Well, my nomination would be February. But as I explain in my most recent column, April is the Crewelist Month.
Still, this month has been somewhat cruel. My partner’s office closed down, resulting in dozens of people who lost their jobs, including her.* And I’ve been so busy with a freelance project that we’ve barely had any time to play board games at all — although I did attend PAX East in March, where I got to play Outpost (fun, although I still prefer Scepter of Zavandor), Innovation (still addictive), Quarriors (fun, but a bit too luck-based), and Legend of the Cipher (so fun, I’m joining the development team). And in April I got in a few rounds of Flash Duel, which I mean to review as soon as I can take some pictures of my first edition.
But I digress. I was talking about April showers of cruelty. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. But I will tell you that it’s much worse to have a false hope dangled in front of you and then pulled out from under your feet than not to have seen it at all.**
So, a few days ago I got an email from someone wanting to buy a banner ad on my blog. Two years ago I received a cold email from a random company wanting to buy a text ad, and said text ad is still atop my site (go click if you like online bingo, non-US readers!), and has brought me a few hundred dollars. So I figured a banner ad, though more intrusive, would bring more money which would be really handy roundabouts now. I suggested a price I thought was a touch high, and it was accepted without negotiation, to my surprised delight.
I looked at their instructions for putting up the banner ad, and it included instructions to install a Wordpress plugin, which set off my Spidey-sense. So I Googled the name of the ad company and the word “scam”, and came across this blogpost, which confirmed that indeed this was spam/scam, and not the deus ex machinadvertisement I had initially hoped. And I mean, I know two weeks ago I wasn’t expecting that money at all, but it’s sure more cruel to have it appear and then disappear.
Speaking of cruelty, April is National Poetry Month, so I’m going to share one of the short poems I’ve been writing daily throughout April:
“Absolutely True Sonnet of the Afternoon Flash Game”
Thisafternoon I played an online game
Where players build a deck and PvP.
The first of our three rounds my foe did claim
And, poised to win the second, typed “GG”.
But then, I drew the cards to stay alive,
While his deck seemed to give him cards that suck.
And somehow, I had managed to survive,
He’d not, and said, “You had a lot of luck.”
Retorted I, “Your luck was in rare cards.”
Said he, “That wasn’t luck, I bought each rare.”
Said I, “Th’economy these days is hard,
If you can spend on flash games, your luck’s fair.”
Said he, “I’m well-employed, I must confess.”
Poor me, at least I’d had a lucky guess.
I ended up losing the third game. But at least I discovered a new alternative energy source, which is to hook a generator up to Shakespeare***, who is surely now turning in his grave.
*Her comment: “I’m just waiting for someone to ask me if I looked under the couch.” Yep, I’m still in love.
**It’s even worse than a horribly mixed metaphor where hope is suspended from the ceiling one minute and serving as a rug in the next. Hope: It’s a combination chandelier and carpet! It’s a floor wax! It’s a dessert topping!
***I know, I know, that’s my solution to everything.