SinSynn's Cure For The Late Night Blues

Hey folks, SinSynn here.

Life can be a lil' crazy, amirite?

Sometimes, sitting down for a bit o' hobby time may be the only thing that saves the lives of my friends and family.
...Like when your stepson edits your XBox Live 'bio' to sound like an advertisement for a male escort service.
  
-_-

Other times, when I'm flitting about, overly caffeinated and...maybe being annoying, the humans in my life may very well yell at me to, 'go paint a tank, or whatever the heck you do.'

So, in many ways, my hobby habit benefits them as much as me- I stay out of the looney bin, and they get to watch TV shows without me making comments and asking dumb questions.

...Nobody but me wants to know what kinda noises Fran Drescher would make while enduring a tentacle probing anyway.

*I bet she makes that face, though*

Hobby time does have a very soothing, calming effect on me.

I get all zoned out...just lost in my mind.

Despite the fact that some godawful music might be blaring in my face, or some ultra violent movie may be flashing on my monitor, I rarely pay attention.

They're just background noise, anyway.

Sometimes, when the music or movie ends, I continue on in silence for vast swathes of time...

I'm gone, man.

Just...gone.

It's at times like these that I let the Hamster off of his wheel, and let my (very tiny, N scale) train of thought just...careen downwards, into oblivion.

Sometimes, all of my facilities are focused on getting that lil' model I'm working on just right.

...and then sometimes I'm wondering why someone thought the word 'meatloaf' was a good idea.

Seriously, those two words just do not belong joined together, in any way.

*Dude, you were awesome in 'Fight Club'*

Many times, when it's late at night and the house is silent, I fall into a pit of deep introspection.

I imagine that for the Normals, introspection is a pleasant mode of thought.

Not so much for me, though.

If you read my introductory post, then you know that the path I took in getting here was not the most brilliant course I could have chosen.

Nevertheless, I did what I did, and I can't go back and change it, so...whatevs, right?

I can't change me then, I can only try to be a better me now.

...working on that.

If someone had said to me, while I was living on the E Train here in New York City, 'Dude, in a few years you'll be all crazy about building toy soldiers. You'll be writing about it on the Internet, in fact,' I probably would have just asked if there was a roof and a bed involved.
...and I would have wept for joy.

Life sure is a trip.

In many ways, a new life began for me when I decided to 'get my act together,' and I derive great pleasure from doing activities most of the Normals would find downright mundane.

Grocery shopping, hitting the mall, seeing a movie in the theater and the like just make me feel so...Normal.

I kinda dig it.

*I still want their heads on pikes for this*

During these quiet, somewhat morose moments of introspection, I am consistently saved by the lil' model I am holding in my hand.

That model is my connection to something greater.

It's my connection to you.

That lil' model is a reminder that, despite the different paths we all took getting here, we're all here together, and you don't care who I was, way back whenever.

You just wanna chill, and talk hobby with me.

...that's what's up.

In many ways, I have this great curiosity about you.

I wanna hang out, and have a game with you.

I wanna check out your models, and hear your gaming stories.

Honestly, I don't give a crap whether I win or lose, as long as we have a good time.

That's the biggest reason I attend every tournament I can- to meet you, and hang out.

It's why I'll grab my army bag at the drop of the hat, and hop in the car with the Ultimate Rival for a hour long trip to the gamestore, and hope for a pickup game.

I'm somewhat like an overly friendly dog when it comes to social situations, mainly to overcome my own shyness, but also to put others at ease with the crazy Bronx guy that just walked into the room.

To compensate for both of these things, I'm the knucklehead that'll walk right up to your table, and be all like:

'Hey I'm SinSynn watcha playin' oh yer playin' 40k I love 40k oh those are some really cool models how long did they take you to paint I bet they took a long time they're really nice though wow.

...and your name is?'

*And then I give 'the paw' like POW....friends for life*

My favorite 'tournament memory' doesn't come from some outstanding victory, it comes from a game that was barely played at all.

It was (not so much) played against a gentleman by the name of Andrew, who recognized my Flames of War 'Alien Headquarters' figures immediately when we were doing that 'what's what tournament thing' you hafta do before getting started.

'Rebel Minis,' he says, 'from their 15mm Sci-Fi line. They're from Tennessee, the owner is a real nice guy. I like what you did- that's pretty cool.'

He had me at 'Rebel Minis,' honestly- their stuff is cool and their service excellent. 15mm Xenos for me to use in FoW, tee-hee. 

Just sayin'- they get a plug cuz they're da awesome.

When the TO came to tell us we had 45 minutes left to play, we looked down at the table and realized we had spent two hours playing three turns, basically cuz we were talking hobby, history, life and love the entire time.

Maybe we were prattling on like old ladies, I dunno....either way, the tabletop battle went largely forgotten.

We hurriedly stumbled through the rest of the game, making frequent referrals to the rulebook, or bothering players at nearby tables for clarifications, since we were both pretty new at the time.

We were unsure who won at the end, since he contested one of my objectives, but he called over the TO, who said I won 5-3, since I was the defender.

I offered him the draw, since I didn't feel like I 'won,' but he wouldn't hear of it.

I don't remember much of the actual game, other than him running up two Crocodiles over some train tracks and bathing two of my three Tigers in flames, immolating them.

Most fun game ever, though. Fer realz.

I really hope to play that guy again. I really do.

*Shout out to Andrew, a cool cat*

The most epic game I've played recently was a four hour bloodfest I eventually lost to (who else?) the Ultimate Rival, last week.

Stupid Sherman tanks and their multitude of machine guns...

I mean seriously, a platoon of five Shermans rolls like a gazillion dice. My poor lil' troopies were gettin' all perforated and whatnot.

Screw that guy. I hate that friggin' guy.

We played that game in the infamous Gaming Garage, which after three straight losses, I'm now calling 'the Terrordome,' and he calls the 'Alien Autopsy Center.'

I told you I hate that guy, right?

Nyah.

Whatevs...yer cool, though.

Did you ever wonder what you would be doing if you didn't have your lil' models, or your cards, or RPG's, or whatever?
I mean, obviously we'd all have a few more bucks in the bank, but...
What would we like, do to keep us sane?
...okay, maybe 'sane' is the wrong word, cuz clearly none of use embodies 'sanity' in the truest sense, precisely...but you know what I mean, right?

Besides the fact that my stepson would be in a full body cast, and no one would get to watch TV in peace, I honestly shudder to think.

Is there some perception that there's something 'weird' about being into this stuff, like I'm supposed to feel like a 'nerd' or something because I'm into miniature gaming?

Besides that fact that I've never been the kind of person to genuinely care 'what people think,' I can truly say that doing my hobby thing makes me feel...Normal.
I kinda dig it.

Those times, late at night when the family is asleep, and I sit in quiet repose, model in one hand and brush in the other...
Sometimes I get lost in my thoughts, man.
My thoughts...aren't the happiest of places, late at night, some nights.

But then I snap back to the now, and the model in my hand, and I think about you.
...and I smile, and am content.


Until next time, folks- Exit with catchphrase!

-SinSynn