Y2kk Update: There's one thing that always manages to catch me off guard, no matter how many times it happens... no matter how high I keep up my guard, regardless of whether I choose to or not...

When someone finds my website...

My old lab partner from freshman year at university somehow managed to find my noname site early this year sometime, by looking up crap about one of the courses we had taken together on google. And the thing was, when he brought it up to me that he had found my website... instead of saying something - just anything - that was remotely intelligent, I, umm... just scoffed, waved the whole fiasco off, said that everything I wrote was pure crap, autonomously changed the subject, and then walked away pretending like not a single thing had been said or uttered at all... and, umm... yeah, that's technically not how I wanted to handle the situation. And that's not how anyone would ever want to handle a situation...

And the same thing pretty much happened to me the other night... A close friend of mine found my noname site and told me about it the day after he did. And instead of just taking some deep breaths and asking what I really wanted to know (which quite frankly, was what he thought of what I had written), I just wrote the stupidest thing into our MSN Messenger chat window instead... I told him that, once again, everything I wrote was pure crap, and that I really didn't want to talk about my website at all. And, umm...

I guess I never learn my lessons, now do I?

... the thing is, why the hell am I so damn secretive and so damn sensitive about safeguarding a bunch of crappy websites of mine that I literally put all my heart, soul and time into?... so much to the point where the only adjective I have for them is "crappy"... Why do I completely keep them secret, even to my friends, and then write it all off when they finally do discover it on their own? Hell, why do I pretend like I don't want them to find my websites in the first place, when that's really all I ask of them?... it's never really made logical sense to me. My own logic, I mean... but I've known a possible answer to all this for a very long time...

That I, simply put, am goddam afraid of criticism.

So damn afraid of criticism, that the first way I reaction to almost every situation, is to simply pretend like I never cared about the subject at hand in the first place...

And a perfect example of that happened this past Monday.

I mean, I'm still not really sure why this incident has been bugging me so damn much. And yet it has, simply because it came at a time when I least expected it, and least wanted it... Because you see, I had just come out of my final exam of the entire university year. Spring was here, my birthday had past, and half of my university friends were leaving for co-op jobs, leaving me universally guessing whether I'd ever be able to talk to them face to face again for a very long time... And after I had said my goodbyes (and after a couple of good friends fucking left before even saying goodbye...), I headed my way to the video game store that I always buy my games from, to indulge in the materialism that I so often do when depressed. And why do I always waste my money on this one store alone?... I mean, it's there that prices are good, but not always the best. It's there that I always end up buying games that I know I never will like nor need... but to be honest, there's really only one real reason why I choose to keep buying from this one place alone... Because quite frankly, I like the owner. He's nice to me, that's all... Even if I have to spend more of my money on a game, I'd still rather give the money to him than some Wal-Mart corporation that is simply impossible to care for or trust.

But something happened on Monday, something so minor that I really, really, ridiculously doubted whether it would even be download.mycrowsoft.com worthy or not... Because the thing is, for the first time in three years, the game store owner actually snapped at me... I mean, I can sort of relate as to why... I saw a game that I wanted, but not at the price that I wanted. And knowing that the copy he had on show was used and scratched, I was hoping he wouldn't have another copy on hand, so I could use the damage on the disc as an excuse to haggle for a lower price... So I asked him a first time whether he had a second copy of the game or not, and he clearly said no, in a very polite and palatable fashion might I add. The thing is, I still wanted the game - just not a scratched version for a price higher than it was worth, that's all... I didn't want to bother him though, so just when I was about to leave, he came over to me once again and started looking through the shelves behind him. Imagining that perhaps, just perhaps he was double checking whether he had a second copy of the game or not, I asked him again if the copy in my hands was the only copy in the store. And I could've sworn, I really could've sworn, that he said he might had another copy somewhere... And since he was looking through his cabinets, I waited until he was done searching to ask him one final time: "did you find an extra copy of the game"?...

... and, um...

... that's when he sort of snapped...

... kinda out of nowhere...

He started lecturing me on, quite frankly, being a pain in the ass. He claimed he was obviously "busy" (even though there were only a couple of others in the store at the time), yet I was asked him "three times" the same question, which he clearly answered the first time I asked it... He said he didn't have the time nor capacity to put up with my failure to listen, and quite honestly, even though my mistake was not intentional, I did have to agree with him there. My overzealous hope of getting a discount on the game, I guess made me hear and see things that I wanted to see, and nothing more... And I wanted to explain myself to him, until I realized that the store owner surely didn't have the "time" nor capacity to listen to an apology if he wouldn't even put up with three short questions from a longtime buyer. So all I could say was "sorry", and hope that I could get past the whole snapping ordeal to get down to the haggling business at hand...

... and you see, that's what bugging me so damn much...

... I couldn't.

I couldn't get past the criticism. I couldn't see past the lecture... Sure, in the end, I did myself a favour. I saved myself forty bucks by not buying a game that was slightly overpriced and not rare whatsoever. Because quite frankly, when I tried to say something - just anything - after my whimper of an apology, I fucking found that my throat couldn't utter a single damn thing... From just one meaningless moment of attitude from a man who's shown me nothing but patience for three years straight, I was literally so damn engulfed in my own damn sorrow that I couldn't even ask for a fucking discount?... and because I couldn't say anything, I just decided to leave. I mean, I was fucking embarrassed deep throat in my heart! Not just because I got lectured by a man who was supposed to act as if the customer was always right... but also because I was so goddam embarrassed from such a triteful little moment of criticism, that I couldn't even goddam believe it. I honestly couldn't fucking believe that I'm still that damn pathetic and weak. What was I thinking?

What was I thinking to actually feel hurt?... What was I fucking feeling to actually just walk out of there, like a loser with a broken heart?...

... but I guess I am one. A broken record of a broken heart, scratched beyond repair... Just three days after that, the very moment that one of my friends just mentions my website, I freeze up yet again... and almost as if I was ready to curl myself to sleep in the goddam fetal position or some crap like that, I just instinctively ignored my friend and completely changed the subject before I even had a chance to figure out what the hell I was saying...

So honestly, why the fuck am I that damn afraid of criticism? Why the fuck am I that damn sensitive to cynicism? How could I possibly be so damn critical of criticism, that I wouldn't even look the store owner in the eyes, the same damn eyes that have shown me nothing but smiles and rewarding patience for three fucking years straight?... Why couldn't I have told the truth, that I don't think my webpages are pure crap, to that old lab partner of mine who found my noname site this year?... And why the fuck couldn't I have just stopped myself from doing the same damn thing, repeating history, with that close friend of mine that perhaps I should've told my webpage about so long ago?...

Why the fuck am I so damn scared?...

... and, well... because of the events of the past week, something really stuck to me, that thing you do, after flipping to and fro to the Wednesday night airing of American Idol... The bastardly Simon Russell Crowell or whatever his name is, was giving a compliment to the 16 year old boy (who couldn't sing anything but elevator music), that at least he took all the Simonian criticism like a pure gentleman. He just accepted it all with a smile, tried his best to improve, and never ever did lash back. For someone so young, he truly was a man... And dammit, sure it's ironic that he was then voted off the show the very next day. Guess compliments aren't his forte... but still...

I wanted that....

Not the being kicked off of the show part, but of being the man who can take criticism for what it's worth... Honestly, no matter how hard I fucking try, why the hell do I always keep myself censored? Why the hell do I always keep myself safe and sensitized?... It's because of this same damn reason that I'm afraid of the Design Project I'll have to do next year in university. It's because of this same damn reason that I'm terrified of ever getting a goddam interview for a job... I mean, I logically know that just talking to a damn corporate rep would have no lasting effect on my permanant record or rep. But honestly! I'm just so fucking retardedly terrified of being metaphorically, melancholically spit on in my goddam face, that I'm even willing to incur the safe spit shootings of my goddam parents for always going home empty handed...

I mean, why the fuck would I become so damn wretchedly morbid, from just ten fucking seconds of a lecture from a man who's only shown me kindness before this day?

I didn't even care whether he was right or wrong... I didn't even mind whether I was right or wrong... all I could think about, was that somebody was not happy with me. That somebody out there was disapproving of me... and somehow, that fucking goddam feeling froze every single bone in my body except those in my goddam legs that walked right on out of there... I ran like a chicken with the goddam bird flu... And because of that, I expect future consequences whenever I try buying from the same man again. Not because I don't trust him... but because goddammit, I simply can't trust me.

... and, well...

... after realizing this all, I started talking to my friend the next day about my website, finally asking him the questions that I wanted to know the night before, like what he thought of a certain article that he read. But he wasn't biting this time around - either I had scarred him, or he simply wasn't interested in my website anymore, I'll never know... All I know, is that after I asked him, before I felt a rush of disappointment at an opportunity long lost and forever young...

... before all that... I sadly felt relief...

I guess I never do learn my lessons, now do I?...

... because goddammit, it always sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it?...

ATI: Well, not much news on the computing front, actually. Saw over at Rage3d though that Avault Hardware has a comparison up between Abit's 9800XT and the Sapphire Ultimate 9800XT. Go ahead and indulge yourself in fantasies of unstoppable juggernauts of video cards at: http://www.avault.com/hardware/getreview.asp?review=9800xtru.

Y2kk Update: Goddammit, I almost peed in my pants.

Good thing I didn't shit in them again, or that really would've been embarrassing...

I never really expected for it to hit me so damn hard. Like a Mac Truck, full of Big Macs... I mean, before today's exam, I had already had four of my bloody hell exams this term. I studied no more than about two to three hours for each of them out of sheer laziness and minimal guilt, and except for the course that I was going into the exam with a goddam failing mark in, I don't think I'll have any trouble passing. Unless things go horribly wrong that is, like they did for so many of my goddam midterms beneath my breath, but that's besides the point... The only snag in my little plan, the only pestering problem I had left, was that god-awful, ghost of mine from years yonder past...

The same goddam exam that I failed last year. Horribly, might I add.

And I knew, I just knew, that I was going to fail it again this year...

... and I did not disappoint...

I was really hoping that my exam this year for the fucking course that I failed last year, would've been at least a bit easier on my mind, especially considering I was relearning all the course material for the second damn year in a row... But I don't know what went wrong. Either it was because I had a major exam just yesterday, preventing me from studying for more than four or five hours for this exam of mine (not like I would've studied any more), or maybe it was because of the fear I was experiencing for really no apparent reason whatsoever. Seriously, I was panicking. The likes of which I haven't felt since I last faced my phobia of fucking water... but that's a story for another day...

Afterall, it really is hard to fuck water. But, um, nevermind...

Because I mean, this course of mine has really scarred me. I realize that now... For none of my exams this year, not even for the one where I got a goddam 25% on the midterm, did I ever experience anything but pure laziness and boredom before and during the exams. But for this course, this one damn course alone, that I got a 49% in last year? For the entire morning today, my spine was literally paralyzed in fear. Noxious gases were free-sprawling throughout my stomach, churning away like butterflies into butter, and to be honest? The last time I felt this damn nervous, was probably over some goddam elementary school Spring play, or one of those awful French, High School skits I used to do or some crap presentations like that... I mean, what the hell was wrong with me? It was just a stupid ass exam today. I never seize or seizure up from those. Not since first year at least... Hell, this one damn course of mine has truly made my life a living hell.

And fuck. I think I failed it again.

Fuck it. Oops, I seriously think I did it again...

I'll never live this down...

... hell, my parents will probably never even let me live if they see a failing mark...

But I have an excuse! Besides the fact that I'm an idot!... This exam was morally ambiguously hard! How the fuck did a second year course that I had already taken last year, somehow end up having the hardest damn exam that I've had out of all of my goddam third year courses so far this year? It makes no logical sense! Well, except for the fact that I absolutely suck like a nipple of a turd in this course... And unfortunately for me, I seriously doubt any of the wishes and promises that I made on my birthday, will have any lasting effect on whether I goddam ultimately succeed in this course or not... not after I had already wasted one of my wishes...

Though it was a wish well granted, with time well wasted...

Ay, another year gone by... with Father Time whipping my ass to be a father...

Yeah. I know. IVT 420 has gone and passed. Once again, I was left alone and morbid on my birthday so to speak, with nothing to do but to dwell over the crap exam that I had the afternoon before, and ponder over procrastinating for my exam the day after. Once again, I was stuck between a rock a hard place (or a rock and a fat place, but that's a story for another day...), with purgatory one foot in the past and hell just one foot further into the future. But nevertheless, I made the most of my birthday, even though it disheartened me that my sister didn't even come home for it because it would've been too much trouble to get through traffic that night... and ay, there lies the rub...

Downtown Toronto.

Air Canada Centre.

My birthday wish.

It actually came true.

The Toronto Maple Leafs whooped the ass of the Senators. On IVT 420, mine and Hitler Mein's birthday, forever etched in the annals and graces of time, I got my wish. The Maple Leafs beat the Ottawa Senators 4-1 in the seventh heaven, decisive game of the Battle of Ontario, capping off their usual first step in their ever futile, Stanley Cup playoff runs... It was a wish come true, and whoever granted it, I thank them from the bowels of my bottom-feeding ho of a heart... I had other wishes too, you know. That Toronto would beat the Philadelphia Flyers in seven games, that they'd go against Montreal in the SemiConference finals, yadda yadda yadda... and ah, yes - the eternal sunshine of a Syphilis dream, the torment of a tantalizing hope, for all Leaf games, for all Leaf fans... Nineteen Sixty-Seven, dammit... Nineteen Sixty-Seven...

And alas, I had more wishes of course. That I would earn myself a pass in every course that I had, that I wouldn't shit in my pants before my exam today, yadda yadda yadda... but it seems, that only one birthday wish can ever get granted at a time. And in exchange for my eternal loneliness on the day that I got one year older (and felt twenty years too old), I got at least one moment of happiness. Of utter jubiliation... besides my wet dream of course... And the gods did not disappoint.

I just wonder why I did, why I had to disappoint myself so goddam badly today, that's all. But I do this every year... What do I honestly expect after studying only three or four hours for each of my exams in one of the fucking hardest universities in the entire world?...

A birthday when I can actually celebrate, maybe?...

A girlfriend? A family? To finally find my place in the world?...

...

... ah, fuck it.

Right now, I'd prefer four wins over Philadelphia, thank you very much...

Well... I can always wish...

Dare to dream,  I always say... whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...

Go Leafs Go.

...

ATI: Hmm... I'm sure I missed a ton of nVidia and ATI warring news while I was in exam hiatus, but apparently it wasn't interesting, otherwise I would've remembered it by now... But still, at least I know that Legit Reviews did an interview with Terry Makedon of ATI. Don't know what he said, but do I ever? Go ahead and be smarter than me at: http://legitreviews.com/reviews/atiinterview0404/.

nVidia: Seems Gamers Depot has a story up about what developers have to say about the new Pixel Shader technologies coming up. Since it always seems like Developers Say the Darnest Things, you might as well take a look at: http://www.gamers-depot.com/interviews/dx9b/001.htm.

Y2kk Update: It's been a hard past couple of weeks for me... at least compared to my normal North American, coaster-worthy of a life, that is...

Once again, the parents are getting on my case. I let slip that I got a fucking 25% on one of my midterms, and pretty much failed a couple other ones as well, so obviously my father hasn't exactly been the most friendly of campers... It's also the start of final exam season for me, and considering how badly I'm doing this term, I obviously can't devote too much of my time to writing about no-name crap that nobody will ever read or care about on these websites of mine... But you know what's really embarrassing? It's the fact that this was supposed to be my semester. This was supposed to be my term... Even though I have six courses to chew my fat, sloth of an ass through, most of those courses were at first sight, at first glance, right up my alley. Most of those courses were exactly the type of computer courses that I thought I could Microsoft excel at... and now look at me! This term is already, absolutely the worst term I've ever had in university. And for who? For what? For what goddam reason, I'll never know... my marks are lower than ever, I'm in more shambles of a shame than ever before... and hell, I'm actually skipping out on writing for my crappy websites for once, simply in the hope of doing more work on the weekends for school... and honestly? Who throws a shoe? Honestly? Since when did that actually happen?...

The last update I wrote was on my Tweakui site. I mentioned that after putting more than an entire week of pure work into my latest Operating Systems assignment, that I got stuck with barely a passing mark.... and what really pissed me off, was that in third year, I was simply relearning a lesson that I had learned a long time ago back in first year... The fact of the matter is, I don't do work. I simply don't. I study a bit for the midterms, I normally study a lot for the finals, but that's about it. Except for a few of my programming assignments, I do absolutely no work inbetween... because for who? For what? For why, exactly? I've criticized myself a dozen times fold this year alone, about why I simply don't do the work I've been assigned to do. And the thing is, my failure of a mark on my Operating Systems midterm this term, was enough incentive for me to actually get my lazy ass in gear and do the crap that I'm supposed to do... But you know what really sucked?

Back in first year, I tried doing my work in that first term, and failed miserably on everything I did on my own in the process... So after half a fucking term of feeling utterly pathetic, what did I do? I essentially gave up. I did absolutely no work whatsoever, and you know what? I got exactly the same damn marks on the assignments after doing no work, than I did when I was trying my damn hardest to understand the material... Obviously, that speaks volumes about the problems I have with university. I'm careless in my equations, I tend to miss key statements in the textbook, and whenever I did go to class back then, I would doze off or rudely read a newspaper... But it's third year now. In pure stupidity, I shrugged off the lessons of old and the ghosts of my Christmas past, and actually thought that doing working for a change would actually get me somewhere far this year. Afterall, this was supposed to be my year, my fucking term... So I did a ton of work for Operating Systems for three entire weeks straight. I did a ton of work for Networking the next three fucking weeks of my life... and where the hell did it get me? What the hell did it actually do for me?... I got goddam below average on the Operating Systems assignment, even though I goddam had more working in it than most of the people who scored higher than the class average... And what the hell was the use of studying so damn much for Computer Networks? I barely passed the midterm when everyone else I knew seemed to cruise by the class average, I was given a fucking 10% on the latest quiz when I thought I knew the goddam material going in, and what the hell is up with my TA for my final Networking assignment? While every other student was getting perfect for their programs that work worse than mine, my stupid ass TA simply commented that "my program works", and that I didn't deserve a high mark... and this was even after he fucking admitted that I deserved some extra credit for doing the entire goddam assignment alone...

I mean, what the fuck? Honestly... I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. No matter how hard I work, I goddam get the same exact marks as I do when I do no work at all. This is exactly why I goddam stopped going to class in first year. This is exactly why I stopped caring about school in the first place... When I work so damn hard and barely get a passing mark, I feel so damn ashamed. I always feel like I deserve so much more in the end, and yet end up getting nothing but vulturous scraps in return. But at least when I just sit on my lazy ass and enjoy the semester like a girl riding a sybian, then at least I don't feel nearly as bad when I get another goddam 10% on goddam quizzes where the class average was something like six goddam times my mark... I learned this lesson back in first year. And to have to learn it all over again in third year?... that's not just sad... that's mortally embarrassing...

I just never learn. In more ways than one...

I can't say things have been going terribly for me though... not compared to previous years, at least... But I don't know. Some things that I thought were constant around me are suddenly starting to unravel like a piss poor book, and shriveling to show me their true covers and roots... The other night, when all of my friends had gathered together to share answers for the final Computer Complexity assignment we had, a little problem sort of formed at the latte foam... You see, this friend of mine who probably had the most right of answers in the group, didn't exactly want outsiders to see what he had written. I think we can all relate to his predicament in some fashion or another... The thing is, he had no compunctions showing what he wrote to me and his other close friends, but he definitely had a problem with anyone else seeing what he had solved. And the fact of the matter remained, that as soon as we could jot down what he had written, it was merely a short amount of time until we inevitably showed the answers to our own circles of friends, many of which included people that quite frankly, this friend of mine hated... And then they'd show their friends, and those friends would show it to their friends, and it's only logical - share, share, that's fair, isn't it? Even if it's exponential... hell, it should be expected. The grape vine and all... and, well...

That was part of the realization that befell on me that eerie night... 'twas the fact that so many people at school hate so many others, even though I've never noticed it before. I mean, how naive can I be?... Yet still, it just felt odd to me that friends of mine could hate other friends of mine just sitting on the other side of the table from me, and that this one friend of mine still refused to let me see his work out of fear that I would tell the answers to those he didn't like one damn bit... Sure, I could've given him my word that I wouldn't spread the word out to anyone, that I wouldn't share what I saw on his papers if he let me look. But honestly? I couldn't do such a thing... I wouldn't, nor shouldn't have ever made such a promise... Because I sure as hell wouldn't have been able to put up with the guilt I'd be forced to bear if dozens of my friends came looking for me an hour later, asking if I had the right answers to the questions...

So what did I do? By the pale moonlight, I had a solemn and single chat with this friend of mine. I said that it's true - if I saw the answers from him, then I would probably end up giving them away to someone that he most likely hates, especially considering I never knew he hated so many people until he started ranting in paranoia that fateful day... He still wanted to give me the solutions though. He knew that I tried doing the last assignment all by myself, and naturally ended up failing when literally nobody else that I knew failed... I was in big trouble in this course, just like every other course it seemed. But I saw that look of fear in his eyes that night... my friend simply didn't trust me, because I had honestly told him that he had no reason to trust me... I couldn't agree with his opinion. So I made the decision for him... I told him that if I can't give the answers to others, then I simply didn't want the answers in the first place. In a sense, I said this to make him feel guilty, and maybe snap some sense into him... Afterall, why the hell would he even offer to let me see the answers in the first place, when he knows that I'm the type of person to give away all my knowledge for free at the drop of a pin? Why would he ever offer for anyone to see his stuff, when he knows that he himself shares the solutions to all his friends whenever he gets them from someone he knows or not... but still... I hope I didn't offend him or anything. I was hoping that he'd actually make a choice then and there, to either show his friends the goods and accept the consequences, or simply go home and keep his knowledge to himself... I wouldn't blame him, no matter what he chose. But he didn't choose. Not then at least... and I went home after that... And when I got home? I learned of his final decision... He was going to show everyone his answers. But when more of his friends started saying the same thing that I did, when he realized he couldn't contain who would attain his knowledge or not, that's when he just gave up on all his friends and left... but still, I don't blame him. Guys like me - scavengers like I - we're as annoying as they come. We really don't deserve anything... it's only fair...

But being fair isn't the same as being nice... at least now I know where my friend stands when it comes to crap like that...

But there was another reason why I decided to leave that night, instead of doing all the work in the labs with my other friends... The thing is, obviously I wasn't the only person trying to get the answers from my friend that night. We had a whole circle of friends willing to share answers, and since one of my other friends had willingly shown his solutions, he was expecting nothing but the same treatment in return. And considering he wasn't feeling well that day, either from a lack of sleep or simply from sickness, I don't blame him for what he said... Hell, I even forgave him for it five minutes into the next day, even though it hurt how he didn't even seem to remember what he muttered under his breath... but still... I'll still never manage to forget what he said... because I sadly sort of found it to be true...

The truth hurts. That's the only truth I know...

You see, for the past three months, this guy has been my partner for a hell of a lot of computer labs. And the thing is, I owe him a lot. A hell of a lot... And a lot of those times, I ended up embarrassing myself. The thing is, I'm as loud and obnoxious as they come... Whenever my partner would try talking to me in code or some sort of crap like that, underneath the table if you know what I'm saying (hmm... I really need to stop it with the subconscious gay references... but, oh, nevermind...)... the thing is, no matter how hard I tried to pay attention, I still wouldn't have a damn clue what the hell he was talking about. I would always end up blurting out exactly what he wanted to hide, always at the top of my lungs, always absolutely stupefied when he shutted me up afterwards, only to finally realize what kind of moronic idiot I just made myself out to be... The thing is, this kind of embarrassment for me? It happens... a lot... both now, and in the past... It's not just that I have a big mouth. It's that I'm pretty much as naive as they come. I mean, take a good, piss hard look at these webpages of mine! Why do you think I only try to speak the truth? Because I'm so damn incapable and inpalpable of lying, that I can't even tell when my own goddam partner is speaking between the lines, no matter how many times he literally hit me on the shoulder... He never made fun of me for it during the term though. I always just made fun of it myself, and hoped that I wouldn't make the same mistake a second time around... it just sucked that the second time around always turned out to be the twelfth time around or some crap like that... I just never learn, it seems...

My partner is a good man. He's patient, and funny, and blah blah blah. You know the guy bonding drill... The thing is, I don't blame him for what he said. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt though... The thing is, that other friend of mine (who didn't want to let any of his enemies see his assignment work) was going to photocopy for my partner a copy of his work, if only out of thanks for my partner photocopying his own work for him... The thing is, a bunch of "pigeons" and the like, as my partner called them, overheard that he was getting the answers, and decided to tag along to the photocopy store, even though they were never invited. And the thing is, it hurt me quite a bit whenever my partner called my other circles of friends something derogatory like vultures, but I put up with it obviously, because I knew he was a good man. He was just a pissed off man that night, that's all... The thing is, once again, I was humiliated when he tried talking in code to me... I was already a bit pissed off at him myself, for all his name calling and crap, so when he mentioned that he and our friends were going to eat first and then photocopy afterwards, I had no clue what he was talking about. I mean, why the hell would we go to eat, when my partner obviously wanted to go home as soon as possible?... It didn't occur to me until he half snapped at me, that maybe he was trying to decoy the pigeons off of our tail... In an attempt to try to look like the smart guy who can read between the lines for once, I assumed that my partner was only going to trick the other guys into heading for the food buildings, while the rest of us would sneak off to the photocopy machines. I can't say I liked his plan. I can't say I ever like deception... but I wasn't going to say anything to a sick man who was already pissed off at the situation. I wasn't going to say anything to the man that I owed a hell of a lot to, so what else could I do?...

I CVS tagged along like any good soldier boy would, following orders as they came. The entire time, my partner was making fun of more and more "pigeons", including a close friend of mine who actually helped us out a lot on all of our labs, even though my partner really didn't know about it... But I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to piss him off. I owed him a lot, so it was only fair that I wouldn't say anything harsh, especially when he was feeling down... The thing is, eventually we lost sight of that friend of ours who was going to give us the solutions. We didn't know where he went, but I had a good feeling that maybe, just maybe, I actually wasn't the only one who couldn't read between my partner's lines... Under the assumption that maybe, just maybe our friend had actually gone to eat like my partner told him to, I turned around to my lab partner and simply asked him (in what I hope was a calm voice... but I can never be sure):

"What are we going to do now? Like I said, I don't want to wait around to eat..."... or something along those lines...

I just didn't really expect what my friend said next.

I mean, he sort of snapped at me... The next day, he didn't even remember what he told me... but I sure did... and I still do, sadly...

...

"You STILL don't get it?! Damn... Maybe you really don't belong in school..."

...

... and, well...

... it was an innocent enough statement, was it not? Not something that would normally spin my head and turn the world upside down like a bad soap opera... But like I said, things just haven't been going my way lately. I was feeling terribly ashamed of every single damn time I made myself out to be an idiot while talking to him in the labs. I wanted to make up for it, and the sad fact of the matter is, he was right - I STILL didn't know what the hell he was talking about that night I guess, and I was almost about to confront him about it, before I bit my lip... And of course, I was still terribly reeling from the fact that I had just failed a ton of assignments and tests after trying my damn hardest to study and learn for them. It hurt enough that I was doing awful this term, but the true exclamation mark dug into the gaping wounds of my heart when I realized that even working at my hardest, nothing I did made a fucking difference what-so-fucking-ever...

It's something my brain simply refuses to fanthom. I fucking sadly deserve the pitiful marks that I get... and ay, there lies the rub...

... and, well... No one else heard whatever my partner said to me. Hell, I doubt even he realized what his tongue let slip in the heat of the conversation... The thing is, without witnesses, I don't even know whether I heard him right or not. Maybe I simply heard what was already echoing in the insecure bowels of my mind? I don't know... all I know, is that either way, I was hurt. So what did I do?... refusing to let a simple little assignment ruin what I thought had become a pretty decent friendship over the past three months, I simply said I was too tired to stay at school anymore. My other friends started chiding me for leaving - they knew I was giving up on my mark yet again, but they didn't know why... no-one heard why... In a way, I agreed with my friends' newfound disgust at me. It's true - I let my emotions rule me. A perfectly logical person would've stayed at school, no matter the situation, to get the best mark possible on the assignment... and in a sense, I was that Mr. Logical Robotico. I was going to stay, even if my words didn't sound like I would.

But various factors came into play that my fanthomless little head could not foresee... When my lab partner wouldn't really talk to me at the time, I decided to tell my other friends that I was going to go. When they started scolding me for essentially being a baby, I decided that I would stay, as long as they stayed in their current spot so I could find them later on (I knew they would never listen to me, but I told them this anyways, no matter their reputation...). I then left to get my bag (which I had left somewhere else, somewhere insecure, in the care of the friends who I was just talking to...), and ran into that friend of mine with the solutions (and had that discussion about loyalty and crap like that, which I outlined far above). Because I talked to him for ten minutes or something, by the time I returned to the spot where my friends had been, they were long gone... naturally... expectently... I spent the next half hour looking for them, but like the dogs of ghosts that they are, they were nowhere to be found... I didn't know whether they simply had gone to eat or had simply gone home for all I knew, so I decided to leave myself. And godammit, it wasn't until that very night when I finally arrived home, that I realized that my goddam assignment (or at least most of what I had written for it) was goddam missing from my goddam bag... and hell, the next morning, not only did my friends once again chide me for leaving school without finishing the assignment, but it sort of dug into those old hound wounds of mine when my lab partner just pretended like he hadn't said anything cruel to me the night before... unless he wasn't pretending... I guess I'm just not smart enough to ever know...

Is everything cool between us now? Of course... it's just that... I don't know... I don't know whether I did the right thing or not. For one stupid ass mark, I refused to put up with this shit. Friendships and sanity mean far more to me than any goddam assignment mark that I could ever hope to achivve, no matter how badly I'm doing in the course... I mean, for what it's worth, simply pouting put... When I first went to university, I didn't think about my future. I didn't really care about my marks. I only wanted to meet a bunch of people that I thought I could finally relate to. I was looking for true friends. In a sense, my mission hasn't changed... like always, I haven't changed...

Wow... I really am naive...

No wonder I'm fucking failing.

ATI: Saw over at Rage3d that the ATI Catalyst drivers have been updated to version 4.4. Nothing much seems new, except some Radeon 9700 compatibility issues with certain monitors and resolutions. But no matter what was changed, I'm sure the entire world hoping for some driver tweaks will downloader version 4.4 at: http://www.ati.com/support/driver.html.

ATI: And if you're in the mood for some R420 rumours, then go ahead and indulge yourself at X-bit Labs at: http://www.xbitlabs.com/news/video/display/20040408100025.html.

ATI: Well, I've never cared about this stuff very much outside of the video game world, but if you're into sales data, then ATI has put up a pdf of their second fiscal quarter 2004 results. Go ahead and obsess over the non-existent video card wars at: http://www.ati.com/companyinfo/ir/2004/atiq204.pdf.

nVidia: Anandtech has an article up about the future of video cards (the future being the only thing people ever care about when it comes to video cards). They talk about PCI Express and the hype machine building around the NV40. Go ahead and believe the hype at: http://www.anandtech.com/video/showdoc.html?i=2018.

Y2kk Update: As you probably could guess from my noticeable absence of updates as of late, my life during the past two weeks hasn't exactly been my idea of a cup of swell... Hell, AOL, the only thing that's swell in my goddam life these days, is that goddam swelling on the back of my crank of a bloody hell neck. Heck, what a wreck - wasting two more hours of my life, just to debug one goddam bug in my stupid Networking programming assignment - sure as hell didn't McGriddle or grimace or give me a goddam smile today... all these delays - what a day... And as for the rest of my past two weeks? I had an impossible assignment on one hand, job rejections on the other. I had two bloody midterms that went horribly, and a denial for my petition to get my goddam failed midterm mark erased... I just won't bother... I got stabbed in the back by not just one fat fuck, but two... but hey, what can you do? This was all crap that I wanted to write on my Tweakui site for it's fourth anniversary or some crap like that, and hell's bells, I've been too busy to even do that... Hopefully tonight or later this week, I'll find the time to finally write what I goddam wanted to write on that goddam site of mine that I never, ever update anymore. But for now, there are a couple of things leftover that I wouldn't mind to note, here and now...

I had a strange, vivid dream the other night... and I was kind of pissed off that I did. I've been seriously getting a lack of sleep lately, all thanks to tests and assignments that just won't quit, even this close to final exam time... And even though it was predictable that it was going to happen, I seriously didn't want the dream to be about her... but I knew it would after she seemed to ignore me for two days in a row, even after I tried to make amends with a smile here and friendly hello there... So last week, after just giving up on the girl I always talk about yet again, I settled down for my night of slumber, only to awake a couple bloody hell hours later with goddam underwear full of semen... Wet dreams happen a lot for me. I just don't remember the dreams or sugar plums that make them... But I don't know why, but something about the dream that caused me to soil my pants this time around, seemed special enough for me to want to write it out, just so that I don't forget what little I do remember...

It's not like I remember much... I remember walking around, cleaning a polished floor of some sort. I was scrubbing a mop in circles around the area that the girl I always talk about was yuking it up with that goddam fairy boytoy she now always hangs out with... As they were fraudulently laughing it up as if the were some aristocrat English secret society or some crap like that, I eventually overheard something... The girl I always talk about was telling the other guy about the first time they met. As I was listening in on the conversation (and as she was ignoring my existence, no matter how close I got, like she always does in reality), I heard her snicker: "I was looking around for Ivan. And when I thought I saw him, I looked over, and it turned out to be you!"... and even in the most innermost subconscious parts of my mind, I knew that this was a dream. But a dream based on reality, since goddammit, my nose grows larger and my penis shorter every damn time I pretend like I don't think of her new jackass as some sort of replacement for me... So what did I do about this in my dream? Even knowing this was a dream, I fell flat on my face. I tripped over my own goddam phallic mop, and tasted the goddam floor that I was cleaning. And finally, the girl I always talk about noticed that I was still alive. She fluttered: "Ivan, need any help there?"... and what did I do? Just like in real life, I lied by putting on a slap happy face, got up by myself, and told her everything was just fine as I walked and wallowed away in self-pity and sorrow...

Eventually I forgot that I was in a dream, and I came across a room (looked like a drama stage) where spinning tea cups seemed to be circling a woman on a podium. I walked up to her and asked if she could be my replacement girlfriend. And I forget what she looked like - I remember I thought she was quite ugly - but did I really care? I was feeling rejected, and I asked for this fugly girl's hand fully knowing that she was just a quick fix for how I was feeling about the girl I always talk about... So what did this girl do? I forget why, but she said exactly this: "Why, of course! I didn't take the prerequisite dancing lessons, but who did?..." Now, I have really no fucking clue what that means, but she grabbed me by the ass and started twirling me around. She soon started smooching all over me, and at first I resisted. But I then saw the girl I always talk about in the corner of my eye, and I just started kissing this ugly girl back, just to feel like a goddam whole again... just to feel like someone of worth... and that's when I goddam woke up from you know what if you're a guy... Back in high school, I used to have dreams like this all the time about the ILuvYou girl and the Beautifully Minded girl who left for Seattle's Best Coffee. But I never really had a dream like this for the longest time since then, not even for my obsession... So I thought it was of some note. Maybe a much better psychoanalysist than I am will figure out what the hell my dream means one day... not like anyone will ever read my website mind you, but still...

Now, it'd surely be an understatement to say that the girl I always talk about was the only person who peeved me off this week... Like I stated before, two of the goddam members of my goddam networking group backstabbed me in the fucking ass... although to be fair, one of them didn't do it on purpose, I believe... but still... There was one other person that hurt me gravely the other week, even though I'm sure he didn't mean it. And I'm sure that I really shouldn't have felt bad about it, considering this guy was a close friend and all... but still...

The other week, I had missed out on my sister coming home for the first time in a month, since I was too goddam busy working on labs at school. The following week, my sister said she'd come back one more time, just to see me. So what else could I do? I promised that I would arrive home in time for dinner that day, just so I wouldn't disappoint my family again. But when the day finally came, complications inevitably arose, as fucking always... It wasn't like I was so damn busy with labs that day. None of our stuff were due for weeks, so there was no damn reason for me to stay at school for more than just the prerequisite dancing lesson hours... But the thing is, I made a crucial mistake. You see, I promised this friend of mine that I would meet him to do the lab early that day. I set a time and a place, and it wasn't like I expected at the time to not meet the deadline... But other things happened, naturally... I ran into other friends. I had another lab to do.  I got hungry. I applied to some jobs on the internet... and by the time I was finally goddam ready to go home, I realized that I had just fucking left my partner out in the cold for more than two hours straight. I rushed to the room where we were supposed to meet, and he was still there. And he didn't look mad... which was fine I guess. I apologized, and expected nothing of it. I mean, my other friends leave me hanging out to dry all the time. I may get pissed when they leave without me, which they always seem to do... but I never get pissed at them for never being punctual, even when they were four fucking hours late the other day past our meeting time... So expecting the same treatment from this other friend of mine, we started working on the lab we were supposed to do, and nothing seemed wrong in the world. It wasn't long until I had to go home for dinner though, and I didn't think that was a problem, considering my partner now had to go do the lab that I had shafted him for earlier in the day. So I left him and my other friends to go home... I felt terrible that I had only spent an hour doing work with my partner, when I had earlier promised to do three. The three. Eternal Sunshine three... But goddammit, I needed to get home for dinner. For family... I was damned if I do, and damned if I don't...

Which is why I still stand by what I did, even to this day. I still stand firm that going home early was the lesser of two evils, even after the scalding e-mail I got from my friend later that night... As I was afraid, he sort of mentioned that he was disappointed that I left him waiting for so long. I apologized to him earlier about it though, so it wasn't like he was cruel about it or anything... but just the fact that he mentioned it again hurt me pretty damn badly, if only because I realized the truth that I had hurt him more than I thought I ever would. Apparently, he didn't have the same patience that I have with my other friends, and I couldn't help but beat myself over with an ugly stick that night for this petty, little transgression of mine... and goddammit, I'm still sorry for arriving so damn late to our meeting place, when I really had no damn good reason to be so delayed. It was my fault, and only my fault... it was my choice, and as minor of a transgression as that may be, it's still haunting me to this day...

But strangely enough, my partner didn't stop there in his e-mail... He only briefly mentioned the fact that I left him waiting and wanton for two hours. He seemed far more upset at the fact that I left school early that night. And, umm... WHAT? I mean, yes, I admit that it was wrong for me to leave him hanging there and only get an hour's worth of work done when I promised three. The three. The trinity... But c'mon, already! I explained to him three fucking times that day about missing my sister's dinner the other week! I even told him that I promised my family I would get home early that evening! And yet here he was, complaining to me that I fucking did the wrong thing by leaving him and my other friends out to dry, when they all knew what goddam family means to me?... I know I'm taking this out of context and severely out of proportions. Obviously, I've had a goddam rotten week and it's goddam seriously ebbing at my temper... but honestly! I know that it was wrong for me to be late that day! I know that it was kind of rude for me to leave without getting anything done, when I promised results that evening. But c'mon already! Chastise me for being late then, why don't you? Chastity belt me for having such a fucking lame night life... But you fucking knew that I had to get home for a family dinner! You fucking knew what I promised my family... The problem now is, I feel terrible that I hurt my friend's feelings over this. I apologized to him the next day... but it still hurts me badly, that I actually feel bad about something that I fucking don't think was actually wrong! I still don't think I was wrong! I was damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I picked the lesser of two evils. And now I'm paying for it with goddam schizophrenia... Normally, when I feel guilty for something, I admit that I was wrong. But I fucking wasn't wrong this time...

... I just wasn't right either...

But enough of petty complaints. It's now my dinner time for today, the Leafs are playing, and I need to get a resume done for a job offer my sister was generous enough to find for me... I know I'm overreacting to the tiny, petty e-mail that my lab partner sent me. In the end, he didn't really mean anything, and I appreciate that he was candid with me... I just don't appreciate being blamed for something that I seriously think was not my fault. But I guess that happens a lot in life... especially in weeks where everything feels like a goddam sanity's requiem... where the only sleep and sex you get, is with nightmares of fucking ugly women with yammering bitches in the background...

I can bitch about that at least, now can't I?...