Since online gaming was introduced to me I've always been intrigued with the idea of sharing my gaming experiences with another person. I loved having another thinking, feeling person in there to huddle with for warmth in the cold mathematical winters of our digital worlds. Something about playing a game with another person makes it feel like less of an escape and more of an adventure. Two or more people pretending it was all real always seemed to increase the immersion, and, along with the validation of having fellow enthusiasts to team up with, there was also the slightly more conceded interest of now having a way to measure yourself against another human being.

With the arrival of the 360 the availability of details on fellow gamers was increased by a factor. The information has become so abundant I don't even have to physically talk to the other person to know what they've been up to. The most intimate details of their gaming life are open to anyone who wants to browse their profile.

The bullet rips through his body like a baseball through a plate glass window. He drops in a pile of blood and armor, destined to return to his home in a black bag along with his blushing bride. There is an exhilarating high that is running through my blood as I see the second body crumpled on the ground. This is why I play: the thrill of the hunt, the rush of the kill, the excitement of escape. Each frag is a small victory; recorded proof that I've defeated another human being at a common task. Every time I get someone in the scope the game has started for me and when they fall to their knees from a high velocity slug the competition is over. I am the winner, and for a brief period I feel like a god among men. But the moment is brief, and after a few seconds I start to feel the urge build again. The urge to win, not the game, but one on one against my fellow man, and to prove to myself and everyone else that I am superior, no matter what.

The mind can come up with some pretty wild ways of handling difficult choices. As humans we have the tendency to change our environment when it doesn't suit us, but in the brain things can get a little more complicated. Imagination overrides logical thought creating new, more easily manageable, realities. I pretend that nothing exists but what I'm working on and call it "focus." I excuse myself from failure by requesting ridiculous criteria be satisfied like needing an "extra pair of hands." When Halo 3's release date seems to be dragging slower and slower I claim that time itself has slowed to inconvenience me. Or, if I haven't saved my money I might even claim that I have intentionally slowed that release date to allow for me to collect the currency I need to purchase it.

As a gamer it isn't a huge feat for me to change the perception of real time events in my mind; it's my hobby. As one whose pockets aren't blessed with wads of cash, it's almost become a necessity. I would love to rush out to the game store every time a highly anticipated release rolls out, but with my income and lifestyle it's not a realistic option. It wouldn't take long for me to start slapping down credit cards instead of twenties. After that it would probably be the deed to my car, then maybe some sort of crack cocaine, later a baby.

Gamers are a sizeable subset of the consumer public. We range through all ages, races, genders, and tax brackets. The criteria to qualify for our demographic grows each year between the 9 mainstream platforms, a multitude of developers spanning the globe, a strong modding and freeware community, and a niche genre for nearly any gameplay style and mentality out there. It seems like working in public relations for a game publisher would be a living nightmare. But, in spite of all this potential hassle a few game companies are thriving and growing fat on the millions of dollars we as the gaming public dole out on a yearly basis.

How does that happen? The same way a lot of big corporations get rich: consumer trust. Brand loyalty has got to be one of the most bizarre phenomena to ever come out of the capitalist system but it is alive and well. People will wait for hours at night in freezing rain for a system because it has Sony written on the side of it. They'll rob each other at gunpoint and blindly keep paying their hard earned money for Madden after Madden after Madden, just because it's the next in a series. It's a growing trend that I suspect publishers are not only aware of, but are beginning to take advantage of in a way that can only be described as ravenous.

Stress can be a killer. It has the potential to affect you in every aspect of your life and it's something that we all have to learn to deal with at some point. Everyone has to find what works best for them to bleed off the frustrations of the day. The Canadian Mental Health Association even decided to help us choose our best method by compiling a list of 18 things a person can do to relieve the negative factors of stress from their life. Despite the list including things like yoga, exercise, and changing my diet, I did find a suggestion that interested me. Suggestion #10 says that I should "get away for awhile - Read a book, watch a movie, play a game, listen to music or go on vacation. Leave [myself] some time that's just for [me]."

Way ahead of you Canadian Mental Health Association! I've been playing games for years, almost everyday for hours at a time. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that gaming is a great way to escape your problems. Neat little wrapped up worlds that I can figure out and breakdown and live in with no threat of unemployment, divorce, or death seem like the perfect vacation spot for a busy desk jockey like myself.

At least, they used to be. Lately I've noticed that even though I still get a decent amount of game playing in, I'm not really feeling any less stressed. I sit down and am happy as long as I'm immersed, but as soon as I stop playing all of the day's problems and headaches come rushing back at me. Maybe I'm just under so much stress I'm having trouble coping with it all, like trying to chew with a mouth full of food.

Ah, Christmas. December 25th. Big J's birthday, and according to my TV, the only day out of the entire year that I have the opportunity to tell every single person that I've ever loved that they mean something to me. The only day I have to get them something they've always wanted, but haven't already gotten themselves. It's also the best time of year to buy the most expensive things in stock at my local retailer.

At least, that's what I think the TV is telling me. All I know for sure is that the "shopping holiday" is back and that means the bookstore is crowded, the roads are jammed on Sundays, and all the commercials have snowflakes in them.

I'm not a huge fan of Christmas. I'm not against the idea of it, but I find the reality of an event based on giving in a country based on materialism often over shadows any of the original intent of this holiday. I didn't always feel this disdain for the holidays. I used to love Christmas, just like I used to love my birthday or any other event where I got gifts. What kid doesn't want crap all the time? It wasn't until I grew up a little that I realized that that was all Christmas was to me, just a time of hyperactive consumerism.

"Good afternoon, Gentleman. I'm very happy to see that so many of you made it to our meeting. It is a very good thing for everyone that all of you showed up." The tall man tapped his papers on the desk to get them in order. His expensive tailored suit flattened out smooth as he stood up and looked out along the conference table. "I'm sure you all know why you are here. You're here because there is something about your current self image that comes off as distasteful to the general public. Whether it be your physical appearance, your odd idiosyncrasies, or your merciless nature, there is just something about you that rubs people the wrong way. What we're going to do here today is examine what specific traits portray a negative image and start taking steps towards a more personable and relatable public face."

The participants around the room looked at each other, some with apprehension but most with a gleam of excitement in their eyes.

I hate going to Wal-Mart. It's not so much the store as it is all the people; the ones that pretend to shop but are really just hanging out, or rotting standing up, or whatever else they've decided to do rather than select goods from the shelves and move to the front to purchase them. Their dead weight transforms the entire experience from one of neutral necessity to one of pure hell.

You see, when I go to Wal-Mart I go to win. I arrive with a game plan. I commit the store layout to memory. I take the time of day and date into account to predict concentrations of shoppers to avoid, and if I'm really on top of my game I will even lay out a path through the store in my head.

I have a dirty little secret. One that takes a little bit of courage to admit to my gaming peers publicly. My secret is that I frequently take advantage of my local Gamestop's buy back policy.

Actually, taking advantage doesn't really describe my actions. It's more like I ravenously pour through all of my games and movies on a weekly basis to find anything that I can part with, and since the purchase of an Xbox 360 this ritual has only gotten worse.

A gamer with a job; I can't think of a person that needs to stay awake more. Well, maybe a few, like a doctor or a pilot, with a concussion. Or a guy on a unicycle, he's gotta be alert. But, I don't write for Concussed Doctors with Unicycles so I'm not worried about them. The point is that gaming tends to drag on into the night, and work tends to cut into our morning nap time so we have to find a way to keep our eyes open on a day to day basis. We have to, at least, appear alert and comprehending as we put in our 8 or 10 or 12 hours.

Enter coffee. The hot black liquid is what keeps most of us chugging along. It's the moonshine in our diesel engine. The only reason some of us can twist our chapped lips into the slight curve of a smile at 8:00 a.m.

It's so important that my work even provides its employees with an unlimited supply of this magical elixir. This ensures that we don't all come in to work only to immediately slump over our desks and chairs as if The Joker had just released his silent nerve gas into the building. It's just a part of my everyday life as I'm sure it is for a large portion of people that game and work, and that means you are all aware of that one device that taints the sweet existence of our precious life blood: those cheap, little styrofoam cups.