FarmVille Blues

Cancer is cruel. Late last summer, as I helplessly watched chemo decimate my mother's body, mind and spirit, and in a desperate attempt to regain some control over the uncontrollable, I began playing FarmVille. Currently boasting over 63.8 million active monthly users, FarmVille is the most popular game on Facebook. As I grew my starter farm from 6 squares ("fields") of tillable soil to a whopping 484 squares (a portion of which is occupied by farm animals, trees, buildings and decorations), I found an escape from the agonizing, hopeless prospect of losing a parent to Stage 4 non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. Instead of obsessing about Mother's intense pain and anxiety, extreme nausea and unthinkable suffering, I built my farm. I added cows, horses, and sheep. I planted a variety of crops and a lot of fast-growing strawberries, so I could "level up" faster. I watched my coins and "Farm cash" grow, and expanded my farm several times to maximize profitability. I found order in a world that was unpredictable and chaotic.

I am now halfway to Level 70, the highest level achievable in this game. I am not a hard-core gamer and have long viewed electronic games as a complete waste of time and brain power. There are no games in my home other than a few dusty board games, a deck of cards, and a cribbage board. I live in a Wii-less household. I spend most of my day at a computer writing code and creating graphics, so spending my leisure time staring at a monitor and forcing my blood pressure to spike is not my idea of fun. That is, until FarmVille, which I found relaxing and enjoyable. It stimulated my creative juices and replenished my resources. It helped me refocus and lifted my spirits during a season of gloom. There was no rise in blood pressure. I experienced only a sense of serenity as I grew my berries and tomatoes, picked them when ripe, and plowed my fields.

FarmVille is a game for non-gamers. In truth, most gamers would probably not understand the allure of FarmVille. The point of the game is to grow crops, tend animals, and harvest. We plow, we seed, we pick our grapes, collect maple sap, and pluck fruit from trees. We milk our cows and harvest eggs and swan feathers. This is a return to basics in the simplest form. I have always loved gardening and picking vegetables from my back yard for supper. I secretly yearn to keep hens and goats. FarmVille is an opportunity to be a lazy farmer. The most energy I exert is in clicking my mouse.

Zynga, the creator of FarmVille, keeps the game interesting by frequently introducing new seeds, animals, holiday-themed decorations and other (useless) "stuff" to place on one's farm. I recently purchased a crashed UFO to decorate my pumpkin patch and also added a crop circle. These items do not benefit my farm's bottom line and serve only to make me chuckle.

Mom is gone now, succumbing to a disease that devoured her body and destroyed her mind. Since she passed 9 days ago, I have wondered whether I should stop playing FarmVille. After all, I only started playing the game to keep me sane during a difficult time. As I considered abandoning my farm, I came to the disturbing realization that I'm fully invested in this game. That's the civilized way of saying I'm addicted to FarmVille, and as with all serious addictions, this one is worthy of an intervention. The mere fact that I have taken time away from FarmVille to write this is a good sign.

Lately, FarmVille is not relaxing. The more bells and whistles Zynga introduces, the more frenetic the game becomes. The occasional clickable bonus award that appeared on my Facebook Live Feed, with the promise of coins, has evolved into an urgent, ferocious seduction that demands my immediate attention every two minutes. Seize the turkey, or the turtle, or the lost kitten! Get your bonus coins, but do it within 2 seconds, else someone else will grab it! Snag a Mystery Egg! But if you don't do it quickly, you'll miss out! (If you delay, you're apt to be told, "Sorry, so-and-so's eggs have already been claimed." As a post-menopausal woman, I take this statement very personally.)

Last night I snagged almost 40 Mystery Eggs. I was afraid to leave my laptop to go to the bathroom. My mouse finger twitched uncontrollably. I'd hit rock bottom. I was in the FarmVille gutter, covered in turkey feathers and maple sap. For today, I am stepping away from Facebook and FarmVille. I doubt that my 130 farmer neighbors will notice my absence with all those Mystery Eggs and turkeys popping up on their feeds, but if they do, I hope they'll understand that I'm looking for a 12-step meeting, walking my neglected canines, visiting with my significant other, and taking the time to actually sit down and eat a meal.

Who Killed Jenny?

After being held hostage by "The L Word" for six seasons, last Sunday's series finale left me feeling disappointed and somewhat annoyed. After committing countless Sunday nights to the Showtime series, I expected more. I wanted a reward for my unfailing devotion. I'm one of those people who needs closure. I'm not happy just walking away. I want to know who (or what) killed Jenny. I need to know what happens to characters who've spent a lot of time hanging out in my living room. I yearn for resolution - not a Sopranoesque ending that leaves me saying, "Huh?". Simply put, the finale didn't deliver.

When the credits rolled at the end with no answers offered, I couldn't believe what I was (or wasn't) seeing. The last episode seemed a clumsy wrap-up of a season of flashbacks leading up to the demise of Jenny, the character we loved to hate. From the repeated mentions of the unrepaired balcony railing to the implausible and weak Dylan/Helena break-up, the finale served to remind me that all six seasons of the show were not based in reality, but on a fantastical world where everyone is beautiful, rich and privileged. Our heroines did not drive beat up Toyotas and Nissans. Theirs was a world where everyone drives Bentleys, Lexuses, BMWs and Escalades. Even the one working class character, transgendered Moira/Max Sweeney, who landed on the scene in season 3, was eventually absorbed into this mythical existence of wealth and power, leaving all traces of blue-collar behind. This sci-fi queer utopia bore little resemblance to real life, but contained all the ingredients of an elaborate dream sequence.

To the show's credit, however, creator Ilene Chaiken and director Rose Troche delivered a groundbreaking series that brought queerdom into mainstream pop culture. The L Word tackled a plethora of social issues, including breast cancer and the military's "Don't ask, don't tell" policy. We were introduced to TV's first hearing-impaired lesbian, a transgendered man, bisexuals, drag queens and kings, gay parents, a biracially identified character, addictions galore, and sexual abuse.

Rumor has it a spinoff is in the works. "The Farm" will star L Word character Alice Pieszecki, who plays a prison inmate. Can we assume this has something to do with the death of Jenny? Did Alice kill crazy Jenny? Was she framed? There is also a fair amount of internet chatter about a movie, and possibly more spinoffs. The end of the L Word is, quite possibly, not an ending at all, but a springboard to further story lines.

In considering that we may be seeing more of Bette, Tina, Shane, Tasha, Helena and Alice, my ambivalence is palpable. At least we won't have to suffer the insanities of psycho Jenny anymore.

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