I need a new name.

For the last year or so, my handle hasn't felt as relevant as it once did. I am no longer the same person I was when I conceived the alias. Like most of my clothes, it's worn, and ill-fitting.

I started using the name when I wanted to start over, to erase my past and move on. I've done that, forgiven myself for my mistakes, and learned from them. I've outgrown my sobriquet and it feels shabby.

An internet handle affects how people see you in ways that your actual name, or even your nickname doesn't. Most people don't choose their real world names for themselves (although I have run into a few.) Your digital moniker is one you have chosen, and when you choose one like assmonkey69, people will judge you for it (my apologies to assmonkey69, I'm sure you had very compelling reasons to use that appellation.)

I don't want to continue using a name that now has connotations with a video game I have never played. People might start to think I'm geeky or something. Wait a minute - I am geeky. I still don't like that particular video game, though. I'm not big on shooter games, or I would probably be playing it right now.

None of the other pseudonyms I use would be appropriate for everyday use. Either they're associated with things I'd rather not have everyone privy to, or I've used them for spam accounts.

So I'm asking my friends, family, acquaintances, and any random people who find my blog, to give me suggestions for a new handle. Something relevant to me, yet obscure enough that it will still be available. I like obscure. Latin is also a bonus. A prize will be awarded to the person whose suggestion I use.

I want to rant.

My frustration looms over the happier things in my life. A black cloud of dissatisfaction roils through my mind, tarnishing the thoughts it touches.

I want to vent, but I don't want to spew the kind of invective boiling within me near my friends. ("Thank you" to the friends I did vent to.)

I would rant to perfect strangers, but then everybody would think I was crazy. (I might actually be crazy if I start ranting to perfect strangers.)

I will blog, although I have blogged about most of my discontent already. Ummm, I guess I did blog about everything that's bothering me already. At least, everything that I can post in a public forum.

Let me reiterate;

Living a nightmare.
My hours at school are worse than the nightmare ever was. I can't wake up. I actually pinched myself while taking a midterm today, to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. I could have taken this test when I was eight and passed. I tried to talk to the teacher to see if I could take more challenging and/or useful courses next quarter, and was informed that there weren't any. I hate college more than I did high school.

Squashed idea.
My friend is still dead. I know this fact will not change, but part of me still hasn't come to terms with it. I drive past his house every day on the way to school. I always glance over to see if his car is there, and then have to remind myself that it's not going to be there. Ever.

#@##%!! Car!
The electrical problems my car was having went from intermittent, to problematical, and then to catastrophic. I'm tempted to 'fix' it with a lit match and some gasoline. I'm now driving a borrowed car, until I can get mine fixed or put in a shallow grave.

The sum of my experiences.

Everyone is the product of the experiences they have had in life. Looking back on the things that have shaped who I am, I realize that the tragedies have had far more impact on my personality than the positive experiences have.

I wonder if all the shallow, self absorbed idiots that I run into every day are just people who have never been shaped by negative experiences. If you have never faced starvation, you don't worry as much about where your food comes from. If you have never felt loneliness, you don't appreciate the gift of simple human contact. If you've never been mugged, beaten, or raped, you don't fear in the same way. If you've never grieved, you don't cling to the living quite as tightly.

I wonder if the people I don't understand, the ones without substance, those giggling girls who care only about their hair, makeup, and which rich man they're going to marry, would be people I could understand if their lives went to shit. If I had never had tragedies or hardship, would I be a superficial, feather headed moron? Would I have been happier as a moron?

Living a nightmare.

I've had a recurring nightmare for the last eight years or so. In it, I am back in high school. Miserable, boring, lonely high school. The uncomfortable desks are too small for me to sit at. Everybody is staring at me. The teacher drones on in an incomprehensible monotone. The air is hot and stuffy.

I panic and try to say, "I shouldn't be here. I've graduated. I have a diploma. I have all the knowledge I need from here." My voice comes out tiny and strangled, and nobody listens to me. I head for the door, but there is only a maze of hallways, classrooms full of glassy-eyed students, and droning teachers.

This is a horrible dream. I always wake up unsettled and carry that same lack of confidence I had in high school around for days following this dream.

I had an epiphany today. I went back to school. Now I am living my nightmare. My classes are pointless review of what I have been studying for the last TEN YEARS! I don't need another diploma. I have experience in the field I am going to school for. I could have challenged three out of the four classes I am taking right now and gotten full credit for them.

College has been a monumental waste of my time. I have gotten neither the knowledge nor the social contact I had hoped for by returning to school. The internet is a far more valuable learning tool than textbooks and disinterested community college professors.

Now I'm going to go surf the net and learn something.

Squashed idea.

Grief is a bizarre thing. You lose someone and months, or even years afterwards, something reminds you of that loss. Suddenly, you feel like you did the very moment that you lost them, like someone punched you in the stomach, and you grieve for them all over again.

I had one of those moments today. I had a really cool idea and thought, "I gotta call Larry and tell him about this." Then it hit me. I can't call him, he's gone. I don't even have anyone else I could tell my idea to, because now I feel like shit, and my great idea looks all stupid. Grief squashed my cool idea. Now I just want to find a box of Kleenex and go to bed.

#@##%!! Car!

While the rest of America was watching the Superbowl, I was busy flinging curses at my broke down car. Ordinarily, I like to work on vehicles. Mechanical tinkering tends to come easily to me, and I can usually fix any problems that don't require brute strength as a solution.

Apparently electrical problems are not my forte, at least not on a car where everything appears to be broken, yet by some miracle also functions part of the time. So one ignition coil, two battery cables, two jump starts, and half a dozen tightened connections later, my car is running again. Joy.

Interesting things I read yesterday.

While reading a rather biased book about how corporate advertising affects the American diet, I came across something appalling. The American Diabetes Association gets a large part of it's funding from Cadbury-Schweppes. That strikes a sour chord with me. A diabetes causing company, funding research about what causes diabetes.

Perhaps I'm hopelessly naive, but it seems to me that SCIENCE should be concerned with truth, not profit. I'd rather not have to lump corrupt scientists in with the politicians.

On a completely different subject, I finished reading my second Jim Butcher book last night. Thank you Trevor, for pointing me in the direction of another good author. It was actually the third in the series, due to the library not having the second one. I guess I'll have to buy it if I want to read it. After glancing at my overfilled shelves, I think I need to buy another bookcases first. I don't know if my bookcases can handle the strain of me starting another collection.

My first blog ever!

I am now one of the millions of people who use a blog to make their private information public. I find myself wondering if this is a good idea. Years from now, will someone read my blog and cause problems for me? Will my children be horrified if they read something about my sex life? Will I get fired if my boss reads it? What sorts of social drama will come of this?

On the positive side, this could be a time saving tool to disseminate information about myself without having to actually talk to anyone. Want to know more about me - read my blog. Want to hear about the banal details of my life? Here they are, displayed in all their glory. Blogging seems to be the perfect way to be utterly narcissistic and not seem like a total jerk while I do it.

Perhaps I'll have a popular blog. A fan club even. It's been years since I had a fan club.

I will attempt to keep all this in mind as I write. Hopefully, I will not stray into the realm of TMI( too much information) and cause myself untold amounts of drama. I don't like drama.