God Doesn't Want Me To Have Nice Things

Guess what.

Tonight, while I was at work, some asshole(s) broke into my car and stole my backpack.

The asshole(s) tried accessing the interior of my car through the sunroof first, but when that didn't work out they just broke one of the rear side windows. They didn't take the cd player and they didn't take the amplifier. Only my backpack.

There is only one conclusion.

They knew what was in my backpack: my laptop computer.

I didn't call the police and I didn't tell the doorman that I left with at work tonight. What's the point? I would just be out there for hours and nothing would ever come of it. Pick up the glass? Who the fuck cares? I just pounded my fist a couple times on the now-bent sunroof to get it to close a bit and then drove off knowing that I was still going to have to deal with the engine overheating on the drive home.

It is taking me a long time to write this blog entry due mostly to the fact that my hands are shaking so much from anger that I am forced to type each word 3 times before I get it right. The fact that I can barely see can be attributed to how livid I am and does not help my typing speed get better.

My conclusion: God doesn't want me to have nice things or even decent things for that matter.

I am now waiting for the moment this new lcd monitor breaks. I predict it will rupture rather than short out. This should send a vast amount of liquid at my computer causing it to short out and cease operation. Don't be surprised when you see that post here detailing the occurrance. It will be typed from my brother's computer, of course. I only hope I am not in front of it when it happens to explode...

I can't.. don't know.. DOES NOT COMPUTE

I realized tonight that I have no idea how to handle a compliment. Not just any compliment either, the ones that I speak of are directed at me.

That's right folks, someone complimented me. My first reaction was to call bull. After I had done that, I came up with an alternate version of the compliment that didn't involve someone complimenting me. Then, when that was refuted, I ran out of things to say. That doesn't happen to me often, and when it does, it is usually after I have had plenty to say, before my retort reserves have dried up.

I was thinking, why am I not able to handle a kind word tossed in my direction?

I dunno.

I don't like compliments. They make me feel uncomfortable. Witty, sarcastic remarks have no place here, and that leaves me with no ability to communicate verbally.

How Is That Possible?

Drove my car tonight, somehow it still manages to overheat driving directly into 35 degree, 25 mph winds. I know the stupid thing has coolant in it, I checked only yesterday. The coolant tank is half full, where it should be.

Okay, maybe the pump is dead, it's not moving the coolant around. Possible, yet unlikely. Sometimes the car runs just fine, no overheating issues at all. That temp gauge hovering exactly where it used to when it ran its best.

I hate this car. And yet, I love it. I want this car to be cool, to be fun. It is semi-fast, nimble, and it has ample space for long-legged freaks like me.

It's so embarrasing when I have to try to keep the car moving in order for it to not overheat and I get stuck at a traffic light. Roller-coaster idle for all to hear and mock. Meanwhile, I am watching the temp needle zip right past the red marks in the temp gauge into unmarked territory, praying to God that it doesn't explode right there while stopped at the intersection of Falls and Blue Lakes Blvd.

I need a car that doesn't overheat in below-freezing temperatures and could get me to Boise if I so needed.

My curent setup meets neither of these objectives.

This Is How I Feel 24/7

I was recently perusing the interweb and had a chance encounter with a blog named The Splintered Mind. Specifically, this page is where I ended up.

Now, I don't want to come across as trying to tell everyone I have ADD or something as this blog is primarily concerned with it. I don't think that trying to convince anyone that you have a disorder or anything is productive in any way. I just read through this post and found that it hit home in a couple ways.

There are several things in this post that very accurately describe the way I think about myself. I never really realized it until I read it, though.

"The media is filled with people who are "better than us" who fought against the odds to bring new meaning to people's lives and we can't even remember to take the trash out."

Yup.

"... often focused only on what they should have done instead of what they were able to accomplish."

Yup.

"Is it faulty religion? The wrong political party in control? Your annoying roommate? Your mother who never loved you? No. It's you. You know what you can accomplish and you get mad at yourself for not accomplishing it yet. You're stuck in a maze of your own making."

I cannot emphasize the sentence above enough. I think I am intelligent. My Mom and some random tests (GED, etc.) have indicated so, but I just can't seem to get my act together.

I really want to graduate this semester, but a couple weeks back I missed 3 days of school in a row. Not because I was sick, not because I had a funeral to go to, and certainly not because of any actual valid reason. I just didn't want to go. School is boring. The classes are so damn easy that I never open the textbooks at all or even study in any way and I still get 90's or better (one exception, 88% on my last Macroeconomics exam) on all my tests.

The worst part, at least to me, about missing those days of school was self-made. I was overridden with guilt about not going, about wasting my parents' hard-earned money that they spent investing in my future, my life. It permeated my thoughts. I kicked myself mentally over and over again. Why did I do that? I am smarter than that.

Or am I?

I don't think anything I can put down in words here can impress upon you the intense hatred I have for myself and my actions with any accuracy. I feel this during every waking moment of my life. My brother is done with his Bachelors degree at CSI after 2 years already, and I'm struggling to complete mine still after 5 years. Nothing can describe the humiliation I feel about this. I have nothing to compare it to. It's funny, I don't hink I have ever told anyone how I really feel about this. I have joked about it, but that's how I keep others from knowing how utterly worthless and humiliated it makes me. Writing about it here just created fresh new waves of guilt, yay.

"I know what type of author I could be if only I could free myself from distractions and focus on that Great American Fantasy Novel. Whether I am deluded or not is up for argument, but focusing on what I haven't accomplished only sets me up for depression. And depression feeds rumination about underachievement. It's a vicious little maze, ..."

I want to write a novel, too. It's funny how this guy mentioned that specifically. I also want to start my own business, teach myself how to develop websites using PHP, learn how to use MySQl databases with those PHP pages, make trance music, and become a decent cook. Looking to my past record, I doubt I will be able to accomplish any of these, ever. This disappoints me as I think I could be a decent web developer. I'm not an artist, so the sites wouldn't necessarily be pretty to look at, but functionality? You betcha, it'd have it.

What's my point here? To give you an understanding of what my mind is like, how it functions, what I think. I don't want to be seen as some psuedo-sentimental, pity soliciting crybaby. If that is the impression I gave, then disregard this entire post. Leave me a comment anonymously and then I will delete this post.

I'm serious.

Final Fantasy 12 Real Potion Drink

I want to know why it is that we in the United States of America, the greatest country in the world, do not get to see freaking awesome commercials like this.



I WANT SOME OF THAT POTION!!

The New Monitor

Guess what.

I got a new monitor.

That's right, 19 inches of pure, unblurry Samsung LCD goodness. Now I can spend hours on my computer (like I always do) and not have a headache afterwards (like I always do).

For some reason, this put me into a nostalgic mood. I got onto Ebay and spent some time looking for the original Star Wars films on laserdisc. The reason I want them on laserdisc is purely fanatical in nature. These were the last released forms of Star Wars episodes 4, 5, and 6 before George Lucas decided they needed an "upgrade" and put in all those crappy CG scenes. Don't get me wrong here, I own every single Star Wars film on DVD and I am planning on rounding this collection out with the Driods and Ewok Adventure DVD's as well. It's just that I would like a way to own the films in their original form, un-retouched, without badly spliced scenes.

I know most of you won't care, but I do.

And it's my blog, so there.


HAN SHOT FIRST!