sorry

I actually HAVE been back to the Philippines several times, though not since over a decade ago. My [[cousins]] call it "back home", but I don't feel like I belong here any better than I do in Canada or anywhere else in the world.\n\nI'm planning to go back for my 30th birthday in 2015. I wonder how different things will be now, compared to when I was younger. What will I see that I hadn't seen before?\n\n[[Sounds exciting.|crowd]]

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It occurred to me once I was older that she probably had trouble fitting in and making friends, too, especially if her family moved around a lot. It could be that being respected at a new school means [[picking on someone who's more of a social pariah than you are]], and I was a convenient target.\n\nMaybe she wound up queer as a three dollar coin like me, too. Maybe she's now a he or a they or a ze. That's never easy, and I know it. Of course, lots of girls who are tomboys as kids "grow out of it", as they say, so who knows?\n\n[[That's very... compassionate of you.|a kid in my class]]

.passage\n{\n\tfont-size: 5em;\n}

I hurry on back to where it's somewhat cooler and less crowded.\n\n<<fruitstand>>

"Muahahahaha!" cackles <<print $nemesis>>. "You made it past my <<print $monsters>>, but you'll never defeat ME! That <<print $artifact>> is mine!"<<if $nemesis is "Fati Khanum">> (She says this in a really really thick Persian accent, like, "yoo veel nevair deefeat mee", and calls you "bitarbiat" for increased emphasis.)<<endif>>\n\n"Yeah? Well? <<cyclinglink $insult "You're a poopy head!" "I am rubber and you are glue!" "I fart in your general direction!" "How appropriate, you fight like a cow!" "Your mom!">>" I yell back at my nemesis. It's quite a cutting retort, if I do say so myself. It's also super effective, because <<print $nemesis>> responds by attacking me with a <<cyclinglink $weapon "ball of fire" "bolt of lightning" "swarm of mosquitoes" "blast of ketchup" "very loud sound of a toilet flushing" "strongly-worded lecture">>!\n\n[[Deflect it with your magic mirror shield!|deflect]]\n[[Duck!|duck]]\n[[Run away!|run away]]

I feel, sometimes, like when I say the word "family", I mean something completely different from what white people mean when they say "family". Like, they'll refer to their closest friends as family, and while that's a really nice sentiment, it's complicated to me for reasons.\n\nFor one thing, family has strong associations, in my mind, with ideas of obligation, duty, and responsibility. I never want my friends to feel those things towards me. Friendship ought to be voluntary, and that by its nature implies a certain sense of ephemerality.\n\nMaybe I'm just bad at friendship. I don't know.\n\n[[I don't know either.|no one left here]]

There are 27 of us cousins on my mom's side. I don't think we've ever all been in the same place at once, but whenever there's any kind of family get-together, there still manages to be so many of us that you can never have a moment alone.\n\nMe, my brother, and my sister are the only ones who aren't fully Filipino, and are half something else. It's not supposed to matter, but somehow, to me, it's yet another way to be marked as different.\n\n[[Always have to be the odd one out, huh?|somewhere in Manila]]

And then, I notice there's [[no one left here]] on the beach anymore. There's only a [[bicycle]], unlocked and abandoned.\n\nAt that moment, I realise it's time to go.\n\n[[Then go.|south of beach]]

I'm Really Sorry About That Thing I Said When I Was Tired and/or Hungry

Some delicious, ripe <<cyclinglink $fruit "peaches" "nectarines" "mangoes" "pomagranates" "strawberries" "blueberries" "blackberries">> catch my eye. I fill a small bag of them and walk up to the counter to pay.\n\nThe owner blinks, momentarily confused about my gender presentation, but then comes to his senses and names a price.\n\n[[Pay the price in question.|pay]]\n[[Haggle.|haggle]]

In grade <<if $gradeobnoxious is false>><<cyclinglink $gradeobnoxious "five" "six" "four">><<else>><<print $gradeobnoxious>><<endif>>, these two girls<<if $uncle neq false>>, <<if $makeover1 is false>><<cyclinglink $makeover1 "Brittany" "Suzanne" "Sarah" "Giselle" "Crystal">> and <<cyclinglink $makeover2 "Selena" "Tiffany" "Courtney" "Angelina" "Erica">><<else>><<print $makeover1>> and <<print $makeover2>><<endif>>,<<endif>> take it upon themselves to give me a popularity makeover. They try to teach me how to talk like a normal person, starting with the word "colourful".\n\nI repeat "colourful" back to them in the best Valley Girl impression I can muster.\n\n"Uh-oh, I think we've [[created a monster]]."\n\n[[Lawl.|deserved]]

Uh, you're being sarcastic, right? I can't tell through text alone.\n\n[[Duh. Of course it was sarcasm.|nice]]\n[[No, I'm dead serious. You're awful, and I'm actually hate-playing this game. Not that it's even a real game. But seriously. Go die in a fire.|hate-playing]]

I walk back along the footpath. It feels like it takes a shorter time to head back than it did getting here.\n\n<<house>>

Oh, right. Okay. Uh... hmm, where was I? Oh yeah.\n\n<<house>>

I didn't go west out of my own accord, though if we had, in fact, stayed in Saskatoon or Edmonton, I would have likely made my way there anyhow. More opportunities, you know?\n\nTruth is, though, my parents had been wanting to move to the west coast since forever. Particularly my mom, who never did get used to the cold. But when they finally did get job opportunities in Vancouver, I wasn't ready. I'd just started at a new school, see, and unlike before, I'd actually made [[friends]]. So they were going to have to drag me out of there kicking and screaming.\n\n[[But you did make it there. Kicking and screaming and all.|west of house 2]]

I'm a graduate student in Santa Cruz, California, and everything's fantastic. I'm spending my days working on projects I love. My social life is busier and more active than I can remember it ever being. I have a great therapist. I'm even finding cute people to flirt with.\n\n[[That's great! I'm so happy for you.|yeah but]]

In grade <<if $gradeclumsy is false>><<cyclinglink $gradeclumsy "seven" "eight" "six">><<else>><<print $gradeclumsy>><<endif>>, we're playing volleyball, and it's my turn to serve. I do so, and the ball smacks my P.E. teacher in the head. I didn't even do it on purpose.\n\n[[Hah.|deserved]]

Okay, so. I'm <<cyclinglink "walking through" "exploring" "wandering around" "lost in" "trying to find my way out of">> this <<cyclinglink $location "dark, spooky forest" "vast, empty desert" "mosquito-filled swamp" "haunted house" "ice palace">> and I'm on a quest for this <<cyclinglink $artifact "amulet" "cloak" "ring" "sword" "magic spell" "loaf of pita bread">> that <<cyclinglink $power "grants wishes" "turns you invisible" "makes you immortal" "gives you the power of flight" "turns you into the most popular kid at school">>. So far, it's going <<cyclinglink "really well" "okay" "kinda badly" "better than I thought">>. I've had to fight a lot of <<cyclinglink $monsters "ghosts" "zombies" "vampire bunnies" "giant spiders" "mosquitoes" "kindergarteners">> and <<cyclinglink "they were way bigger than the ones I usually fight" "whenever I killed one, like, three more would take its place" "they did this really well-choreographed battle dance and I could barely keep up with them">>, but I'm almost there. I can <<cyclinglink "taste" "smell" "touch" "see" "hear">> it.\n\nSuddenly, my arch-nemesis, <<if $fati is false>><<cyclinglink $nemesis "Queen Beryl" "Rita Repulsa" "Ursula" "The Ghost Pirate LeChuck" "Dopefish" "Sharptooth" "Michael Jackson">><<else>><<cyclinglink $nemesis "Queen Beryl" "Rita Repulsa" "Ursula" "The Ghost Pirate LeChuck" "Dopefish" "Sharptooth" "Michael Jackson" "Fati Khanum">><<endif>>, appears.\n\n[[Ooh, the plot thickens!|battle]]

I could, but then they'll know I'm one of those rich tourists and suddenly, all the little kids in the general vicinity will come asking for food, too. And then they'll pickpocket me while I'm distracted. That's what I've heard, anyway.\n\nLook, if there were an easy solution to poverty around here, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. And I don't want to be one of those know-it-all colonialists. Even though, you know, I'm half Filipino myself.\n\n[[Okay, okay, geez.|crowd]]

I've actually never been to Iran. There's never been a time in my life when it's been safe to go, particularly for someone like me. I know damn well that if I'm not extra careful, I could be imprisoned or killed. And I don't want to risk it.\n\nI'd like to go, though, one day, when I can. I don't know what it will be like when I do. It's always felt like this missing part of my personal history that I've only been able to experience secondhand.\n\n[[Word.|fruitstand]]

I used to be a big Women In Games person, at least in the abstract. Wrote lots of blog posts and spoke on lots of panels about it and everything. In truth, I felt this persistent nagging discomfort in that scene, but never knew why. Later on, it was because I would come to realise that "woman" was a word too limiting for the bizarre complexity of my gender identity.\n\nI don't know, though. It's not like I'm suddenly a Man In Games; in fact, now I feel like even more of a minority. And I still stand for a lot of what Women In Games represents. I WANT more gender diversity in this medium. If anything, most Women In Games people are way more conservative than I am, not less.\n\n[[I hear you.|secretly gossip]]\n[[Okay, but why not extend the definition of "woman" to include yourself?|extend]]

Who are these family friends, you ask? Do they have names? It doesn't really matter. They could be anyone. Well, almost anyone. The point is, their names aren't important.\n\n[[But I want to know their names! Details like names make the story more textured and stuff.|who are these people]]\n[[Okay, fine. Go on.|intro]]

Farsi is one of those languages I understand anywhere from reasonably well to "I don't know what you're saying but I know what language you're speaking from the cadence of your voice", depending on what people are actually saying. I actually went to classes to read and write in Farsi when I was a kid, from this old lady<<if $uncle neq false>> named [[Fati Khanum]]<<endif>>. She could never pronounce my name, so she just called me "Dier" all the time. It was an embarrassing nickname that stuck among all the other kids in that class<<if $kidage is "about my age">>, including <<print $kidname>><<endif>>, and they still call me that to this day.\n\nNo, you're not allowed to call me that, so don't even ask.\n\n[[Anyway, you were saying?|intro]]

Aww, well, that's... nice of you, I think? But the truth is, I'm probably giving myself too much credit. It's more likely that the majority of people completely forget that I even exist until I'm right there in front of them. That's true of pretty much everyone, right?\n\n[[I suppose.|deserved]]

They're not my favourite kinds of cookies -- Persian sweets are a little too sickeningly sugary to my taste, even as a kid, and I prefer my desserts to have more complexity of flavour. But hey, they're cookies.\n\n[[Gotcha.|intro]]

From the [[Wikipedia article on "t'aarof"|https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taarof]]:\n\n"...a host is obliged to offer anything a guest might want, and a guest is equally obliged to refuse it. This ritual may repeat itself several times before the host and guest finally determine whether the host's offer and the guest's refusal are real or simply polite. It is possible to ask someone not to t'aarof ('t'aarof nakonid'), but that raises new difficulties, since the request itself might be a devious type of t'aarof."\n\n[[Yeah, I can see how that can get awkward.|wrong]]

It's <<if $bikecolour is false>><<cyclinglink $bikecolour "black" "blue" "green" "red" "purple" "pink" "magenta" "burnt sienna" "oatmeal heather">><<else>><<print $bikecolour>><<endif>>, and it's a hybrid, with upright handlebars and a comfy seat. It's also small enough for my short legs.\n\n[[It's a sign.|time to go]]

When I was five, I used to pronounce "comfortable" as "com-FOR-ta-BOL", because that's how my mom said it. I know this because I vividly remember that one day, my dad took me aside and taught me to say "COM-fortable" instead.\n\nTo this day, I still have trouble working out how to pronounce unfamiliar words. I only recently learned that "diaspora" is "di-AS-pora" and not "DI-a-SPOR-a", for instance.\n\n[[English is weird.|"my dad's from Iran and my mom's from the Philippines"]]

Holy crap, it's crowded in here. And smoggy -- I can barely breathe. Somehow, I've wound up [[somewhere in Manila]].\n\nThere's a really, really [[cute kid]] nearby, begging for change. And vendors everywhere, selling various kinds of [[street meats]] and all manner of knockoff products, from [[Louis Vuitton bags]] to [[pirated DVDs]].\n\n[[Go back.|west of crowd]]

I'm standing outside of a [[familiar-looking house]]. There's some kind of [[leaflet]] in the mailbox.\n\n[[Go north.|north of house]]\n[[Go east.|east of house]]\n[[Go west.|west of house]]

All the responsible adults around me told me to "use my words" instead of hitting back or crying or throwing a temper tantrum. So, I did. In the years to come, I would collect every clever comeback I came across, slowly but surely learning when and how to best use each one. I gained quite a reputation as an acerbic wit, particularly in online communities, where text allowed me to carefully consider my words, relieving me from the pressure to have to call them up on the spot.\n\n[[Sure.|bully]]

I walk through the city, watching it turn more and more congested. It feels warmer and more humid the further I go, and I gradually shed off my layers.\n\n<<crowd>>

I find myself at a fruit stand that looks like it was lifted [[straight out of Tehran]]. They've got everything here -- apples, oranges, grapes, peaches, pomagranates... and everything's perfectly fresh and in season, mysteriously enough.\n\n<<if $fruit is false>>The owner of this fruit stand waves and calls me [["mohandes"]]. He's probably mistaking me for my father.\n\n[[Buy some fruit to eat.|buy fruit]]\n<<endif>>[[Go further east.|east of fruitstand]]\n[[Go back.|west of fruitstand]]

I head back the way I came.\n\n<<house>>

I'm not hungry for the cookies, so I say no. <<if $auntie is false>>I get offered the plate of cookies again.<<else>>Auntie <<print $auntie>> offers me the plate of cookies again.<<endif>> How annoying. I say no, a bit more irritated this time. "[[She|she]] doesn't want any," my mom interjects, and <<if $auntie is false>>the cookie plate goes<<else>>Auntie <<print $auntie>> brings the cookie plate<<endif>> to the next person.\n\n<<wrong>>

Her name was <<if $uncle is false>>not important<<else if $bullyfirst is false>><<cyclinglink $bullyfirst "Alex" "Laura" "Meaghan" "Jackie" "Colleen" "Tegan" "Morgan">> <<cyclinglink $bullylast "Mackenzie" "Hill" "Carroll" "Horne" "Kaczynski" "Desjardins">><<else>><<print $bullyfirst>> <<print $bullylast>><<endif>>. She was a [[tomboy]], and she'd just moved here. At first, she was nice to me, but then, she quickly got mean, and became my tormenter for the whole rest of the school year. Then, she [[moved away once again]], which I'd hoped would be a respite... but other bullies would take her place. They always did.\n\n[[God, being a kid is rough sometimes.|bully]]

I know I have no chance against that <<print $weapon>>, so I run away as fast as my stumpy little legs will carry me, back the way I came through the <<print $location>>, until finally, I make it out of there alive.\n\nWho needs the <<print $artifact>> that <<print $power>>, anyway? I was doing perfectly fine without one.\n\n[[Nice... work?|bully]]

My voice is still pretty obnoxious. But at least, now I know how to use it. It's still hard for me to control my volume, though, especially when I'm really concentrating hard on what I'm saying.\n\nAt my [[#1ReasonToBe talk|http://www.deirdrakiai.com/2014/03/22/making-games-is-easy-belonging-is-hard-1reasontobe/]] at GDC 2014, the biggest [[complaints]] were that my voice was too loud. And I can't even tell you how many people hated the singing in [[Dominique Pamplemousse|http://www.dominiquepamplemousse.com/]]. But I don't care anymore. Let them hate. I won't shut up.\n\n[[Yeah, you tell 'em!|obnoxious, pedantic voice]]

I did, yes. And now here we are.\n\n<<beach>>

In my early twenties, I become friends with this moderately successful [[Woman In Games]] who's quite a bit older than me. She's kind of a mentor of sorts. Whenever we get together, she's always dishing some kind of dirt on people in the game industry. In many ways, I feel like she's got my back. Lots of game industry people are awful, and knowing whom to avoid is a good idea.\n\nOf course, years later, I say <<if $uncle is false>>something<<else>>[[something]]<<endif>> that gets on her wrong side, and I realise just how much we've grown apart. And then I start to wonder if she gossips about me to other games people, now. And if she had in fact been doing so from the start.\n\n[[These grade school politics never end, do they?|bothering people]]

I get on the bike and ride it along the beach, as hard and fast as I possibly can. My surroundings blur; everything seems to get warmer, brighter, harsher.\n\n[[I collapse, and suddenly...|now]]

It's not the pronoun I favour now, but back then, I had no idea there were other choices, or that I was even allowed to choose in the first place.\n\n[[Fair enough.|refuse cookie]]

The truth is, this is exactly the same altercation I had two days ago with <<if $bullyfirst is false>>[[a kid in my class]]<<else>><<print $bullyfirst>> <<print $bullylast>><<endif>>. Except there were no magical artifacts or monsters or special powers, and I didn't win. I didn't even successfully run away.\n\nShe just pushed me in a bank of snow, and all I did was just lie there, crying, trying to fight back with a [[cutting insult]]. And it wasn't cutting at all, because she and her friends just kept mocking me, repeating "<<print $insult>>" in annoying high-pitched voices and laughing.\n\n[[I'm sorry that happened to you.|deserved]]

I thought about that; believe me, I did. But then I had to ask myself, why not extend the definition of "man" to include me, too? At what point do those words become meaningless?\n\n[[You're absolutely right, now that I think about it.|secretly gossip]]\n[[I'm not sure I get it, but okay, I guess.|secretly gossip]]

When it comes to English, I'm a complete stickler for correct spelling and grammar. As a teenager, I'm one of the only people I know who instant-messages with capitalisation and punctuation, a tendency that still persists to this day.\n\nKnowing English better than my parents is one of those things I learn to use as a weapon against them when I feel small and powerless.\n\nSome have postulated that this grammar pedantry is an internalised racism of sorts, a [[performance of hyper-whiteness|http://geekfeminism.org/2014/07/07/can-geekiness-be-decoupled-from-whiteness/]]. They're probably right.\n\n[[Go figure.|diverse colours and creeds]]

<<set $fati to true>>That's obviously not her real name. It's a name my dad made up to scare me and my brother when we weren't behaving on road trips. He'd be like "stop fighting or I'll leave you at Fati Khanum's house", and she was this mean old lady who'd just make you do chores all day and forbid you from having any fun.\n\n[[Huh.|Farsi]]

<<if $nobodydeserves>>Okay, let me rephrase that.\n\nNobody deserves to be bullied. But I can see why they would.<<else>>I deserved it, though.<<endif>> I was a pretty annoying kid. I've seen old videos of myself, and they make me cringe like whoa. I speak in this [[obnoxious, pedantic voice]]. I'm [[clumsy]]. I'm unaware of when I'm [[bothering people]].\n\nThat I [[look physically different]] from the other kids doesn't help my case, either.\n\n<<if $nobodydeserves is false>>[[Hey now. Nobody deserves to be bullied. NOBODY.|deserved][$nobodydeserves = true]]\n<<endif>>[[So, uh, how does the rest of the story go?|rest]]

When I start high school in Vancouver, my biggest culture shock is meeting other Persians. Like, actually from Iran, and speaking fluent Farsi, not like the kids of my dad's friends I knew back in the prairies who were born and raised in Canada like me.\n\nWhen they ask me to say a few words of Farsi to them, they think it's the most hilarious thing ever. Naturally, I'm completely humiliated. This tendency of mine prevents me from speaking any language I know other than [[English]] to native speakers... which, in turn, prevents me from practicing said languages to reach anything near fluency.\n\n[[So it goes.|beach]]

Oh, but wait, looks like <<if $auntie is false>>we're being called<<else>>Auntie <<print $auntie>> is calling us<<endif>> into the kitchen for dinner. Guess that means I'd better get going.\n\nI'll feel better about everything after I've eaten. That's what always happens, right?\n\n[[Yeah. Go eat. You need it.|end]]

Dietrich Squinkifer

"Mohandes" means engineer, the most prestigious occupation in 1970s Iran, to the point that in Persian communities, practically everyone's dad is an engineer. (That, or a dentist.) I almost did an engineering degree for undergrad, but ultimately chose computer science instead.\n\nOf course, now I'm an artist. So much for prestige.\n\n[[Heh.|fruitstand]]

When you talk to most gender non-conforming female-assigned-at-birth people, they'll usually talk about frequently being mistaken for a boy until puberty, and possibly even later. I was never mistaken for a boy -- I never had any idea I could ask to have short hair or dress in "boy" clothes, so I looked girl-like by default. But I remember, for instance, wishing I was good at sports, like basketball or soccer or skateboarding or BMX biking, and I would daydream about being good at those things, but when I tried to do them for real, I'd be so bad at them. Like, I couldn't make my body do what my brain wanted it to do.\n\n[[Mm-hmm.|a kid in my class]]

It's funny. You never realise how unusual your family is until you meet white people's families and realise, holy crap, it's exactly like those families on TV, where everyone speaks English all the time instead of a mashup of Farsi, Tagalog, Ilokano, and [[heavily accented]] English (sometimes even switching mid-sentence), and eats food like the kind you've only had in restaurants.\n\nI dunno. It's hard to explain unless you've actually experienced it yourself.\n\n[[I'll take your word for it.|look physically different]]

In grade <<if $gradebothering is false>><<cyclinglink $gradebothering "six" "four" "five">><<else>><<print $gradebothering>><<endif>>, I'm on the bus, and there are these kids in my class who start doing dramatic, mocking impersonations of me and laughing. They don't realise I'm sitting only a few seats behind them. I don't make my presence known, instead sinking myself down lower, making myself more invisible.\n\nUp until then, I had no idea they hated me so much. I mean, they were civil, if not nice to me, and unlike kids I knew earlier on, they didn't directly bully me. But ever since then, I've always been suspicious that people are only nice to me to be polite, and they all [[secretly gossip]] about how annoying I am behind my back.\n\n[[It's true. We all secretly hate you.|sarcastic]]\n[[Hey, now, some people say really nice things about you behind your back.|nice]]

The best ones were the ones with "no odjents" -- by which, as it took a while to figure out, they meant "audience". Meaning, the DVD was ripped directly from a screener copy, and not filmed inside a theatre using a wobbly camcorder, complete with the occasional person getting up to use the bathroom.\n\nI myself particularly liked finding copies of obscure videogames that, for some reason, didn't have widespread North American releases. Like European point-and-click adventures. Or the original Japanese versions of the Bust-A-Groove games.\n\n[[Of course.|crowd]]

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"<<StoryTitle>>"\n\nby <<StoryAuthor>>\n\n[[Start.|intro]]

I duck, and the <<print $weapon>> narrowly misses me. <<print $nemesis>> attacks me again, and again, and I successfully move out of the way every time, until finally, <<print $nemesis>> throws a hissy fit and storms off.\n\n"Fine! You can have your stinking <<print $artifact>>. I wasn't even using it anyway!"<<if $nemesis is "Fati Khanum">> She then mumbles "bache poroo" under her breath.<<endif>>\n\n[[Good job?|bully]]

I do come back to Edmonton, a few times. But I'm not the same anymore. I notice things I didn't notice before. The increased prevalence of casual racism and homophobia. And the cold. It's too cold, now. Or too dry and hot in the summer. How did I survive with all those mosquitoes everywhere?\n\n<<house>>

I scoff, shake my head, and walk away. He chases after me, offering me lower and lower prices, until I get annoyed enough to let him take my money. (Wow, I can't believe that actually worked! I've only ever watched other people do it. Still, I hate haggling and would rather not, if I can help it.)\n\n<<hungry>>

Not that it would have done any good; I've been chewed out by my parents before for reading when I was supposed to be sociable. One time, I slept over at <<if $uncle is false>>a friend's<<else if $bookfriend is false>>my friend <<cyclinglink $bookfriend "Jenny" "Adrienne" "Zoe" "Nikki" "Tessa" "Ruby">>'s<<else>>my friend <<print $bookfriend>>'s<<endif>> house and read books the whole time instead of playing with her.\n\nI had no idea I was doing anything wrong, and I didn't hate her or anything like that. I just saw some good books on her shelf and wanted to read them, and then I guess I lost track of time.\n\n[[Wow.|intro]]

God, I can't even tell you how many of them there are in the Philippines, with their adorable pleading eyes and malnourished bodies. But, as every adult over there has ever told me, no amount of money you throw at them will actually help them -- it all goes to organized crime syndicates and such.\n\nI can't help but feel bad, but I also feel like there's nothing I can do.\n\n[[What about food. Can't you give them food?|give them food]]\n[[Yow. Okay.|crowd]]

So, I take a cookie. In fact, I take two of them. The adults in the room laugh nervously, but at that age, I don't even notice.\n\n<<wrong>>

My sister, as a tween, owned, like, seven of these. I'm amazed they didn't all fall apart after a day of use.\n\n[[No kidding.|crowd]]

My parents never allowed us to have one (they were a waste of time) so I'd play at friends' houses, which helped maintain their magical properties in my mind. But we did always have a computer, so I played the knockoff shareware games instead. Commander Keen instead of Mario. Jazz Jackrabbit instead of Sonic. That sort of thing.\n\nNow that I've spent the last decade or so seeing how the sausage gets made, game consoles aren't magical to me anymore. Not so much. I could theoretically afford the latest PretendBoxStation 4U if I really wanted one, but I don't. Instead, the bulk of my "gaming" time is spent playing Twines about people's delicate fee-fees.\n\n[[Rather like this one, huh?|leaflet]]

I'm told not to eat them, even if they look delicious. Sanitary standards aren't the same as they are in Canada, and all that.\n\n[[Righto.|crowd]]

All right, all right. How about I just give you some random names and story details? If you don't like them, just click on them to change them.\n\nSo, first, there's Uncle <<cyclinglink $uncle "Babak" "Mahmoud" "Firouz" "Keyvan" "Farzad" "Mansour" "Kianush" "Manuchehr" "Reza" "Amir" "Omid" "Shervin" "Jamshid">>, who isn't actually my uncle, but a friend of my dad's from <<cyclinglink "back in Iran" "back when they were college students in the Philippines">>, and his wife, Auntie <<cyclinglink $auntie "Arezu" "Shohreh" "Golnoush" "Fariba" "Munireh" "Anahita" "Leila" "Nazanin" "Zaynab">>. (I called all my dad's friends "uncle" and "auntie", to the point that I didn't realise my actual aunt and uncle on my dad's side were related to me for the longest time.)\n\nThey have a kid -- of course -- a <<cyclinglink $kidgender "boy" "girl">> <<cyclinglink $kidage "much older than me" "about my age" "about my brother's age" "about my sister's age">>.\n\n[[Those gender options are kinda binary, huh?|these people's kid]]

What? You mean, like, knock on the door and be all, "hi, I used to live here"? Nah, it's okay. I'll just admire it from outside.\n\n[[Whatever you're comfortable with.|house]]

When my mom came to join my dad here in Canada, after they got married, it was hard. Going from hot humidity and people everywhere to this... this cold, quiet loneliness... it was depressing, or so she told me once I was old enough to know what depression was.\n\nMy grandparents came to visit from the Philippines, and my grandmother told her, when you start your own family, this will be your home. So, she had me, and then it was.\n\nTo this day, I find calm in quiet, which makes me exactly the same as every other introvert on the internet. I hate the cold, but that's what staying inside with books and computers is for, right?\n\n[[Totally.|snow]]

When I was a little older, I learned to do this too, to a boy with ADD. In the long run, it didn't make me any less of a social pariah, and I feel awful about it to this day.\n\nIt just goes to show, when you've been oppressed, and that's all you know, it's scarily easy to become an oppressor yourself, once you have the opportunity.\n\n[[That IS scary.|moved away once again]]

Yeah, I know, right? I came from a pretty binary culture, in spite of the fact that Farsi doesn't have gendered pronouns. Neither does Tagalog, my mom's native language, for that matter. It just goes to show that language alone isn't enough.\n\n<<if $kidgender is "girl">>So, that girl, <<cyclinglink $kidname "Sara" "Roxana" "Mona" "Neda" "Roya" "Nadia" "Bahar">><<else>>So, that boy, <<cyclinglink $kidname "Navid" "Ryan" "Nabil" "Shawn" "Rod" "Mike" "Nima" >><<endif>>... <<if $kidage is "about my age">>since we were the same age and all, <<cyclinglink "we were really good friends" "we used to be friends when we were little, but we grew apart after that" "we were ostensibly friends, but we were never actually that close">>. But for some reason, in this story, <<if $kidgender is "girl">>she<<else>>he<<endif>> isn't anywhere to be seen.<<else>>as you can probably imagine, <<if $kidage is "about my brother's age" and $kidgender is "boy">>is off somewhere hanging out with my younger brother.<<else if $kidage is "about my sister's age">>is off somewhere playing with my little sister.<<else>>we don't exactly have a lot in common.<<endif>><<endif>> Hence why I'm being antisocial in the first place.\n\n[[Got it.|intro]]

Other recurring dreams:\n\nSitting in the passenger seat of a car alone as, suddenly, the car starts to drive itself, taking me with it to parts unknown.\n\nReturning to my junior high school to tell my band teacher how much his encouragement meant to me, but getting lost or otherwise prevented from reaching the band room.\n\nFinding myself in the same city as my long-distance internet crush, only to be thwarted by their spouse (who dislikes me for reasons, although in some dreams, they're perfectly nice to me).\n\nSeeing my ex from high school and being forgiven and even loved again, only to wake up remembering I blew my chances at that forever ago, and the only way to move now is forward.\n\n[[Sweet dreams, indeed.|familiar-looking house]]

WELL OKAY THEN.

<<replace "Yeah, but..." "Everyone's way smarter and more talented than me and I feel so intimidated." "All my friends are better friends with each other than they are with me." "I can't write like a stuffy academic like everyone else here seems to be able to." "The undergrads I'm TAing for are catching on to the fact that I don't know any more about this subject than they do." "People still keep getting my pronouns wrong, even after I told them like a million times times that it's singular they, and I just don't have the energy to derail every conversation so I can explain my identity in detail." "I miss playing music with other people. I haven't been doing enough of it lately. All my music-making friends around here have been too busy, and let's face it, so have I." "I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life after I graduate. I mean, the academic job market is awful and what am I going to do, go back to industry work? Yeah, like there are any bridges left that I haven't completely torched." "I still have no idea how to explain who I am to my family without them thinking I'm turning my back on them. They probably already //do// think that about me, for all I know." "I can't stop procrastinating on actual work, so I'm writing a silly Twine game about my delicate fee-fees. If anyone knew, they'd probably laugh in my face.">>[[//SIGH.//|dinner]]<<endreplace>>

So, I'm, like, at a party at <<if $uncle is false>>the house of these [[family friends]]<<else>>Uncle <<print $uncle>> and Auntie <<print $auntie>>'s house<<endif>> -- it's my parents' choice to be there, not mine, but when you're a kid, you basically go wherever your parents take you -- and I'm sitting on their sofa, staring off into space while everyone speaks [[Farsi]] around me. God, I wish I [[brought a book]] to read.\n\nSuddenly, <<if $auntie is false>>I get offered<<else>>Auntie <<print $auntie>> offers me<<endif>> a plate of [[cookies]]. Do I want one?\n\n[[Yes you do.|take cookie]]\n[[No you don't.|refuse cookie]]

I don't want to give specifics this time, okay? Whether I was in the right or in the wrong this particular time around has nothing to do with what I'm trying to say. For all I know, I WAS out of line. But the point is, I DON'T know, because no one ever directly tells me.\n\n[[Point taken.|secretly gossip]]

I climb up the footpath looping behind the house. My surroundings become more and more sparse; today, this same place would be full of newer, bigger houses, but right now, it's just an open void.\n\n<<snow>>

That's a lie, actually. My [[family]]'s still here. They'll always be here for me. It's me who needs to get away from them, which is an awful thing to say, and I know it.\n\nI mean, I'm told not to feel bad, because it's part of being your own person and all that, but what if it's not being my own person but actually being more like a white person?\n\nI think about things like this more often than you can imagine.\n\n[[Do you, now.|time to go]]

Thank you. :)

I head on east, into town. I walk past car dealerships and chain restaurants. I keep walking as far as my short, stubby legs will take me, and almost suddenly, civilization begins to sprout around me.\n\n<<fruitstand>>

I pay for the <<print $fruit>>. I know it's overpriced, but I'm in a hurry and don't want to deal with more unnecessary social interaction than necessary. The owner looks surprised, but takes my money.\n\n<<hungry>>

There's snow... so much snow everywhere, as far as the eye can see. Pristine white, untouched by [[human contact]], save for my boot prints.\n\n[[Go back.|south of snow]]

I'm at the beach. It's overcast and smells like it's going to rain soon, but people of various [[diverse colours and creeds]] are out and about, enjoying their day.\n\n[[Go back.|east of beach]]\n[[Stay for a while.|stay]]

This kid in my class<<if $uncle neq false>>, <<if $racistfirst is false>><<cyclinglink $racistfirst "Tyler" "Jason" "Greg" "Thomas" "Justin" "Geoff" "Steve">> <<cyclinglink $racistlast "Flanagan" "Bell" "Parker" "Anderson" "Roberts" "Shelley">><<else>><<print $racistfirst>> <<print $racistlast>><<endif>>,<<endif>> spent the entirety of grade <<if $graderacist is false>><<cyclinglink $graderacist "four" "five" "six">><<else>><<print $graderacist>><<endif>> telling me, "You don't deserve to be in this school. You should be going to one of those Indian schools."\n\nIt wasn't until I was well into my twenties that I realised he meant [[residential schools|https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadian_Indian_residential_school_system]]. Knowing that now makes me throw up in my mouth a bit every time I think about it.\n\n[[Disgusting.|look physically different]]

My family used to live here, from 1991-1998, but we don't anymore. Back in the day, it was new and pristine and impressively enormous -- the ceilings in the living room were so high, to the point that I used to have [[recurring dreams]] about falling off the railing.\n\nNow, it's just a house, mostly.\n\n[[Go inside.|inside]]\n[[Go back.|house]]

Instinctively, I hold up my magic mirror shield, and sure enough, the <<print $weapon>> bounces right off of it, ricocheting back in the direction it came, and vanquishes <<print $nemesis>> into <<cyclinglink "a puddle of Plasticine" "a beautiful fireworks display" "absolute nothingness">>. Victory! The <<print $artifact>> that <<print $power>> is finally mine!\n\n[[Well done?|bully]]

<<insert "I adjust.">>\n\n<<insert "I make new friends.">>\n\n<<insert "I make my first game.">>\n\n<<insert "I fall in love with someone of the so-called wrong gender and mess it up horribly.">>\n\n<<insert "I fall in love with someone of the so-called correct gender and mess it up just as badly.">>\n\n<<insert "I get a computer science degree.">>\n\n<<insert "I land a dream job in the game industry.">>\n\n<<insert "I get laid off from my game industry job for being, in clichéd tech jargon terms, a poor culture fit.">>\n\n<<insert "I join a band.">>\n\n[[I come to a better place of self-acceptance.|time to go]]<<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>><<endinsert>>

It isn't until much later in life that I realise I was [[doing it all wrong|tarof]]. But at this point, I have no idea. So I just go back to daydreaming.\n\n[[What are you daydreaming about?|daydream]]

You can take those complaints at face value. You can be charitable and blame the sound people for not turning down the volume of my mic, and not giving me a monitor so I could adjust accordingly. Or you could read between the lines and figure they're uncomfortable about the content, but can't articulate why, so they latch on to something tangible.\n\nI've racked my brain nonstop about this, and I'm kind of tired of doing so, to be honest.\n\n[[I can see why.|created a monster]]

We were all in band and/or choir together, and that's how we became friends. This would come to be a recurring theme in my life: music as a means for meeting new people.\n\nAfter all, it's easier for me to fit into a group when I know how I can be useful. And our music teacher that year taught me that I was good at being musical, and that was an actual thing I could offer to the world. (Somehow, eight prior years of piano lessons failed to impart this lesson upon me.)\n\n[[Hooray?|west of house]]

The <<print $fruit>> are delicious and exactly what I needed, so whatever, it was totally worth it.\n\n(I gotta say, though, writing about fruit is reminding me that I'm kinda hungry.)\n\n[[I can imagine.|fruitstand]]

It's an ad for the brand spanking new [[Super Pretendo]] game system, promising to transport me into myriad magical virtual worlds, so I can momentarily forget that I have to live in this one.\n\n[[Ooh, shiny.|house]]

Every year, I look so dark and washed out in my class pictures that I'm, like, this gaping void in the middle of a sea of pink. It's an effect even more pronounced in the black & white photocopied yearbook versions of these pictures.\n\nPeople keep asking me where I'm from -- or worse, [[making assumptions]] about my origins -- and it takes me a while to learn that the answer they want to hear is [["my dad's from Iran and my mom's from the Philippines"]].\n\n[[Hmm...|deserved]]