|My mother with one of her obsessions.|
Mine are mostly restricted to books and hockey. If I'm alone on a desert island and not allowed to bring a boat to get off of there, I'd probably bring the Habs, the Jets (who are suddenly the only team the Habs can beat), and a hockey rink along with the contents of the entire Halifax Public Library network.
Not Mom. Mom would bring a laptop with an endless power supply so she could play Slotomania on Facebook.
I have a Facebook account which I use largely to keep in touch with people I have met online via various Facebook games, which I have subsequently lost interest in for the most part. I also keep in contact with family there and some of my Habs tweeps network.
The game playing is all Mom's though. Bro plays their games also, and sent me a link to a slot game he thought I'd play. I didn't, but Mom saw it and developed an instantaneous full blown addiction.
The game doles out points (fake coins to play with) every 4 hours. As you gain levels you get more points, and the game only gives you new points every 4 hours from the moment you collect, so it's important to collect regularly.
Plus it pays out worse than my brother, who is a notorious skin flint. Mom liked to horde points for a day, then blow them all at once, then bitch she was out.
Back when we were still on different shifts she'd warn me before leaving for work.
"Don't forget to collect my points!" Then she would call during her breaks. "Did you collect my points?"
"Yes, I got your stupid points. Why don't you just get your own account?" I asked her.
"I'm up to 3 million points," she told me, aghast. "I'd have to start all over! Plus I'm trying to catch Justin Justified and I'm gaining on him!"
She'd leave the computer on, get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and click to collect her points before going back to bed. She still does it. It's that bad.
It got worse when Dad game to town for a visit before his usual winter jaunt south to Panama City. With Mom and I on the same shift, she took to calling him from work.
"Did you collect my points?"
"Yes, I collected your stupid points," he would reply, and return to playing solitaire or whatever it was he was hooked on.
One night she came home from work, got herself a nightcap and hopped onto Facebook to discover she had no points left.
"I played them," Dad confessed.
He had started playing since he was doing all the work, become an instant addict too, and had lost all the points he had been collecting for Mom all day.
My mother came out to where I was reading in the living room. "He lost all my points!" she complained to me, thrusting an accusatory finger at where my father was sleeping down the hall.
"That's too bad."
I was engrossed in the newest Stephanie Plum novel and hardly sympathetic, barely paying attention.
"He's YOUR father. Do something!"
What I did was form a compromise. When she's at work he'd play, and when she's home he wouldn't. Simple right?
We came home from work after midnight and he was still up, playing her game. My father has, for years now, gone to bed around 9 pm and he gets up at 5 am or thereabouts.
"He's still playing and what's he doing up at this hour?" She waited and waited and waited and finally threw him off the computer.
"Aren't you going to bed? It's past your bedtime!"
"Yes, yes, yes. I'm going. I'm going," he said, and reluctantly left her to it.
The next day I was reading again and this time she waited until I stopped, heaved a sighed, and looked up at her hovering over me.
"He's standing over my shoulder and watching me play. When I got up to use the bathroom he took my seat!"
This was apparently a major criminal act so we tried another solution. Dad tried playing on Bro's account, but Bro plays his own game and there was inevitable conflict there also.
"Why don't you reactivate your old Facebook account?" I asked Dad. "That way you can both play at the same time."
So he did, and now while she's in one room playing on my account, he's in another playing on his.
"I can't get any points!" complained Dad.
I went online, got him 'game friends' who send him free gifts, and Mom is constantly sharing so he can collect too. He runs out a lot though but restricts himself to going on MY account and playing HER points while we are both at work.
"I can't get any gifts," he said bitterly yesterday. "All the damned vultures all the time..."
"Vultures?" I asked.
"Yes! When someone shares by the time I go to collect the points are all gone! I even play your mother's and share when she gets a hit but by the time I get back out to the dining room (where his computer is) they're gone too!"
Mom pointed out that his computer was a laptop unlike her desktop model, and maybe he should just take it into the room with him so he can collect the second he shares off her computer instead of running through to the dining room to beat the 'vultures'.
Apparently this is working.
Meanwhile Bro's hockey card obsession continues to grow rapidly, which means my lax database keeping has us woefully behind in what we have to wheel and deal. We have some beauty cards, but no one knows it because I've dropped the ball.
"Are you going to do the hockey cards this weekend," Mom shot at me the second I crawled out of bed this morning. "You know he's going to buy more this week and you'll fall even further behind."
"Where's my coffee?" I demanded, ignoring her totally.
This is usually my first question of the day, and with Dad visiting I'm usually treated to a nice, fresh, hot and free cup of coffee waiting for me on the counter when I get up. This morning there wasn't one there, and I was reduced to making a pot.
Oh the humanity...
In order to augment Da Nephew's hockey card collection, I wrote to the Habs and sent them cards and asked for autographs. Yesterday I got some back.
Tomas Plekanec signed and returned all 3 cards. One is for my nephew's collection, and will be displayed in a place of high honour as it rightfully deserves within The Shrine, as will the Gomez card.
As I promised Pleky, the other two are spoken for also. One is for Laura, and the other is a gift for a 14 year old son of a coworker. He's a good kid who loves the Habs and is hoping to finally see a game this year. I can totally relate.
What I found hilarious is that of the 3 cards I sent Scott Gomez, I only got one back and it wasn't a Habs card. I only had 3 of Gomez to begin with, and one is a New Jersey Devils card. That is the one he signed and sent back.
"He kept the two Habs cards?" Mom asked.
"Maybe he just likes them," I said, laughing. "I didn't really care for that one with the ugly striped jersey anyway."
Really how great was that of them to take the time to do that for my nephew? I've also got a signed Knuckles Nilan card for the collection too.
So now I have a third obsession, because the first two just weren't enough I guess.
And Mom's coming home soon, so I have to get off her computer which is where I'm writing this because it's linked to the scanner where I just scanned these cards to make you all jealous.
Anyway I have a new book to read. The waiting list for a hard copy of George R.R. Martin's Game of Throne series is typically several months, but an e-reader copy usually only takes a few days before it comes in. Gotta love it!
So what have you been obsessed with lately?