After three weeks of working out with the help of fitness games, I’ve finally seen a change on the scale. It’s a small change, just a pound, but it's progress. Honestly, I’m not surprised I saw a change this week because I really felt like I was working hard, but unfortunately that came more from frustration than enjoyable exercise.

As a rule, GameStops aren't the most hospitable of places. Racks upon racks of games in no discernible order? Check. Undersocialized acne-ridden adolescents lurking near the counter? Check. Harried-looking staffers running back and forth to the stock room to look for games that aren't out front? Check. Every time I've gone into a GameStop and have pulled out my store card, I've gotten surprised looks from the staffer helping me -- it's not a place that normal, adult women tend to shop at for themselves (although those who live with me might argue that I don't necessarily fit the categories of either "normal" or "adult").

The video game industry can be remarkably creative. But like any creative industry ultimately guided by profit forecasts, it can also be depressingly, spirit-crushingly cliché. For example, take the six games on this list. I'm not talking ordinary, everyday banality here -- oh no. These games pull off an even viler trick: Not only were they cynically made for a specific demographic, but they also demonstrate their makers knew absolutely nothing about the demographics they were targeting.

Interactive experiences typically cannot coast by on charm alone, but if any game could have pulled it off, it was LocoRoco for the PlayStation Portable. Between the colorful, singing blobs and their inescapable, joy-filled tunes, the games aesthetic oozed creativity from every digital pore. Luckily, such elements were not needed as a crutch, as the innovative gameplay lived up to its end of the bargain, creating one of the most memorable titles on Sony's handheld.

From a flowerpot set on the windowsill of an urban apartment, Flower pulls players into the potted flower's dream -- a place of grassy fields and dynamic skies where petals swim with the wind. The player's role is simple: control the wind that carries the colorful petals along by using the PlayStation 3 controller's Sixaxis motion controls; move the controller to the right and the wind stream will follow. Picking up petals with the wind evolves the bleak, largely gray environment into a color-filed place of immense beauty.

We play games to have fun. That's the point, right? In theory, yeah, we play games for pleasure: to unwind at the end of a long day, to distract ourselves from something that's been troubling us, to take a break from various obligations, and more and more to have fun with friends. However, lately I've been noticing something rather troubling coming from many gamers in my life -- they aren't always having fun. Occasionally they seem to be abhorring every second.

I’ve just played through what I can safely say is perhaps the shortest adventure game I’ve ever experienced in my entire life, and the only words to escape my lips the entire time were “wow.” The fact it takes perhaps 10 to 15 minutes at the most to play through Gravity Bone in its entirety is of little consequence. It packs a hell of a punch for a basic exercise in brevity and simplicity in a first-person adventure.

Today is inauguration day, and this time more than ever people are looking for the new presidency to usher in some serious changes. Anyone who has been listening to the news will know that expectations are especially high this time around. Many expect Obama to pull our economy out of its freefall, end conflict in the Middle East, and keep the world from warming over and petering out. So, let's say hypothetically that he takes care of hunger and manages to spearhead world peace in three years. Perhaps after he's fixed the state of the United States -- or the world even -- he could spend his fourth year working on the state of video games. We offer up our biggest gaming frustrations and share our vision of what things could be like for gamers in four years.

An open box of crayons is both an icon of youth and a pleasant reminder of what being a kid is all about. Crayons represent creativity, simplicity, happiness, and even (on occasion) mischief. Give them to a child with a pad of paper, and watch them create magical characters and concoct fantastic stories. Crayon Physics Deluxe perfectly captures the innocent, youthful bliss of being totally free to messily scribble and create colorful worlds on paper, while also cleverly incorporating the laws of physics into an open-ended puzzle gaming experience that’s simply unforgettable.

The possibility of the virtual world eventually fostering sentient life is an eerie one, but it’s something that may not be too far out of the bounds of reality. Set within the confines of a fictional video game universe, Darwinia offers a highly experimental, witty, and engaging glance into what free-willed artificial intelligence might look like. It’s hard not to develop an almost parental desire to protect the game’s helpless little pixilated protagonists, and you’ll want to take up arms without hesitation to save them from imminent destruction.