Friends, I am going to start this post by being the first to raise my hand and say that I, Miss Bliss, am not the originator of this idea. I’ve heard about it via girlfriend confessionals, and I’m sure others in the blogosphere have written about it. But, nonetheless, I’ve got to tell you about how to use the Oregon Trail as a means of past relationship exorcism.
So…we all grew up on and cherished “The Oregon Trail,” right? Right. What’s not to love? The drama…packing up all your belongings and heading West into the great unknown. The danger…wildlife, thieves, famine, disease, raging rivers. And finally, reward…reaching the promised land and cashing in on riches untold. How they packed so much adventure onto a humble floppy disk is far beyond me. And here’s the kicker…they LET us play this game in the library and IN SCHOOL. Thank you, “educational” games of the ’80s!
Nowadays, it is possible to download Oregon Trail emulators and experience the adventure all over again! And my dear friend Jakey B informed me yesterday that Facebook will soon be releasing a new version. (Get ready for productivity at work to screech to an all-time low.)
But, let’s face it. We’re older now. We’re sophisticated. We’ve seen it all. We’ve even advanced to much higher levels of gaming. (I hear there is something out there now called a “Oui.”) So, how do you rekindle the spark in a game of yesteryear, such as the Oregon Trail? Well, you use it as a substitute for the therapist’s couch, that’s how.
First up, gather your girlfriends. The ones who know what it’s like, the ones who have been through the sh*t with you, as it were.
Next, set up your game by naming all the members of your “family” in the wagon. Personally, I like to load my wagon up with ex-boyfriends…not the well-meaning, harmless ones…not the high school ones who turned out to not like girls…but the bad ones. The real DBs. You know who I’m talkin’ ’bout. And you know what? Irritating co-workers also will do. Whatever you need to work through, just take it to the trail, friend. Take it to the trail.
Then, there’s only one thing left to do: set the rations to “meager” and the pace to “grueling.” God, Darwin, and karma will take care of the rest.
Ultimately, you get the satisfaction of seeing some grave sites. Here lies Bob. He died of dysentery. Here lies Bill. He died of typhoid. Here lies that one guy you didn’t find out was 41 until five dates in. He died of old.
Anyway, am I a bitter, shriveled up old hag who wishes for her ex-boyfriends a meaningless and cold death on the unforgiving frontier?