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So, yes. Flashing back AGAIN to '94, and the mid fall.

The relationship with She Who Must Not be Named, after cooling off during another summer naval expedition of hers (co-incidence, surely), began to heat up again.

Well, at the very least, we'd get together on Fridays for dinner, whoopee, and the X-Files. I think the X-Files ended less disappointingly, but that's a matter for next Jan 1.

Now. Yes. Ten years ago, I was slaving away at Algonquin College trying to become a journalist. Among my compatriots were included the LJer formerly known as [livejournal.com profile] mindrobber, Wes Smiderle, Gabe Landriault, Mike Cottingham,and a variety of other individuals.

The teaching staff were a mix. The layout teacher was a treasure, although since we were in the ten month gap between paper layout and computerizing the whole thing, what we learned in our first semester of layout and what we put into practice in our second semester were two almost completely differen things. It was like getting trained in buggy maintenance, and then having to be a mechanic.

Our English teacher, Doug Clark, was also a great guy. He taught us much. Such as, for example, how to change the books a class was going to use after they'd bought them. Thanks, Doug.

Overall, though, great guy.

Photography was with Marily Mikkelson, and she did teach us how to take pictures. Of course, now that digital photography has taken over the world, it's another skill that's less useful. But it's not as useless as Calligraphy by any means.

Our lead instructor was Steve Forester. Let it simply be said that we did not get along.

It was a great experience; the class was a good bunch of people, and I did learn a lot. You'd be surprised at how simple it seems to learn the fundamentals of journalism, but how difficult to be able to put them into practice.

I was also gaming, surprisingly enough. After the success of the previous year's Werewolf game, I attempted to put together another one, but without Michael's force of will to keep a game together, it collapsed.

You think I jest. I do not. The most vital component of any GM is not creativity, a quick wit, or even a comfy living room, although without those three, a game is surely doomed.

No, the most vital trait of a good game master is an iron will to shape their fellow gamers, to bring them together in the one place, at the one time. Having a player who possessed these qualities AND really wants to play is also very, very useful.

Mostly, I did Larp. Ottawa By Night was discovered through a local BBS called Pandora's Box. It was fun. My character ended up Prince of Ottawa, which was neat. The game was as well run a Larp as I've ever participated in, really, but I think it was a matter of the players having fun, and the GMs being able to go with it. There was bitchiness galore, but it was still controlled.

OBN tended to cycle through Princes at a fairly brisk pace; we joked that it would be appropriate to have a Praxis Seizure: Ottawa card whose purpose was to burn the target. Well, we were young and geeky, we found it funny.

I miss Ottawa, on occasion. It was the dawn of the Magic age, and I was having fun. Maybe I should have just written Adkison and begged for a job.

Ah, well. Ten years ago always seems like such a long time, doesn't it?

Date: 2004-11-27 11:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pyat.livejournal.com
Ah, well. Ten years ago always seems like such a long time, doesn't it?

Yup. :) I was reading a Dragon magazine from 1991 earlier. Whoah.

Date: 2004-12-18 08:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] autodidactic.livejournal.com
It's weird that the early nineties were ten years ago, and yet it felt futuristic at the time. :)

A.

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