Here I am again. The middle of the night, sitting in my dad's living room, catching up on the day's web surfing, listening to some classic Garbage, and thinking it might be a good idea to post something of my own. My brain is a little bleary at the moment, but I'll attempt to write something, even if it isn't cohesive.

Last night, I spent several hours working on my resumé. Though I had made a token effort to update it last fall, I felt there were several parts that could be improved (and still could be). My theory is that if I'm really serious about finding a programming job, I'd better start somewhere, and the resumé seems like a good place to begin.

I started by trying to do a better job describing all the crap I did at my last job. Just trying to dredge the facts up from the back of my brain brought me on a trip down memory lane, and I almost had to make an effort to stop myself from writing an inline 5 page essay about each item, and how my skills had contributed to the success of various projects.

My ego couldn't help but throw in a few of its own contributions. They were so fucking stupid to fire me. I'm a good employee. I did quality work at that place. My manager almost always had good things to say about the work I had done. But in the end, they threw me away like an old piece of trash. Just like they did with the other people who had been laid off. But I'll show them (they apparently still read my page regularly, last time I checked the logs). I'll find a job somewhere else and do even BETTER work, and they won't get any of it.

And then, I try to reign it in. Leave it behind. Let the past rest. There is nothing to be gained by harboring resentment. Let it go.

But I don't want to let it go completely, because anger can sometimes be a strangely effective motivating force. If I can use such rotten feelings to summon within me enough strength to improve my situation in life, will it have been for the best? Then again, what does it say about me as a person if feelings of bitterness and betrayal can do more to get me moving than the mere knowledge that something good might come of my efforts?

Then again, maybe I'm overstating things. Because my real motivation is to improve my lot in life in a positive manner. The other, nasty bitter stuff just can't help but come up when I take my mind back there. I wish I could find a way to reconcile it.

Then I think about practical matters. Reading stuff like this does not help my optimism. Is everything I'm doing futile? Maybe I was right a few months ago when I thought it was time to just give up on making a living as a programmer. Avoid the disappointment and wasted time, minimize my losses, and figure out another way in life.

I dunno. Would it be best to just count myself as yet another casualty of the boom and bust cycle, and admit defeat? Am I not really cutout to be a real programmer? Was I merely along for the ride, catching the trend while it was hot, making money programming web technologies. Maybe I'm just one of the million HTML monkies who came in and out with the tide.

But that's NOT what I am. I spent years before the web even came to fruition playing with different programming languages, figuring out how things worked, and learning everything I could. I'll be damned if I'm just gonna allow myself to be lumped in with every idiot who happened to learn a little HTML during the wave of hype, and then disappeared when the market crashed.

Ok, I can see that I'm babbling. Taking the introspective path, I guess it could be said that I'm having some major self-esteem issues. Having spent a large chunk of my life learning and working on this shit, I realize that I have based a significant portion of my perceived worth on my ability to code. (And in recent years, my financial well-being also became reliant on it.)

When I come face to face with the fact that not only was this once-valuable employee fired from his former job at the drop of a hat; not only might it be really damn hard for me to find another one; but the real kicker: It might just be that I could live out the rest of my life without writing another single line of code, and the world really wouldn't give a damn.

With that statement in mind, it really dosen't matter whether or not I manage to eke out an existence at another code crunching job or not. I find myself superfluous to the functioning state of the human race. A spec, lost in the tide. Irrelevant.

Blah. This is getting depressing, and it isn't making a whole lot of sense.

Bottom line: I may tweak it some more first, and maybe get some suggestions from other people, but next week, I'd like to start circulating the resume to potential employers, even if I don't have a shot in hell at any of them. It's not like I'm in a total rush (at least I have a deli job and a roof over my head for the time being, so I'm not utterly desperate), but I don't want to stagnate either. Just get the pot stirring a little. We'll worry about getting things up to full boil later.

Different topic.

Thursday evening, I succumbed to temptation. I went to Best Buy, and purchased The Reverend's recently released live dvd, Guns, God, and Government World Tour.

Mini-review:

Given that I enjoy the music of Marilyn Manson, I enjoyed this DVD. The performances excellent, as is the sound quality. (I only listened to the 2 channel audio in my headphones. I don't currently have my 5.1 system setup, and I somehow don't think my mom would have appreciated it if I had. At some point, I will have to check out the DTS and DD tracks the way they were meant to be heard though.)

The Reverend is an intense performer. At several points, I found myself instinctively shaking my fists to the beat the sound and stage mayhem. And I suppose this should be obvious, but it's not for the easily offended. Simulated onstage humping of bandmates, fans, and pretty much anyone or anything in sight. (Although I sort of got the feeling that the cameras cut away from some of the most graphical antics.)

What I didn't like: it's obviously a whole bunch of different shows cut together, with no attention paid to maintaining any illusion of continuity whatsoever. When the view switches from one camera to another, and he's wearing a completely different costume, my threshold for tolerance has been exceeded. Rather than being able to simply enjoy the performance, I find myself taken out of the moment, and wonder which concert the audio I am hearing originated from. (Or did it come from either one? Maybe the entire audio track was cooked up in a studio after the fact. (Not that I would even necessarily mind that, if it improves the overall experience. But at least let me temporarily believe that what I'm seeing is a cohesive event.))

Still, I liked the DVD. Some very visually dramatic stuff. Cruci-Fiction in Space was probably the most memorable in terms of stage arrangement, in which The Reverend stands "in" a gigantic riser as high as stage while performing the song. It's bizarre. Way cool.

Anyway, enough on that.

Hmmm.... Do I have anything else to say tonight?

I guess if I do, it will have to wait, because I'm going to go to bed. Peace and lightness to all.