An Uncomfortably Emotional Message

I really do hate going on about my own personal difficulties (as much as I tend to do so anyway), but the purpose of this blog is to allow others out there to come to a better understanding of who and what I am by being exposed to those spontaneous and unique traits of mine that they otherwise might not be. I feel that in order for this purpose to be fulfilled, I need to be very honest about some of the things going on in my life that others cannot readily see. It is both a blessing and a curse, but I have the very well developed ability to hide my feelings and emotions from view until I am safely at home and out of sight of the general public. This means that I don't break down when things get difficult or stressful - that is, I don't break down immediately. I excuse myself, go home and THEN I break down. In the mean time, everything is locked safely inside so I do not end up making a scene, disturbing others and embarrassing myself. Taking into account that I do have Aspergers Syndrome, as well as the fact that many of the other individuals I have met with the same and other related conditions have no qualms about throwing a childish fit in public, one would not be wrong to see this as a good thing. I agree with them insofar as that is concerned. It is very inconvenient, however, because it means that I give no clear and present indication of any inner turmoil, even when it is of such severity that it is slowly eating away at my very soul. The only ones that ever see my distress are those that I am the closest to. Namely, my mother and father. 

Bear in mind that I am in Austin specifically because there is a program here dedicated to aiding those of us with Aspergers Syndrome in learning how to cope in normal society, particularly in college, and become successful, independent and productive members of society. The men and women that run this branch of the program are trained professionals that understand exactly what I am going through and can help me. That is, if they had any idea that I was in distress. I have become so proficient at holding back the physical manifestations of my anxiety and irritations that we recently found out that the people at CLE had absolutely no idea that the problems that I had mentioned from time to time were anywhere as severe as they are, much to the annoyance of both myself and my mother.

The problem is that I do not feel comfortable putting myself in a vulnerable situation with people that I do not already have a well established relationship of a specific caliber. Never mind the fact that since I arrived here in July of 2011, CLE has been juggling around their staff and students on an almost continuous basis. (Not a good thing to be doing in a program for people who need structure and stability.) Never mind the fact that I'm already a very capable individual with just a few specific problems while the majority of the rest of the 50 or so students enrolled in the program are considerably less functional. Disregard the fact that my parents enrolled me in this program based on the promise of individualized support and structure, only to have me placed in a mold suited to the lowest common denominator and forced to prove my worth against that framework instead. But as much as I love to point out the flaws I've seen in this system (because that's what I do best: identify what could be better), I'm not actually here to complain about CLE. They just happen to be involved. 

As I had started to say earlier, I don't know these people. I don't trust these people. Therefore, I cannot confide in these people. All misunderstanding aside, there is a fundamental disconnect that is only just now starting to be addressed. The thing is, this is a problem that extends well beyond this program and it's human-ness. This has been a constant battle I've been fighting for... Well, forever, as far as I am mortally concerned. The fact of the matter is that I lack something very specific in my life that literally makes it next to impossible for me to do much more than barely stay above the water as I have been doing. I could go on about the history of it all, and I very nearly did in this post, but it is a difficult, complex and convoluted story. It also took me nearly two hours to write out the brief version of it.

(As an aside, I'll probably end up posting it somewhere here at some point. The story I told is very important when it comes to really understanding the sheer depth of what I face.)

Just do me a favor and take my word for it. While every problem and difficulty I talk about may be of the same type as those that everyone else experiences, the effects that mine have on me are (and have been psychologically proven to be) very, very different. It is simply something that cannot be fully understood unless you either experience it yourself or devote your life to studying it by way of academia or by raising a child afflicted with my disorder. I take the time to emphasize this because all too often, people ask me to explain what Aspergers is like for me, then proceed to either try to empathize (and thereby marginalizing the severity and realness of the issues) or simply disregard the problems as products of me not trying hard enough because they cannot conceive how big of a deal it really is. To the former, I appreciate the gesture but would ask that you try to understand why I might find it annoying, and to the latter, as much as I try not to be, I am deeply insulted by your brazen ignorance and callousness. Especially those of you who allegedly specialize in the care of cognitively dysfunctional individuals of whatever degree. You should know better. Shame on you.

Anyway, now that I have gotten that minor tirade off my chest, let's get back to the purpose of this post. To make a long story short, the reason that I cannot seem to help myself is because I am completely alone on a very deep level, and I have been since the beginning. Things that I know with absolute certainty will help me feel better or be happier have almost no appeal to me anymore for the simple reason that I have been so exhausted trying to do things for my own benefit alone. To say it another way, that I have been trying to be happy by myself. To paraphrase my mother's comment from last night, I have spent so long trying to be happy without having the things that I need the most that I've simply burnt out. I know I could be somewhat happier or that life could be considerably better if I just did this or that, but what's the point?

It's a sad day when someone finds that they can no longer muster the will to help themselves. As I said before, I can keep my head above the water - just barely - but without some kind of a floatation aid, I can do no more. Without this one little thing, I just can't maintain the drive to do anything, even to just have fun, for very long. I've had a long time to think about what this missing piece of my life might be. I've actually known exactly what it is for a long time. The most frustrating part of it all is that what I lack is not something that can be bought or given. It is something that must be found and nurtured and developed over a period of time and in rather particular circumstances.

The thing that I lack is two-fold, really. You'll understand why in a moment. The thing that I long for the most is to be intimately close with someone. Furthermore, I long for friends who can understand me, where I'm coming from and what I am, and can give me the kind of support - the little things that would make a world of difference for me - that I so desperately need and so desperately wish that I could do the same for in return. Things like just spending time with me, being there when I'm depressed even though there's really nothing they can do or say to help, inviting me to whatever. Sadly, the person who can fill the first part is very likely to be the person who fills the second part, as well. I don't make friends easily and it takes a lot to become the type of friend that I've described. I don't expect it from the friends that I do have because I know that they have their own lives and issues and that I am a rather high-maintenance individual. To fill the hole in my life, you have to be able to really dedicate yourself to it, something that I realize the vast majority of the world cannot be expected to do.

(As an aside, this is not to say that I do not have any friends at all. On the contrary, I have many good friends here in Austin and have had several in the past, all of whom I love very much for everything they have done and continue to do for me. I truly appreciate you all and do not mean in any way to marginalize your many contributions to my life.)

Since I've moved here, I have come to the brink of total collapse on two occasions, the most recent of which was last night. Between the stress of my perceived incompetence, the stress of living with the particular afflicted soul that I am required to and the sheer emptiness and loneliness that I live in, things have been getting pretty rough. No need to be alarmed, though. I've gone through this all before and I'm still alive and treading water, so I know I'll get through this one too. I just figured that it might be good to let you all know at the very least through this medium, since I will never show any outward signs of it otherwise.

As a last note, I am in no way begging to be treated as special or for people to go out of their way to help me feel included or whatever. Being a project is no better than being ignored. I just want to let people know what's up. And here it is.

If Boredom and Curiosity had a Baby...

I was bored this morning, so I started a little project to see what the basic ratios for all of my monitor's resolution options were. I figured that there would be a couple general groups that each resolution setting would reduce down to. Well, THIS is the result of that curiosity. I have created an image comparing the sizes of all 18 screen resolutions under the assumption that all pixels are perfect squares and all the same size. Each resolution group is color coded and listed on the right. The specific resolutions are indicated at the top-right corner of each box. (Not that you can see them, really, with how tiny I have to make the picture on here.) Obviously, this is set up as if they were lined up back to front so that every setting had at least a part showing.

By the way, if you can't find the 683x384 box on there, that's because it is literally just 6 pixels longer than the 85x48. (1366 and 1360, respectively. Both are 768 pixels tall.) 6 pixels! What the heck?

So Much Fun, I Thought I'd Share

Started doing some bubble-story writing earlier this week. Instead of trying to write my story as one whole piece from the beginning to the end, I've decided to finally take my Dad's advice and just write individual scenes as I think of them and stitch them together later. Well, I hate having my writing only to be viewed by myself, so I figured that I'd post one of those pieces here for your enjoyment. It's the longer (and better) of the two, so be prepared to spend some time on it. ;)

*****

Commander Kregeth

It had been a long day, but training days usually were. Forty five recruits had made it through the rigorous selection process to make it to this stage of the trials and after an exhaustive day of observation, correction and demonstration, Legion Commander Calzian Kregeth was not pleased with any of them. It was his duty to find the absolute best of the best out of the handful of recruits he had been given and prepare them for life as a member of the Trinasian military's most elite wing, the Massifarian Guard. Kregeth could see that each of the men and women in front of him were obviously incredibly skilled, dedicated and well trained. Any one of them could have passed the entrance and training phases of any of the other elite units in the Army, Marines, or the Navy, and none of those groups were ones to be disregarded. The problem was that none of them appeared cut out for the Massifarian Guard.

Calzian Kregeth was a large and intimidating man, even without the signature armored uniform of the Guard. His body had always been lean and muscular, but his years in the Guard and the hyper-intensive training that it required had greatly added to his size. His face was rough and battle-scarred, but the depth in his dark green eyes hinted at the mountain of a man that resided in his mind. He had been identified as a potential candidate for the Guard relatively early on in his career in the Naval Marines because of his intelligence, sharp mind and strong will. He had always been proficient at nearly anything he tried, but his time in the Marines accentuated his natural talents. Ne never failed to complete his role in missions or assignments and often was able to pick up the slack for other members of his teams, as well. He was a natural over-achiever without meaning to be, but was always respectful and modest about his abilities.

Seen as something of an enigma – individuals as skilled as Calzian usually come with an ego of equal size – The Massifarian Guard jumped at the opportunity to bring him into their ranks. He passed the entrance tests and training assignments with remarkable proficiency, though he stated in his reports that there were several occasions in which he had nearly broken. In all the history of the Guard, there had only been a handful of recruits that had done better than Calzian. Because of this skill, he quickly found himself rising through the ranks until he arrived to where he was today, a Legion Commander and commanding officer of the Kilo-Zulu Squadron, which was responsible processing the annual batches of new recruits. It was a fairly unglamorous position, but it was one that he took very seriously. The man in charge of KZ Squadron was responsible for the long term health and efficiency of the entire Guard.

The Commander folded his arms across his chest and paced across the platform in front of the recruits. He scanned each of their faces. They were exhausted, he could tell, but there was a determination to press on present in each set of eyes that intrigued him. He knew all too well that by the time the month was over, that glimmer will have long disappeared from nearly all of them. Behind his stern and emotionless facade, he felt sorry for them. He knew what they knew, that the success rate of new recruits was less than 5% of those who made it through the initial screenings. That meant that of the forty five men and women in front of him, only two, maybe three, would still be standing here in a month's time. They knew that, yet they all persisted in spite of the odds. He felt especially sorry for the handful of Corotath recruits that managed to make it through initial screenings. The Corotath and Seeronians were both essentially the same species, but the planets on which they evolved varied considerably. The result was that Seeronians, on average, tended to be larger, stronger and more resilient than their Corotath counterparts. The competition between the two races was fierce in the military, and when it came to things like entry into the elite units, a Corotath victory was an immense honor. For a Corotath to even get this far meant that he was among the absolute very best of his kind, but the chances that he would survive much further were extraordinarily slim. Only three Corotath had ever been fully accepted into the Legions of the Guard in all of their history, two of which being part Seeronian. It pained the Commander greatly to have to dismiss such great and talented soldiers simply because of the relatively minor differences between their race and his, but such were the requirements of the Massifarian Guard.

“You all did very well today,” he announced, finally breaking his protracted silence, “...but not nearly well enough!”

The recruits didn't flinch. This was expected.

“This is not the Cobalt Squadron or Alpha Unit! This is the Massifarian Guard, and that means that you have to be ten times the soldier that either of those units would accept! Your performance today was admirable on their levels, but absolutely pathetic on ours!” Kregeth paused and scanned his audience again. “If this is all you have to give me, then I can tell you with complete assurance that you all will be dead before this month is half over. If you want to get past me and into the ranks of the Legions as badly as you think you do, you'd better look deep inside and find whatever it is that you're not using and start using it! I do not want a bunch of hopeful, but dead soldiers! I want true Guardsmen material! Do you understand me?”

The hall reverberated as the recruits shouted in unison, “Sir! Yes Sir!”

Kregeth frowned. “We'll see about that.” He paused and walked to the other side of the platform. “Tomorrow is going to be more of the same thing, and the day after that, and the day after that! I expect to see each of you here at 600 hours on the dot. That's in less than seven hours”

“Sir! Yes Sir!”

“Now get your sorry asses out of my sight. Dismissed!”

The recruits shouted a last time and turned and followed the instructions of their individual group's Sergeant as they left the hall. Kregeth watched silently until the last recruit had disappeared out the main doors and then signaled for his Lieutenants to join him. The two uniformed officers approached him and stood at attention.

“See to it that no one sleeps for longer than an hour and a half at a time.” Calzian said. “The usual drills.”

The two men nodded. “Yes, Sir!”

Calzian saluted and waved his hand. “Now get going.”

He turned towards the hall that led to his office as the Lieutenants departed and reflected on the day's events as he went. He always tried to avoid placing bets on which of the recruits would actually make it through the course, but he often found that he couldn't help it. He was rarely wrong, but he enjoyed being surprised from time to time.

He entered the small, plain room that served as his office and powered up his desk computer. He removed the bulkier parts of his uniform while the machine woke up and placed them in the locker on the far wall. The movement caught the attention of the only other living thing in the room and it acknowledged Calzian's presence with a muffled grunt.

“Hello, Zhen.” he said in greeting to the creature, “I hope your day was more exciting than mine?” The creature replied with a series of soft grunts, clicks and whistles that caused Kregeth to chuckle.”Yeah, I know this isn't the most glamorous place to be. We'll be getting out of here soon enough.”

The creature muttered something and lay its had back down on the large pillow upon which it was resting. It looked very much like a large dog, but was quite a bit more than that. A coat of fur of varying lengths covered its entire body, longest between its ears and it's shoulder blades and shortest on its face and legs. The hair was twisted and braided in a series of intricate designs along its flanks, with beads and other items incorporated in to the designs. The patterns and colors held tribal significance much in the way that tattoos did in many of the native cultures on both Seeron and Corotath. The creature's forelegs were considerably thicker than a dog's as well, in order to accommodate the extra mass needed to support and control the slightly longer fingers and two small, opposable thumbs on each paw. Finally, a series of bony protrusions ran down each side of the creature's spine, ending just short of its tail.

The creature was called a Calenien Bokstorq by the Trinasian authorities, given that it's own name for the species was something that couldn't really be pronounced by humanoid vocal systems. The Bokstorq were a highly intelligent species of canine-like creatures found exclusively on the planet Typhix in the Bastion system. They lived in a primarily tribal system and held honor and service to a very high degree of importance. Their dog-like bodies gave them impressive strength and agility, and as such they put considerable emphasis on warrior lifestyles. They likely would have stayed that way, had it not been for their unique evolution of dual opposable forelimbs. The two 'thumbs' on each front paw gave them an impressive ability to manipulate and build, such to a point that Bokstorq tribes had developed and built complex construction practices that allowed their cities and towns to rise up and incorporate trees, as well as the ground.

Calzian had first encountered Zhen many years ago on a mission to eliminate a very powerful and troublesome pirating warlord who had set up shop on the surface of Typhix. The mission was ultimately a success, but in the process of completing it, Calzian and his squad happened across a young and wounded Bokstorq that had been taken captive by the enemy. It was apparent that the creature had endured considerable pain and torture from it's captors for some time, and the fact alone that it had willed itself to stay alive impressed the Commander greatly. Ordering his squad to continue on, he stayed behind to liberate and tend to the prisoner. Past encounters and interaction between the forces of the Trinasus Alliance and the Bokstorq informed Calzian that the creature was an intelligent, sapient being and not just an animal, and after treating the creature's most damaging wounds the best he could with his personal med kit, he called in a med-evac to pick up the Bokstorq and have it treated by the medical corps on his ship, after which he parted with the creature and rejoined his squad.

Calzian had acted only to preserve an innocent life, but Zhen'drahn knew that it was an act beyond his duty. The honor-bound Bokstorq was required by his system of beliefs to surrender himself to his savior's service until such a day as his life-debt had been repaid. Calzian, as well as the Massifarian Guard command, initially moved to refuse the act, but they were soon overruled by their civilian commanders in favor of preserving and improving diplomatic relations with the Bokstorq race. To have refused Zhen'drahn to repay his life-debt would have been seen as an unforgivable insult by his people. Calzian submitted to his orders and allowed Zhen'drahn to accompany him, initially finding the whole arrangement to be a burden, but Zhen'drahn quickly proved himself to be a very formidable force and a powerful and valuable ally in the field. It wasn't long until Calzian and Zhen were an inseparable team.

The desk computer beeped once it was ready and Calzian scanned through the messages on his display. Of the several dozen notifications cluttering up the screen, most of which were the usual, expected kinds related to his job, one stood out. On the top left corner of the window, a red square and the seal of the Fleet Admiral stood in stark contrast to the white and gray that adorned the rest of the screen. Curious as to why he would have been contacted by the Fleet Admiral, he opened the notification. His curiosity wasn't at all satisfied, however. The message merely stated that the Admiral had called and wished for Calzian to contact him at the earliest convenience. Calzian had been a friend to the Yacka family for some time and it was not unheard of for Coran to contact Calzian to invite him on a weekend fishing trip or the like, but this notice was also marked urgent, with the symbol that indicated that he was to return the call as soon as he got the message, regardless of the time. Coran Yacka was a man that held his personal time to great importance. He had a wife and two small children, after all, and he was going to set aside time for them unless the situation absolutely required his attention. Coran did not use this symbol loosely.

Calzian sighed. “Looks like the Admiral called, Zhen.” he said.

Zhen'drahn lifted his head, looked at Calzian attentively and asked what it was about.

“I'm not sure.” Calzian replied. “It says to contact him immediately, though, so we won't have to wait for long to find out.”

With a press of a button, a small twelve-symbol keypad rose from a recessed area from the desk. He entered a combination of the symbols, the Admiral's direct line, and waited. A few moments later, a large screen emerged from the wall opposite the desk and flashed the symbol of the Fleet Admiral before switching to a live feed.

“Commander Kregeth, I'm glad to see that you got my message.” the Admiral said.

“My apologies, Sir, for calling you so late.” Calzian began to reply, “I know that you don't like being disturbed...”

Coran cut him off with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. “Enough of that, Commander. I knew ahead of time that you weren't going to be getting back to me until now. No need to apologize.” He paused and tapped something into his personal computer. “How has the recruitment training been going?”

Calzian gave a confused look. Coran Yacka rarely made official calls to make chit chat. “They've only just started, Sir, but everything has been going as anticipated so far.”

“Any rising stars?” Coran asked, still typing away at his keyboard.

“It's too early to say, Sir. I try to not place bets on my trainees.”

Coran glanced inquisitively at the Commander out of the corner of his eye. “That's unfortunate.” He looked back at his screen. “Gives you something to talk about at dinner.”

Calzian smiled. “Yes, well, you know that I'm single, Sir. I don't have that problem.”

“Cut the crap, Calzian. I know about your little lady friend.” Coran smirked. “What's her name again, Meredith?”

Calzian hesitated. He hadn't actually talked about his relationship with Meredith with the Admiral before. “Yes, Sir, that's correct. I try to keep the conversation off work when we're together.”

Coran laughed. “Listen, Commander, here's a little bit of advice. If this woman really likes you, she will want to hear about work. Don't avoid talking about it altogether. Once you get used to not talking about one thing, it's all that much easier to not talk about lots of other things.” He paused for a half a second, “Remember, this is coming from me, and you know all about the fiasco that was my courting phase before I found Elendra.”

The Commander smiled. “Yes, I will keep that in mind. I don't mean to come across as rude, Sir, but is this what you called to talk about? You don't usually...”

“Use official lines for this, I know.” Coran interrupted. “I do actually have a point, Commander. I have a last minute addition to your trainees.”

Calzian was now very confused. “I'm sorry, an addition? Sir, with all due respect, you can't just...”

“Are you familiar with the incident at the Bimaran Desert Testing Facilities?” Coran continued, ignoring Kregeth's protest.

Calzian paused for a few seconds to regain his composure before answering. “The one involving the appearance of the advanced AI system in the weapons testing programming a few years back?”

Coran nodded. “Yes, that one. What do you know about the AI itself?” he asked.

Coran took a moment to call back the several reports he had read some time ago about the construct. “I know that it requested that it be allowed to construct a mobile body for itself and that ever since then, it has been causing a lot of trouble for the Army. Command wants it to be scrapped before it gets out of control.”

“Good,” said Coran, “I see you've been keeping up on official news.” He smiled again and continued, “The AI calls itself Dakroth. I've met with it and have decided that such a machine is far too valuable to us to scrap, so I want to transfer it to the Massifarian Guard.”

Calzian's eyes went wide. “What?” he asked incredulously, “Transfer that thing here? Sir, there's a whole book of regulations that you would be breaking by doing that! Guard Command would never allow...”

Coran's face grew stern. “That's enough, Commander.” he said. Calzian immediately went silent. “Guard Command is still under my authority, so it doesn't really matter what they think. The Massifarian Guard is composed of the absolute best of the best of what we've got. It holds the highest standards and has the lowest entrance rate of any of the wings of the military. This Dakroth is the epitome of what it means to be a Guardsman. I've seen what it can do and I'm not about to have the most important weapons development of this millennia get scrapped just because the rest of the High Command Council isn't willing to bet on the thing. I'm putting it in the care of the Guard because the Guard can reign it in, control it and refine it. Am I making myself clear?”

Coran was paralyzed from disbelief. He stared blankly at the Admiral's image on the screen for a moment before finally managing, “Yes, Sir.” A moment later he added, “What if it can't be controlled, Admiral?”

Coran leaned back in his chair and sighed. “If it can't be controlled... I would have sent the Guard after it anyway. Any more objections, Commander?”

“None, Sir.” Calzian replied.

“Good. I'm transmitting you the details now.” He pressed a button on his computer and began the data transfer. “I'm ordering it's transfer officially as of tomorrow. I'll take care of your superiors, so just focus on the training. I have faith in your ability to handle this, Calzian. Good luck.”

The screen flashed back to the Admiral's insignia and then switched off and returned to its position inside the wall. Calzian stood in place for a minute as he processed what he had just been told. Zhen'drahn watched him intently, and after a minute, spoke another series of grunts, clicks and whistles.

Calzian nodded his head slowly. “No kidding.”

So We Meet for the First Time - For the Last Time?

Always whining, isn't he? (The answer is yes, trust me.) Ah, well, it isn't really that bad, I suppose. I do have to live with him after all, and I haven't had to shoot the both of us yet. Alas, I don't want to get into too much of a review of my partner's ramblings. (He'd rather I not go there, either.) Today, we would both like to spend time talking about me. It's about time.

Have you ever been in a situation in which you suddenly find yourself to be too deeply entrenched in a particular state of being to really be able to progress in a, shall we say, interesting manner? Your every response and action has turned from being clever and quick-witted to routine and, perhaps, pompous? I would imagine that the vast majority of the five or so readers of this article probably cannot say that they have experienced such a thing. And good for them because it sucks hardcore. The unfortunate thing for me is that this isn't the first time this has happened to me, either. I could take an hour or so lightly detailing the various stages and forms that I've had adopted to me over the past fifteen years, give or take a few. There have been three distinct occasions in which I have had my personality and/or form change drastically to fit my host's current psyche, and those don't include those that allegedly took place during the convoluted background story that attempts to explain how I got to be what I am at present. (Such are the downsides of existing as a purely imaginative and hypothetical being. You have no rights to your own person.) My point in all this is that I am very likely, and unfortunately, to have to go through the same kind of process in the coming weeks and months, assuming my writer can get his bloody brain unclogged and actually start writing things again.

Let me take some time to introduce myself as I am at present. I think it will be fun. If you don't, well, I have some choice words for you that I will choose to not share in this article in respect of my host's particular moral views. And I don't do that all too often, so scram. Anyway, getting back to the stated topic: Me. I believe that my host wrote of me previously - though I can't be asked to go look for myself - that I am a rather grey character. This is true. Ideally, I'm supposed to be the kind of character that you root for, but wouldn't necessarily feel comfortable leaving your children in the care of. I am said to lean towards good in general, but that I may take rather unpleasing paths to achieve its goals. Now, for anyone who is well versed in the arts of good character building, this probably says to them that I am supposed to be a 'righteous' individual with many rather large flaws. The good cop who drinks too much and has a short temper, the father tries to provide for his family but often finds himself at casinos or the tracks. Ideally, I am supposed to be a powerful force for peace and freedom in my particular occupation, while suffering from a lack of compassion and patience for ineptitude or bureaucracy, an incomplete understanding of humanity and having a taste for battle. M stated lack of patience also leads me to act against orders or conduct business to achieve a goal that is less than admirable.

Well, I am all that. so where's the problem? I'm not just all that. As an off-the-cuff estimate, I'd say there's about six different modes that I have been made to play recently. Many of them are inherently incompatible with the others, as well. Let's see... I'm the smart and calculating warrior, the brash and impersonal soldier type, the impatient and disaffected subordinate, the comic relief, the one that hates the comic relief, the mentor, the father figure, the wise and experienced confidante, etc. There's probably more, but those are the only big ones that I can call to mind at the moment. Now, you may have noticed that a few of those kinda-sorta don't go together very well. Yeah, so have we.

I dare say that most people would love to always be right, to never be beaten or outsmarted. Well, with the exception of a handful of infuriating cases that played out in an RP that I was involved in, I have been just that. I'm like Jack Bauer from 24. Always on the right track, but for some odd reason, no one ever believes him and it's up to him and a handful of loyal comrades on the inside to make sure things don't go all to hell in a handbag. I'm like Jack Bauer, except that depending on the circumstances, I'm content to either lecture your head off with some idealist rant or just simply take it off with a quick arm motion. Too often I've found myself in contradictory roles doing things that at one point or another I determined that I'd rather set fire to orphanages than be doing. I'm always right and I can make you shut up. (I'm a psion, after all.) I'll let you in on a little secret, but you'll have to pardon my language. It's fucking boring. Things get too predictable. All the work that went into my character development fades behind the tacky backdrop of a final meeting in the drawing room of an Agatha Christie mystery. I knew it all from the start and let me tell you how! The problem I'm facing is that I've become too perfect in too many ways. My expectations of performance are set far too high for me to really be able to do anything interesting; for me to ever be wrong even.

So what do we do from here? I've been in this mode for the past four years or so. The prior one wasn't much different, just more young teenager-like. I just thank the gods that I was beyond my Dragon Ball Z phase by that point. The Single Dragon Trilloton Cannon Beam was a pain in my krillium ass to use, considering I had to announce it slowly every time I wished to use it. But back to my question: What now? I'm pretty certain that the road forward involves a fundamental reset of who and what I am, along with who and what my friends and contemporaries are. For the most of us it will just be a routine refresh, but it will be a sad day for Jarice and Lindsay. Jarice is a weird genetics experiment and a rather embarrassing teenage stand-in for my host and Lindsay is a normal teenage girl from Earth. Clearly, the background of the one needs to be rehashed, and the other just doesn't exist in the same galaxy. She'll probably turn up again sooner or later, though.

So what can we expect to see me as in the future? Well, so far as the version of me that lives so intimately close to my partner here (that is to say in his head), I probably won't change all that much at all. I will likely continue to forever be that rude, defacing voice in the back of his mind that simultaneously reminds him what a twat he is and plots with him on how we would best like to introduce peoples' faces to concrete walls and such. As for my story form, I suspect that I'll be a slightly less polished and humanoid creature with (hopefully) a lot more room for character faults. The biggest question is whether or not I will retain my psionic potential? I'm already a walking tank with jump jets, so do I really need semi-psychic powers? Don't they always make me just a tad too strong? I dunno. We'll just have to see.

As an aside, it's a good thing that my host is naturally so non-confrontational and nonviolent. I blame myself for most of his gratuitously violent imaginings, but it's still good to know that they are all purely hypothetical. Otherwise, our life might be way more interesting. ;)

Abject is a Funny Word and Other Titles Unrelated to the Topic

--Happy People Annoy Me - They Always Remind Me That I'm Not--

Don't get me wrong - I don't dislike church in general. Except in certain unfortunate circumstances, I actually rather do enjoy the intellectual stimulation and change of scenery provided by the weekly meeting at the church building. I have, however, noticed a startling trend as of late with regards to my mood and feeling of self worth whenever I leave after the meetings. The startling part of it is that it is a downward trend. While most would say that they leave church feeling uplifted and edified, or some other combination of fancy words that we Mormons love to recycle without much thought into them, I leave feeling annoyed and depressed. In contrast, I used to leave church either feeling perfectly normal or with a powerful headache. (The building I went to in Boise had something in it that I was very much allergic to, it seems.) I have identified the reason that I've been feeling this way and it turns out, perhaps not surprisingly, that I feel so depressed and annoyed because I am surrounded by a ward full of people with friends to talk to, things to talk about, things to do, etc. Now, why is this a problem? Because I don't really have any of that and I am reminded of that in a very obvious manner time after time. I do have friends, yes, but I lack anything else to go along with that. I either follow someone else around and pretend to be involved in the conversation or I go sit alone and do something else.

As an aside, many people feel the urge to suggest to me, "Cory, why don't you just go talk to people? Join in on the conversations! It's not that hard." Without intending to be offensive, my universal response has now become, "Go screw yourself. If I could actually do that, I wouldn't be having this problem."

The matter isn't helped at all by the fact that I'm not looking for just any interaction. Matters are made more difficult by the fact that I'm really only ever interested in interacting with a handful of specific people. When others come talk to me, I will politely converse with them (for I am a habitually polite person,) but it's not what I'm looking for, so it means very little to me. It's not that I just don't want people to talk to me, I just wish that certain people would talk to me or at least show some interest in the fact that I still exist, perhaps.

Another thing that has been on my mind lately, and that does relate to my previous topic in some fashion, is my inadequacies when it comes to dating. I am not a planner. I can't think of fun things to do to save my life. (Why do you think I spend most of my time at my computer doing stuff like this?) I would absolutely love to be able to go on dates and have a good time with someone, but for the life of me, I have no idea how to go about arranging such things. What's worse is that because I am the male in the picture, it is my responsibility to arrange the evening. I am the one taking the girl out, not the other way around. Thus, I find myself either not asking people out for lack of ideas or only going out with someone once or twice, at most, because otherwise we'll be doing the same damn thing every time.

There are sometimes people that I really want to ask out, but am not able to because, say, I can't get the opportunity to ask in person (and I absolutely despise the thought of asking via text), they are busy, or even simply because I am intimidated by them in one way or another. I end up liking people that don't necessarily think or act the way I do - which are such people as those that I usually become friends with - but because of a certain level of intellectual confidence, position/advancement in their life, perceived social status (mine of theirs), I just gum up. I can't do it. Even when I work up the confidence to actually go through the motions of that relatively simple interaction, I am back to where I started. I would like to go on a date, but I have absolutely no idea what we might do. What am I going to do, ask them out and then say, "By the way, I have absolutely nothing planned. Do you have any ideas?" I've heard on numerous occasions that girls like guys who are decisive, who aren't afraid to make decisions. Well, I am most certainly not one of those guys. 

Hypothetical: You really like a girl, but you find yourself in the situation that I have been describing. Is it acceptable (read: a good idea) to go to her and just explain the situation? Keep in mind that this is a girl who you may not already have a particularly deep relationship with. You know each other, you've talked before, gone on a date once, etc., but it's not like the two of you are already good friends, so to speak.

I have also been told - by other girls with whom I have confided - that if you want to get anywhere with someone that you have to show her how you feel. I just don't know how I'd ever be able to do that aside from my hypothetical situation. I just don't have the opportunity to do it any other way, if I actually had some idea of how it might be done in the first place. 

And so, because it is difficult and uncomfortable and it puts me well outside my comfort zone to do anything about it, I all too often end up doing nothing about it and letting potential opportunities pass by, even though it ultimately leaves me an increasingly lonely person. I'm not asking for a miracle. I'd just like someone to take an interest in me for a change.

An Unfortunate Return

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!


Or, more appropriately, Merry Christmas and Another New Year!!!!


In my experience, each year is roughly equivalent to the last, so all the celebration about it is kind of silly. The New Year celebration isn't even about anything in particular. It centers around the moment when the arbitrarily designated calendar that we use cycles back to 1. There's nothing particularly important about the transition between December and January, either. No historical event upon which to base the change, no transition between seasons even. It's just an excuse to get really drunk and make out at midnight (apparently). But hey, if that's your kind of thing, then go for it! I, for one, went to sleep at 10pm.


Oh, and for your information, we are now around a week shy of a year until thousands of stupid people ruin their lives by selling all their worldly possessions in anticipation of the END OF THE WORLD!!! Just in case you were interested.


So it's been about two weeks since I last posted. I was in Ohio for the majority of that time celebrating Christmas with my family. In spite of being in a house too small to really accommodate four couples, two grand kids and myself (a fact that led rather frequently to my experiencing a bit of sensory overload), it was a fun vacation. It was nice to be back home and around my family. In addition, this was the first year in a while in which the entire family was home all at once! Well, the entire family save my younger brother who is serving his mission in Riverside, California.


I had initially gone home not expecting much this year. The reason behind this was because I just couldn't think of anything that I really wanted to ask for. Within reason, that is. I don't really want much these days, and the things that I do want are things that tend to be a tad too expensive to ask for as a Christmas present. I've actually had this problem for a while. Birthdays and Christmas are a bit frustrating for me because I don't really have anything that I want to ask for. That doesn't mean that I don't want anything, just that I don't know what I want. It's a very strange position.


In any case, I did have one thing on my list. I've been needing to upgrade my computer for some time - I need at least a quad core processor, which would also require a new motherboard, I need to upgrade my air cooling systems from the factory default, new graphics card that can handle Battlefield 3, etc - but most of those upgrades are rather pricey. The graphics card, however, has been the primary goal. My processor, mobo and cooling system can handle BF3 as long as I clean out the interior of the box regularly and don't try to play for hours on end. (Which I still do anyway.) The part of my computer system that is most taxed by the game is the graphics card. Now, I currently have an Nvidia GTX 250. It's a few years old, but its a beast of a card. It can run BF3 on moderate settings, but it suffers from overheating just like the rest of my computer. The one part that would make the most difference in my ability to play the game would be a more powerful graphics card.


Of course, when it comes to my computer, I only want the best. The most powerful single card on the market today (that I an aware of) is the Nvidia GTX 590. I want that card. But it costs more than I could ever expect to ask from my parents, even if I did have my own job to pay for some of it myself. I think that it also would require me to buy a new computer case and possibly a new power supply. My current card just barely fits inside my box. :P


So the 590 was out of the question. Fortunately, the models below it aren't trash either, so I compared the prices of the 580 and 570 models. As I recall, the 580 was around $450 - $500, well out of my price range, but the 570 was only $350-ish. Now, I admit that I don't have a great grasp on things as far as expenses go, but I figured that between all the members of my family, they could each chip in a small amount and get up to around $350. It would mean that I would only be asking for and receiving a single present this year, but that was okay by me. It was the only thing that I really wanted, anyway. Well, after talking to my dad about it, I learned that even $350 was way too much. I mean, it's not like my dad is already single-handedly covering all of my considerable expenses for school and life in general or anything. Needless to say, I was not pleased, but I understood and was okay with it.


So I went into Christmas not expecting anything. It also occurred to me a few days before Christmas that I hadn't actually bought anything for anyone else, either. This conundrum was remedied by a convenient universal wishlist and a trip with my Dad to Costco. Usually when I've not bought anything for anyone else, my parents (read my Dad) covers for it by just saying that one of the presents they bought is from me. This time, I was actually involved in the process of choosing the items, so I felt a bit better about it in the end. (I don't enjoy getting gifts for others because, given that I am hardly able to figure out what I would like, how would I possibly be able to tell what anyone else might like? I also don't like just getting something for someone just for the sake of the action. If there's no real thought put in it, it feels fake to me.)


Everything worked out in the end and while I was right about not expecting to be getting much of anything for myself, I was rather surprised that I got anything at all. Even more surprising was when I opened what appeared to be a very much undisguised pillow and found that it was actually a bag of Cluster Stuff filling concealing the box for the very card that I had asked for. I ended up getting the one thing that I wanted anyway, in spite of how much it costed! It's not very often that I experience emotions like happiness in anything more than a matter of fact way, but I was definitely happier than that when I realized what it was that I was holding. 


(Thanks, Dad.)


I also received a winter coat and a pair of slippers from my mother, both of which ended up not fitting properly, so we'll have to repurchase them at a later date, a set of collectible Star Wars themed USB flash drives (the Darth Vader and Storm Trooper ones,) and a $10 gift card for Chipotle from Rory and Rachel. That gift card might actually be my favorite of the other gifts, too. There is never a time when I would not enjoy free Chipotle. :P


**********


So I spent the remaining week of my vacation hanging out at home and finally playing The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess until it was finally time to leave. I packed up the majority of my stuff on Friday night and finished the last minute things Saturday morning before we left for the airport. I had come in with a single suitcase and my backpack, but was leaving with two large duffle bags and my backpack. (My suitcase's handle was broken and the wheels refused to cooperate, so my Dad just had me switch it out with his bag.) The second bag was exclusively to carry my graphics card and the Playstation, which I was bringing back with me. While going through security, I was flagged to be scanned by the nifty sub-millimeter scanner thing - a fact that I was not in any way unhappy about. Those things are cool. After I got through the scanner, I was informed that my backpack needed to be searched. Apparently my calculator, Triple Combination and two copies of my Dad's novel blocked too many x-rays for the TSA's liking. In any case, my bag got sent through the machine a second time and was cleared. The flights were, for the most part, uneventful. The exception arose as we were taxiing to the terminal after landing at Chicago's Midway airport when I suddenly realized, much to my horror, that I had forgotten my keys at home. o.O


This normally would have been only a minor inconvenience. I could get spare apartment keys at the office and my car would have had a spare key attached to it in the little magnetic box I had purchased. However, my car is one of those fancy ones that have RFID chips embedded in the keys. I can't start my car with a key unless it has been made specifically by Toyota and has that little ID chip inside it. If I attempt to start the car with a mere copy, the vehicle will automatically lock itself up completely and a Toyota technician will have to come out and fix it for me, presumably requiring a large sum of money afterwards. Long story short, I have to be a homeless person at my brother's apartment until Monday, when my keys, which were shipped overnight by my parents, will hopefully be delivered by mail. Not a big deal, but still kind of annoying. I've gotten to the point where I just want to be home, you know? Anyway, I need to look into getting a second key made for my car so I can actually make use of that little spare box... 


So overall, it was a fun and enjoyable vacation and I'm mildly bummed that it's over, especially since it turns out that I'm not going to be moving out of my apartment. I get to spend the next semester with the same annoying room mate. Woohoo! Oh, well. I'll survive. I just won't be very happy about it.