I thought for sure it was dead. I had accidentally knocked it off my table and on to the floor it landed. It wouldn't power on. I tried every station in every possible setting. Nothing. I tried putting a cartridge in at some point. Dead. Then, when I had lost all hope and figured I needed to buy that $430 Jaguar I saw at the used video game store, I put in Val d'Isere. The Jaguar powered on and gave me a red screen. It had actually worked, better than not working at all.
I blew on the contacts for a little bit. Ol' Val had worked. My Jaguar was working again. I don't know why it didn't the few dozen times I had pushed the power button before. Anyway, now that that was out of the way and with my Jaguar working, I decided to test the title screen I had made for a game I have no idea what will be about. It worked. Better than on VirtualJaguar. I needed to move it to the left a little. So I did. My TV is weird. It's an old CRT (1993) and has rounded edges on the picture. The "d" at the end of the screen was partially blocked by the rounded edge.
This is going to be the first game beginning with the letter o since "Ocean Depths" isn't really a game. So my Jaguar is working for now. And my title screen is working for now. I had a non-lovely time trying to figure out why I could not get the 8-bit onion ring to show up. The solution was to load the clut in the game. That's it. So simple a thing. Just fixed it now to get rid of the white parts of the onion ring.
I haven't been thinking straight. I'm still worried about mom. On Sunday, we're going to cut the tree she's been worried about down. But I fear that won't be enough. I don't think if we got rid of everything she's worried about she'll stop. I think this time it's permanent.
The wasps have been trying to build some sort of nest thing near the front door. I had to knock it down in an early stage when there were no wasps in it. I don't mind the wasps building a nest, but I do mind it if they build it in front of the front door. They picked the worst possible place for me to have it. It's like life is picking on me and won't stop. And I can't die because if I did, who would get picked on then? I think they're trying to rebuild it. Stupid wasps. I hate them.