wanted it off the floor so that everyone could do the dinosaur.

So yeah! That’s 9/11 out of the way, thankfully avoided any disasters.

Big pause between the 9th and the 15th. I spent most of my time, between then and… then…, looking for “things”. I know what I need, I just have been putting off getting it, and I don’t know why. Some sort of mental block going on.
I believe that’s when another co-worker of mine (DK) mentioned to me about SCS having a sale and the whole 4 years no APR pay monthly thing… Sorry DK, I did look. I still have the tab on my browser open with the couch in my basket. I almost paid for it, but I keep getting cold feet.

So yeah, that keeps happening. I keep getting cold feet about buying specific things.
Some things, I can look back on it and sort of pretend I know the reason and nod my head, “Hmm, yeah, I see why you’re being a pussy.” because let’s face it. I can’t drive, and I need to ask people to hire a van to move things (if I’m not ordering it from a company), and the whole MySchedule and ThierSchedule and the SellerSchedule needing to ALL LINE UP. Not only that, but I already had trouble with seller’s schedules conflicting with mine, let alone a third person.
I keep seeing fridge/freezers on Facebook Marketplace and other heavy-yet-important-to-home-living items, and I just feel so damn awkward asking for help.
So do I procrastinate? Yes, but out of how awkward I feel, I do it on semi-purpose.

Also, it would fucking help if sellers replied to me. That’s another thing putting me off. I’ve come to 17 dead ends with non-repliers when trying to source major appliances. Fucking talk to me, you morons, or take the thing off the marketplace, god-damn it.

Then! Out of nowhere… Depressive cycle.
The joys.

So, 15/11 is the day in which I was to “receive” two things.
Paint
Smart Meter.

I paid extra money to get DHL to deliver the paint to me between 8am and 12pm. This is because the person coming to install the smart meter was to be at the flat between 12pm and 4pm.

….

Not only do I HATE multiple things happening in the one day, I hate it more when they happen at the same time. Especially when it includes multiple people scheduled to be at my place. I don’t want them meeting each other! It’s weird. They make it weird. I make it weird. Everyone gives each other weird looks, and I can’t stand the awkward exchange!

Anyway, so the paint doesn’t come. It’s 13:45, 1 hour and 45 minutes into the time the smart meter guy is supposed to get here. I see the… Seimens… van pull into the car park. He sits in the van for about 15 minutes. Cool.
So after 1 hour of him being there, fiddling with things, electric box screeching twice driving me a little loopy, he comes through and tells me that the box that he’s been sent out with, that’s registered to my address, isn’t working and that I have to reschedule. He fit a new box in, so now I also have to phone to get a voucher for the money I lost with him reinstalling another box.

Okay.

So he’s still there, fitting this new box, I received an email from DHL.

“Your Wilko parcel has been delayed by 24hrs.”
What. The Fuck.

You bet your arse, I went immediately and made a case about being refunded the difference between a standard delivery charge and the price I paid to have it delivered SPECIFICALLY within those times on that day. I had waited the entire 4 hours between 8am and 12pm at the flat, because I know what it’s like. It says it’s not being delivered yet, but you cross the street to Greggs to get your fucking bacon and omelette roll and look at your phone, it’s already tried to be delivered and being sent back to the fucking depot.
I also needed to get scissors. I got really pissy I couldn’t go and buy scissors, because I was hyperfixating on painting something and I really needed scissors. That and I asked my BFF/co-worker (AH) if they required me to pick up her painkillers beforehand, expecting to at least have 30 min between delivery and smart meter. The amount of anticipation fuelled rage…

Smart meter guy is finished putting shit back, and there’s a knock on my door at 2pm.
IT’S THE FUCKING PAINT.
I’M SO FUCKING DONE.

Smart meter guy’s getting finished up and taking his stuff back to his van, I have my jacket on as I’m about to rush to boots to get the meds and here’s the delivery guy. WHEN I’M JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE. I ALMOST MISSED IT, FOR NO REASON. And, it would be my fault, wouldn’t it?

Later that day I’m with my BFF (AH), I have her painkillers, and we’ve had our walk and our complain while walking the dog. You know, usual friend stuff.
I’m doing my usual, seeing her in the door, and she asks me if I want chairs.

Yes? Chairs? What kind of chairs?

Turns out one of her ground-floor neighbours are moving to a bigger flat, which is essentially just down the road, and they’re getting rid of some of their things. Outside their door are some basic white chairs, whether they’re dining chairs or not, I’m not sure. There’s no padding, they’re just wooden round chairs. Haven’t taken a picture yet, but I’ll add it here when I do.
They’ve been there for a bit before. I would’ve taken them sooner if it wasn’t for the last time I almost took them, being some football game day. I would’ve felt really awkward and weird walking past at least 75+ people crowding the pavement and street I need to walk down, to head to my flat, awkwardly carrying two white chairs.

(All above text was done while, I think, slightly drunk. I don’t drink, and I tried someone’s pink smoothie tequila shot, and I can see I rambled and ranted a lot. I am going through a stressful time right now, not because of moving, so I guess it took the edge off a bit.)

Did I mention that this entire time, I’m actually off work? I have a fake rota set up in my family house so that I won’t be disturbed while doing my thing. As my family like to completely take over my days off. I’m actively pretending to go to work, to go to my flat and work on things.

So I fucked up my days, and went back to my parents when I’d scheduled the next day to be a 5.30am start. Usually, I’d stay at my flat so that I didn’t actually have to get up. This time, however, I had to wake up at 4am, “get ready”, and “walk to work”. It was about 5:10 by the time I got there, and I just went to my flat and went back to sleep. It gave me the worst headache as I’d already walked the 10-min walk in the cold 5am air, so I was pretty awake, forcing myself to sleep is never good, but it was needed.
The cover for me staying at the flat is that I’m staying at my bffriend’s (AH) house, and she’s essentially kidnapping me for a night, so I don’t have to pay the bus fare back home.

22/11

I bought a knife block. No knives. Needed a paint, painted it.
The painting of the desk is almost finished, just the small bits left to go, and having to leave them to dry again for 14-16 hours. I never thought it would be so exhausting waiting. The black and gold strips I tried to do didn’t turn out as well as I wanted them, apparently it would’ve been better if I’d used frog tape? But I had no idea that existed until I was looking for more masking tape.

The room I’m painting purple isn’t going as well as planned. After ordering more paint, of the same brand, make and number, and name… it’s a different colour. Looking it up online, I discover that because new paint has more water in it, it’s a lighter colour? Fucking bollocks. Having to repaint the room, at least it’ll take fewer coats. THAT, and I’ve also discovered that what I thought was a nasty pink paint job was actually an excellent nasty-pink wallpaper job. I found this out after coming out of ADHD autopilot after having picked at a bubble in the wall…

I’m procrastinating on getting a fridge freezer and a washing machine after the guys had such difficulty getting the shelving unit all the way up to my flat. I know that’s what they’re hired to do, but I’m a little mentally stuck because I feel bad.
The woman next door was getting rid of her cooker, I’m not sure if she’s cleaned it yet because I’m basically never in the flat. She said I could have it once she cleaned it, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever know when that is.

The little cupboard space in the close outside my flat, I’m planning on putting a keypad lock on it so that when I get packages delivered, they can pop them in there. I’ve taken off all the handle and things, but left the little lock hatch on because of “where I live”. Meaning that you can kind of expect any open door you have to be occupied by someone it doesn’t belong to if you leave it open. Sheds, cubbies… Anything that’s big enough to sleep in with a door on it.

I’ve also forgotten how to turn on the heating. I feel like an idiot. I do however have my electric blanket, so I’m not exactly freezing in bed… the entire time…

I got stopped at Wilkos because I was buying cutlery. Kitchen knives, but you know those table-knives, not actually for dicing and cutting things. I need to be over 25 to buy them. I’m bloody 24 and I’ve bought my first house.
Just reading up on it there, at 16, despite being able to fuck and marry, you’re still considered a child in the UK (based on what I briefly skimmed on the search results blurb) so if you’re homeless from 16 -17 :

If you’re 16 or 17 and homeless, you’ll usually be provided with accommodation by Children’s Services at your local council.

www.gov.uk

That or both guardians need to sign the lease or whatever?
But from 18, that’s you, on your lonesome. Are you supposed to get other people to buy you knives to eat with and cook and prepare food with for 7 years until you’re old enough? Despite being old enough to buy a house?

I still got my knives. I’m proabably not going to use them until I’m 25 right enough at the rate I’m moving, but come on.
And, because of the way I am, the woman was like “Are you over 25?” I obviously respond, “No, I’m 24.” and start to get my wallet out to get my provisional driver’s licence. She asks me again if I’m over 25 with more of a say yes vibe, I say no again because I’m not lying about that shit. I got ignored and greenlit on the knives. Okay, whatever. Greatful for the knives but damn, just say “then you cant have them.” and do the job right lmao.

These past few weeks have been weirdly taxing, and I’ve done fuck all.

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Moving In – Part 1 of ?

I expect this series to be longer than the trilogy I did about my move.

So I’ve bought my house, now what? I got the keys and everything is mine, and I don’t really know what to do with myself.
The first time I got in, I wandered around then lay in the centre of my unfurnished living room for a good 30 minutes just… existing.

The house’s previous owners showed me how to work everything, which I’ve immediately forgotten, except from the one thing that rarely happens that they taught me how to fix. Funny how I seem to only remember the difficult things.
I’ve got a gas card and an electricity key.
I’ve got two sets of house keys and 1 key for the downstairs door to the block.
A small key to the cupboard outside my flat that has been used as storage, but I will probably use it to dry clothes or something.

And that’s it.

Okay, so that’s not entirely it. One of the customers from my work brought in a spare kettle and a toaster. I have never used a toaster, and it’s crumby as all hell, there’s already a shit ton of crumbs over my worktop now, so I’ll have to find a workaround for that.

And yeah. First day of “moving in” and I have a kettle and a toaster, (that I don’t even really know if they work) fun.

Day two and I’m using time to my advantage.
It’s probably not long before my parents figure out that I’ve bought a flat, so I need to use the element of surprise to attack.
Hah.

So I have this big reusable bag from The Works, thank you The Works, that isn’t see-through at all AND it zips up. So on this second day, this pishing wet second day, I packed as many boxes as I could carry and zipped the fucker up.
No peaking on the inside, no wet on the inside.
My mum now thinks I’ve given my co-worker one of my Xboxes.

Carrying that sucker was another thing.
It’s not a far walk, but I’m used to carrying everything on my back or doing the “I’M NOT MAKING MORE THAN ONE TRIP FROM THE CAR TO THE HOUSE, SO IM GOING TO CARRY EVERYTHING AT ONCE!” grocery haul.

Dumped all the boxes out and left my bag to dry on the installed jacket rack by the door and went to work… 1 hour and 30 minutes too early. Shit. I could’ve unpacked them.

Baring in mind that all my boxes are full of tat. Books, pens, pencils, DS games, coins, cables… Yeah, I don’t have a lot of useful things to take with me.
The only “big things” I’ll be moving from my room will be my TV and my PC. I’ll be moving my old PC tower as well as I’d like to get back into building PCs, and I can at least make a relatively shitty one from spare parts I get.

A couple of boxes down, a few more to go… Then clothes and big things.

24/10

My first ever Facebook Marketplace buy was a tiny little Super Mario Mushroom lamp…

Yep…

I don’t regret it at all.

Biiig time jump.
Well maybe not big, but it’s 03/11, 3rd of November for the people who put the date incorrectly…

I currently have a fully functional bed via Facebook Marketplace, and one of my co-workers (AH) knew them and greenlit the purchase. Amazing.


Went into Wilkos for the duvet, duvet sheets, pillow sheets and the pillows. No disappointment there. Except the fact they never have the tester pots of paint I want, but have the full canister, but when they have the tester pots and I buy them, and they’re the right one, I come back and there’s none of the big pots. Fuck sake. I now have one wall fully painted purple, 3 walls with a half coat, a tiny tub of “Lemon Pop” to test and see if it’s the rubber duck yellow I want.

A lot more of my things are now at the flat, I transported my first bag of clothes today that only really consisted of 6-ish items. My rucksack is great at carrying objects, but gets full after 6 clothing items, because they’re all kinda puffy, you know?

I’m getting a smart meter put in on the 15th of November for free, and I’m getting a bookcase/display shelve unit thing delivered on the 9th that I’d reserved earlier. Still not got a microwave or an oven or a sofa or a washing machine… but we’ll get there. I just keep getting distracted by shiny objects such as TRIO BINS!!! FOR SPLITTING YOUR RECYCLING. And MATCHING MAGAZINE HOLDERS! And STORM CLOUD PREDICTOR!!!
Yeah, I need to fucking settle down. ADHD man, the “SQUIRREL!” thing is slightly incorrect. It’s more of a magpie vs shiny things and priorities.

Update on the kettle and toaster, well no, just the kettle, I don’t actually have use for a toaster. The kettle works, albeit it’s fucking slow to boil 1 cup worth of water.

I now have an uninstalled 50-inch TV from one of my co-workers (DK). Their old TV mind you, I have no idea what they’re upgrading to but the fact they gave me that for free is mind-boggling. Hoisting that up my 2 flights of stairs was fun, as was hauling the double bed mattress.

Assembling my bed was probably one of the best, and funniest moments so far, and it’s probably one I’ll remember for a bit too long. One of my co-workers (BR) came over and sat down and helped me build it. 5 minutes in, and she’d already smacked herself in the head by essentially headbutting a piece I’d been holding up with my foot/knee for the entire time. I learned so many new swear words that day and that I should really keep an eye on such a clumsy person like that, making MY bed. She does claim to be “the best” however, at almost everything, I just remind her that she’s Bob the Builder as Bob is short for her full name and she has a toolbox.
I did however have to say “hello” to my downstairs neighbours again, just to remind them that I’m not an English bitch that swears so much she’d make a sailor blush. Not THIS sailor, however! I blush at EVERYTHING!

I’ve slept in the house… maybe like 4 times now. It’s starting to feel like mine.
I don’t know if a lot of people get this kind of imposter syndrome, but I started really noticing it while I was with my last girlfriend.
I can’t sleep in someone else’s house, in someone else’s bed. I just can’t. I mean, I can when I pass out obviously, but I can’t go to sleep comfortably, and I’m constantly on edge during that too, the slightest noise will wake me.
It was the first experience in my flat when I slept in my new bed for the first time, (also because the mattress isn’t as sturdy as the one at my parent’s and I just sank, and it was weird.) and it was the same when I slept in my ex-girlfriend’s bed with her and when I slept in my co-worker’s bed when I was looking after her flat and cats while she was on holiday. It’s just odd.
But I seem to have got over it, and honestly, I’m preferring this a lot more. Except the stupidly over-soft mattress. I’ll change that when I can be bothered.

But yeah, it’s honestly looking great. I’ve just got my council tax letter, and it’s all looking like I’ll have all the bills in check soon.

The people who said I wouldn’t be able to handle this were so wrong… It’s actually weird how wrong they were.

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Buying a “House” (Flat) – Part 1 of 3

Note: This is not a guide, but a partial sequence of a full event that I’m currently in the middle of.

I’m currently in the middle of purchasing property for the first time in my life. Now as of writing this I’m 24 years old, and 6 years over the “You’re an adult now, we’re going to boot you out the nest.” threshold.
As of the late teens of the 2000s, I started investing in a Help To Buy ISA. It something that I was completely unaware of until maybe about a week or two before the whole opportunity to get one was closed off to the public, and not that long off being ineligible to start one due to my age at the time.
It was something that was very “detached” to me, as money (showing a weird privilege here) has always been something I’ve been really detached with. But with that lack of bond with money, also comes with a lack of experience in spending it because I never did, and never do spend on myself.
Also, solidifying a lack of experience in transactions and business type things, is also a key contributor to my lack of self-confidence, a lack of experience in life.

I started my first-ever house hunt over a sudden, heavy need for my own space. This need has always been there for me, but it was always fleeting. I was always too “happy” to hold the negative emotion, or it was always too convenient to stay where I was.
Things in my parental household would anger me, sadden and disappoint me. My privacy would feel extremely violated, and I would feel as far as to say, I did not feel safe in my own home.

I have a partial diagnosis of both ADHD and ASD, going as far as to having the verbal diagnosis of a therapist, but nothing in secure writing. My verbal diagnosis was on the cusp of February 2020, by which would’ve been officially recognised later if it weren’t for COVID-19 almost putting a halt to all physical contact everywhere.
So to say that these sporadic and intense urges to move were connected to my mental disability, you’d be onto something there.
This time, however, it’s different. I don’t honestly know what’s fuelling my move. Like a combination of all the small and big things all at once, finally coming together to repair the broken glass. I’m still doing it, I’m still on that train of thought, and I’ve not fallen off for months.

So at first, I was looking at property right across from my work. A second floor flat, 2 bedrooms with a balcony. Situated on the edge of a shitty area, but a colleague of mine (who is a local) informed me that that block is a decent block, and I’ll have decent neighbours.
I went to view the flat and accidentally scared the real estate agent, as I arrived 10 minutes early and caught her coming out of her car.

So to say that these sporadic and intense urges to move were connected to my mental disability, you’d be onto something there.
This time, however, it’s different. I don’t honestly know what’s fuelling my move. Like a combination of all the small and big things all at once, finally coming together to repair the broken glass. I’m still doing it, I’m still on that train of thought, and I’ve not fallen off for months.
People keep asking me, “So how was the flat?” “Did you like it?” “What’s it like?”
Empty.
This bitch empty, yeet.
I am a first-time buyer, I do not have a lot of money to set on a deposit, and I’m buying in a beach-side town. Most property in this area used to be rentals, and they’re all being sold because of new.

The first property I looked at was “great”, and by great I mean there was nothing inherently wrong with the place. And it was a 2-minute walk from work, or 1 minute if you try to traffic dodge.
After a lot of anxiety and faffing around without any confidence whatsoever, I may or may not have hired the first local solicitor I saw and asked them to put an offer on the property.
The bid was unsuccessful, and my bid was 4th from the highest, followed by several others who’d ranked below mine. It was a busy bloody property, with a shit ton of interest.
When going for that property, I listened to the wrong people. A co-worker of mine told me that I was bidding too high initially, as I was close to the market value of the property. And a friend of mine outright said that I was not ready for a move whatsoever, no even ready to buy my own flat. With this confidence blowing measures, I regressed a bit and pulled back, losing me the property. I, however, saw this as an opportunity to build up my tolerance.

I started to view property that I couldn’t afford, picking up some more of the stupid language that’s used specifically for it. Learning the questions to ask estate agents when in the property. I viewed things “way” out of my budget, but keeping realistic with the style that I’d kinda be looking at.
Then, it came up.
Literally 1 property above the one I’d looked at first. I saw it as a sign, and requested a viewing as soon as I saw it pop up.

I went in, and it was dated, and empty. The walls were all painted nice, but unconventional colours, also nice. The dated aspect never bothered me as my things, such as furniture, will be all second-hand anyway. No major damage or anything concerning, nothing needing fixed and nothing worrying. 2 minutes from my work and all it requires is appliances and a bed.
Boom, it’s calling for me, I want it.
I took it. I grabbed that opportunity by the fucking throat.
Not only that, but I made an offer within 24 hours of viewing (as it was the one above the first one, it would be popular as it was cheaper than other flats), market value plus a little extra to give me an edge.
Within that hour, my unofficial offer was accepted.

Now comes the hard part.

Phone calls and endless emails, document gathering, passports, driving licence, prove you have that much, prove you can pay it off per month. The mortgage advisor contacting me every hour to ask for more and more stuff every time. One email she sent me had an opener that had me fucking buckled, though.

To see “Please don’t kill me…” pop up on my email notifications was already funny enough, but from someone I’d consider to “act more professionally” than to use language or a phrase like that was hilarious.

I’m currently now in the process of probably the last few legal documents being exchanged between the mortgage advisor hub and the mortgage lender themselves. (After having to physically go to the bank and get them to print something out, a waste of paper in my opinion). From then, once I’m accepted from the mortgage, I’m pretty sure it’s all about getting the solicitor and the advisor to talk to each other. Then closing down my ISA, getting another statement (ugh, more in-person printing), then putting the money where I’m told to.

Direct debt for the mortgage should be easy enough, but…
Whew…

It’s a lot, but I was ready for this, and I’m glad I’ve done it. I’m getting so much support for doing it and so many people want to help.
There were one or two people who were very adamant I didn’t do this, but honestly, if they were right, then I’d already be fucked mentally right now.

Right now, I feel very on top of things, and it’s been a long fucking time coming.

On getting the house, I’ll post a follow-up, and will be livestreaming my “Keys Day”.
Call me Commander Keys because I’m going down with the ship.

The worse the odds, the better the fight.

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