Rainy Day Activities: Classic Video Games

I contemplated about a dozen different titles and subtitles for this post, including "why I don't have a boyfriend," "things Android can do that your iPhone can't," and "I need to stop living in 1993."  At some point this entire blog shifted from "I'm going to review movies!" to "things I do on Saturdays when I don't feel like brushing my hair or leaving my apartment," so I apologize if anyone is disappointed about that.

For some reason, my most vivid childhood memories are of myself, my older brother, and my cousin playing old school Nintendo in our then unfinished basement on a 70s-vintage orange, floral couch and eating Tombstone pizzas off of the cement floor. Life was good, and I was pretty good at moving Mario from one side of the screen to the other.

And then, we got older: life got more complicated, and video games became far too in-depth for me to be interested in. When games started requiring me to "talk" to the goofy wizard in the forest and actually READ what he had to say in order to understand was I was supposed to do next, I lost interest.

And so here I sit, 21 years old, in 2012, with that same NES console and giant box of game cartridges next to my TV.  With the proper amount of blowing and wiggling and cursing, I can usually get most of the games to still function for awhile, but I know that this will not be forever and that this precious family heirloom (I think it was a hand-me-down from someone to begin with) will become a non-functioning, decorative item on my shelf at some point.

So now that we're all clear on my emotional motivations for this week's Saturday activity, I can begin.  Fortunately, this activity was made possible by a sub-culture of nerdier nerds who can't let go of their pasts either.  They develop the glorious Android apps that made this possible:

Ok, before you make any judgments from the photo, here's what you should be seeing: Original Nintendo games being played on my phone, using a Wii controller, mirrored on my TV.  Only one of those cables is actually necessary.  Oh, and the laptop isn't really part of it either...just needed music.

Legal importances: some of this is kind of stealing, but not in my case.  From what I understand, I can download the games without doing anything wrong as long as I posses a physical copy of the game cartridge.  Or something.  Feel free to make your own judgements about whether or not you give a shit about stealing.

If you care to do this, here's what you'll need to have/figure out:
Android phone + game console emulator from the app market + individual game ROMS
Wii controller app + Wii remote (or another wireless kind)
TV with HDMI in + HDMI cable + HDMI adapter for your phone
...that's about as much detail as I care to delve into because I suspect no one cares.

Oh, and if you've never heard of this whole emulator/ROM process, you can do it on a computer as well. All of your childhood memories at your fingertips to entertain you in class. For free. Maybe illegal.

PS, for BUSMM kids: see that blue/orange thing on the far right?... one of six sleeves of DVDs from the Friends box set. Be jealous.

K bye, have a date with Sonic the Hedgehog.

Music: Music Monday Part III

Ok, so it's still technically Sunday for a few more minutes, but I'm not ready for bed so get over it.

Things:

1. I feel a really sad sense of nerd pride when parts of my library contents are too cool to be in the iTunes store.

2. I'm excited to see Fountains of Wayne in a few weeks.

3. I'm sad that I only recently found Ani DiFranco.

4. I'm watching Friends.

5. My tummy hurts from too many Peeps. 

6. I need to find more original ways to name my playlists.

Rant: Bradley University

In all fairness, I probably can find something negative to say about Bradley University on any day of the week.  But this particular week just happened to be most ridiculous yet.

Since I'm on the way out, it's only right that I take a bit of time to reflect on my experience at Bradley as a whole (in other words, criticize the school).

I'll be fair and start by taking my habits and personality into account: I'm anti-social pretty much all of the time.  That being said, it wouldn't be fair of me to criticize the availability or quality of "extra-curriculars" on campus.  I'm sure they're lovely, I'm just not interested.  The only non-academic activity I've participated in is band.  And, after my 8 semesters of experience in that area at Bradley, I have one major conclusion: the music department deserves more money.  From who or where, I have no idea, but after watching countless other buildings being built on campus, often to benefit Bradley athletics in some way, I am appalled by the sub-par facilities that the music department is stuck with (without much complaining either).  Maybe I'm just a disgruntled percussionist who's tired of being shoved in the back of the stage without enough space to move in, but I wish Bradley University could do better.  The music program itself is great, but the facilities hold it back from being a selling point for prospective students.

Since we've already established that money is a sensitive subject for me, I'll go ahead and point out that Bradley's tuition isn't a hell of a great deal financially (just in case you're lucky enough to be oblivious to that fact).  I'm sure all colleges are expensive, but when I see those numbers roll around each semester and try to justify them with the quality of education I'm receiving, I usually fail.  Don't get me wrong, I've had some totally awesome teachers at Bradley ("some" being a generous term... half a dozen, maybe?) for whom I am eternally grateful, but I've had far more unsatisfactory experiences than not.  I'm not sure I can even recap all of the appalling classroom experiences I've sat through, but just a few off the top of my head:

1. An English teacher who cancelled classes a good 60% of the time. On evaluation day (my favorite!), right after I listed all of my grievances frantically on that piece of paper, she returned to the room to inform us that our evaluations didn't matter because she wouldn't be returning to Bradley. Oh, and that she was sick so often over the course of the semester because it "turns out" she was pregnant. And didn't know. Classy.

2. Another English composition teacher who used class times as nothing more than a soap box for her political opinions (another pet peeve of mine). She often forgot we even had class and one of us would need to go fetch her from her office.

3. A teacher I had the pleasure of experiencing more than one semester. She never knew what was due when and couldn't create a PowerPoint slide without a spelling error to save her soul. After creating a fairly substantial final project, we discussed my grade in her office: I got a B. Everything was great!...except a word I had spelled wrong over 10 times throughout the project. We argued about the spelling of that word for 15 minutes. She was wrong. She didn't adjust my grade accordingly, she just told me I had a bad attitude instead.

4. An art teacher that ran a class without ever even creating a syllabus. There was no grading scale, list of projects, class requirements...nothing. Some nights there was no lecture... because she'd forgotten to bring her laptop from home. There was no evaluation handed out at the end... so there did end up being some substantial tattling on my part to some highly-paid folks on campus.

Fortunately, the teachers at Bradley have not been the most frustrating part.  I'm not sure if everyone has had similar experiences, but I've had some fairly legitimate anxiety attacks caused by the administrative folks at Bradley not having their shit together. The most recent:

1. Fall 2011. I receive an email a few weeks after registration for Spring semester that my spring classes will be dropped due to a hold on my account. Huh? But I already registered?...I'm confused. I was given a phone number to the controllers office and proceeded to converse with three of the RUDEST old women present on this earth. (side note: if you don't like kids/students and don't want to be polite to them, don't work at a SCHOOL.) They informed me that my hold was tuition related. I assured them that my tuition had been paid (in cash, in full, thanks). They referenced unpaid course fees. I checked it out online: TWO of my IM courses had subtracted and then added and then subtracted and then added and then subtracted and then added course fees since tuition had been due/paid. So I owed like $200 that no one had informed me of at any point. Classy.

2. This week's disaster. After somehow becoming my senior project group's frontman at the print shop and jumping through all the hoops to get that done properly, I was excited to relax. My best friend came over Wednesday morning and I started the emptying-of-kitchen-cupboards season by making us pancakes. Halfway through the pancakes I checked my phone and read this email:

I won't detail my emotional and physiological responses. There were quite a few "I need to go somewhere"s and "I need to talk to someone"s blurted out.  Coached by my friend, I printed out my current DARS and somehow managed to tear my apartment in half and find my DARS from fall advising.  I marched in to Martha's office, and then proceeded to cry in this nice stranger's office while she assured me that there had been some type of IT error.

Long story short, I'm glad I pump as much money as I do into Bradley so that I can have teachers who don't show up to class and "errors" that trigger physical and emotional instability. Thanks for everything, Bradley.

Repairs: Janky Headphones

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am unreasonably cheap.  If there's a way to save money on something, I'm going to find it.  It's not a bad way to be.  I thank my mother for this genetic gift.

Fortunately, I am also genetically 50% my father, which means I've been a do-it-yourselfer since conception.  Hell, maybe I even played a role in my own conception...  I'm not going to delve any further in to that.

So what does a cheap DIY-er do when her $20 pair of headphones (that I only paid $10 for, of course) decide to crap out?... Fix them, duh.

Side rant: the disposability of modern goods, namely electronic items, baffles me.  It seems like nothing is designed to last beyond 18 months.  It's another conspiracy: manufacturers have that whole "planned obsolescence" thing, and then marketers convince you that anything over a year old is a dinosaur and may reflect poorly on your social image.  Consumers are equally as guilty.  We've accepted this routine of break-it-and-buy-a-new-one and don't think twice about throwing something in the trash that could be easily repaired.

So since I have varying degrees of cheapness/hoarder/tinkerer pulsing through my veins, I decided to dive into this repair.  It is worth mentioning that this particular brand of headphones (Skullcandy) offers a lifetime warranty/replacement thing.  All you have to do is mail in the broken pair and they'll send you a new pair.  In my own personal opinion, the physical risks of the upcoming repair process were a much more appealing option than having to go wait in line at the post office and get yelled at by a big woman with a mustache.  Just personal preference, though.

After finding some vague instructions online, I realized I didn't have the proper tools for this job.  I was going to need to make a trip to Lowe's (GASP!).  I have a love-hate relationship with Lowe's.  They always have what you're looking for...it just takes 4 hours to find it.  Plus there's always  birds flying around inside.  I hate birds.

A few trips up and down the same aisles later, I found what I needed: a cheap soldering iron kit.  Why, as a 21-year-old, female college student, I know how to use a soldering iron I can't completely say.  I remember as a child my father turning me loose with his to play with.  I made dozens of little puddles of metal and thought it was the greatest thing ever.  Yeah, weird kid.

I got back to my apartment with my new toy and went to town.  I decided to forgo the instructions because, well, I'm clearly an expert.  Repairing the headphones basically consisted of frankenstein-ing (your favorite new verb) the earpieces onto a different cable.  In this case, the cable was sacrificed from my stock iPod headphones.  (Another side rant: why are those so awful, Apple? can ANYONE fit those big flying saucers into their ears!?)

Long story short, my soldering experience served me well.  The only questionable moment was when I dropped the hot soldering iron on my kitchen floor.  Luckily, it turned out fine since I missed my foot and because I live in a rental and I could care less about their vinyl floors.

Oh, and if at any point you wondered if the soldering iron purchase cost more than simply buying new headphones, you would be correct.  Smartypants.

Food: Taco Bell

actually, here's the full title: Food: Taco Bell: The Unsung Heroes ...only that's kind of a lot of colons.

I'm not stupid, I totally get it: fast food is bad for you and Mexican fast food is moderately insulting to real Mexican food.  Regardless, I love Taco Bell and I look forward to the occasional Taco Bell feast.  I spent the last two weeks plotting the perfect timing and situation for my next indulgence so I could finally have my chance with the new Doritos Locos Taco.

Saturday was d-day.  Slightly hungover, I woke up early and went for a run to prep for the feast (side note: I don't run. I ran/walked for 20 minutes and almost died. It won't happen again for at least 3 months).  Like usual, my friend and I squeezed in front of my laptop to peruse the dynamic Taco Bell website to plan out our menu: it's about packing in as many different items without, well, risking death as a result.  We even chose an underrated movie to accompany our Taco Bell underrated-menu-items feast: Religulous.

I won't go into detail about the depths of the "OMG I see Jesus in my taco!" jokes that ran the entire length of the meal.  Just imagine the offensive hilarity that was present.

First Course: Doritos Locos Taco (regular)
I follow quite a few food review blogs and have seen nothing but positive reviews about this junk food engineering wonder, so it was my turn to get my hands on one.

Luckily, Taco Bell understands that I rarely ever want to TOUCH anything covered in Doritos powder, so the taco comes nestled in a handy sleeve for my convenience...or so Taco Bell has yet another chance to shove their social media down my throat.  Kudos, guys.

 

Unfortunately, this sleeve was significantly more difficult for me to navigate than, say, a Hot Pocket sleeve that tears away gradually (why don't more foods come in sleeves?).  When I picked it up to chow down, I actually hesitated for a second because my excitement almost caused me to bite right through the paper.  I surmised that the proper way to handle this was to occasionally slide the taco out the edge of the holder.  I'm still not sure I did it right.  Regardless, it was delicious and everything I hoped it would be.  The Doritos shell added just enough extra flavor to compliment whatever that meat goo is on the inside.  Yum.

Second Course: Fiesta Potatoes

In case you forgot (or never knew), Taco Bell has a 'sides' menu.  Of the three styrofoam-bowl-housed offerings, the potatoes are the clear winner.

These seem to be the cult favorite menu item of T Bell: they're rarely discussed in public, but never does a Taco Bell run lack a few of these thrown in.  I can't describe it any better than the photo presents it, sadly.  Soft, seasoned potatoes are doused in fluorescent cheese goo and sour cream.  They are the comfort food of the Taco Bell menu.  Never a disappointment, mostly because I would hope they're a difficult recipe to screw up.

Third Course: Volcano Taco

If you ask me, this is the one, single Taco Bell item that is the most underrated.  Actually, it's tied with the Volcano Burrito, but that's so big that it's kind of an all-inclusive meal, so it didn't fit into this feast.

If you thought the Doritos shell was an obnoxious color, think again.  This thing makes you question whether you're actually eating a food product.  I suspect the red shell is actually a regular one in disguise, but the addition of the signature Volcano Sauce is enough to mask any other flavor present.  It is glorious.  If I knew a T Bell insider that would smuggle things out the back door for me, every cupboard in my kitchen would be stocked with Volcano Sauce.  I like spicy food and it is freakin' spicy... the kind of spicy that begs for that mysterious Taco Bell blue Mountain Dew.

Fourth Course: 1/2 Pound Cheesy Potato Burrito

Two reasons:

1. I needed a cool-down from that Volcano Taco.

2. I don't do a Taco Bell run without some type of burrito thrown in there.

 

This one is fairly simple.  Those same soft, seasoned potato chunks are combined with some meat, cheese goo, and sour cream.  It's the perfect finish after anything spicy and is guaranteed to make you feel like you're going into a food coma. The texture of the entire thing is mushy and non-descript...in a wonderful way.  Sure, it may not be exciting enough to show its face on a flashy, giant Taco Bell window cling, but it's yummy and reliable, unlike some of my other past favorites (XXL Chalupa, Big Taste Taco, anything featuring bacon...) that are inevitably stolen away from me and packed deep within the Taco Bell vault, never to be seen again.

Which brings me to a (another) side note: my consistent social media monitoring helped me discover that the Doritos Locos Taco is going to be a permanent menu item, for anyone who cares.

Thousands of calories and countless Bill Maher praises later, that familiar deathly feeling set in and I was once again satisfied by my glorious Taco Bell.

Rant: Movies.

As sad as it is to say, the people I encounter on a daily basis are rather disappointing.  In general, I try to force myself to maintain that people are good/nice/whatever, but that their crappy behaviors and decisions should be attributed to “not knowing any better.”  As someone who was practically born overly self-aware, I recognize that not all people analyze and re-analyze and over-analyze their daily choices, but sometimes I wish people would think twice about stuff occasionally.

Most frustrating example: media consumption choices.

Granted, I am by no means an expert or snob.  I like my fair share of crappy movies and shitty bands and I don’t have a problem owning up to it.  This is the written disclaimer that makes me less of a hypocrite.

Part 1: Movies.

I am fully convinced that the folks in Hollywood churning out most of the popular movies of the last 5 years are linked together in a giant conspiracy to exploit the stupidity of Americans.  On any given day, there is at least one (probably multiple) movies in theaters based on a recycled story.  Disney continues to make bank by re-releasing decades-old movies and slapping “remastered” on them, as if Joe on the street can really see any difference.  In only my 21 short years, I’ve seen the books, TV shows, video games, and toys of my childhood be unoriginally adapted to the big screen.  Alvin and the Chipmunks?  Really?  Hollywood had to ruin my favorite annoying Christmas sing-a-long tape?  As much as the exploitation of my childhood memories angers me, I am more frustrated by the creation and consumption of such films.  For every one awesome, original, and technologically innovative film that Pixar has released in their time, there have been a handful of cheesy, recycled stories with fart jokes shoved down kids’ throats…and far too many people filling their pockets based on another person’s creativity that was proven successful 20 years ago.  When did everyone give up?  When did movie makers decide that everything worth doing has already been done, and the only thing left to do is redo it all?  And when did the general population agree that they don’t have a problem paying $10 a piece to see MORE Muppets?

Photography(/Bartending?...): Vodka Gummy Bears

Last week a friend and I stumbled across a recipe for vodka-infused (fancy wording) gummy bears, so I took advantage of another opportunity to see how bad I could fail with my new camera.

Our Monday late-night trip to Hyvee yielded a bottle of borderline cheap vodka, a 3 pound bag of gummy bears (completely unnecessary) and a can of frozen fruit punch concentrate.

If you're interested in actually trying this, feel free to Google the recipe, as I suspect my account of the experience will probably be lacking in terms of instructionality.

When we returned from the store, I dug out a Pyrex bowl (best bowls ever), dumped in some gummy bears, and dumped in some vodka ("some" being a very technical measurement, clearly).

I popped the lid on and stuck them in my fridge for 3 days, pulling them out to stir occasionally and being knocked to the floor by the fumes released when opening the container.  By Thursday, the bears had absorbed the majority of the booze, growing slightly in size.  I used the juice concentrate to mix up some fairly concentrated juice and stirred a cup (real measuring!) into the bears.  Again, they were sealed up and hung out in the fridge for 4 days.

By Sunday night it was time to try it out.  Personally, I wasn't thrilled since I'm not really a mixed drink/hard alcohol/fruity booze person, but I had to sample my creation.

Truth: they were awful.

Imagine the texture of a gummy bear crossed with Jello, and that's what they were like.  Plopping one in your mouth brought out that I'm-not-sure-when-to-stop-chewing-and-swallow sensation.  So that, plus the sugary-booze flavor that I generally dislike, just didn't work for me.  My friend tried her best to power through in the hopes of getting a buzz, but we didn't dump much vodka in to begin with so that failed too.  After getting two down and gagging on the third, I opened a beer and called it quits.

The most entertaining part of the process was watching them grow.

Almost doubled in size!

Oh, and the juice turned them red... except the green bears, which ended up purple.

If you're into Jello and fruity drinks, this is a fun project.  Or, if you're into those things and also into being lazy, feel free to come get these out of my fridge.

Another failed food creation.