Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Angel in Disguise

Current song stuck in my head: If God Will Send His Angels - U2.

Yesterday wasn't a great day. Or at least, it didn't start that way. Prime wasn't in a great mood and snapped at me which only put me in a bad mood and made me want to cry.

Normally, I don't really want to go to work, but yesterday I was glad to see the building. I felt even better when I saw what was in the parking lot.

It was a Camaro. A 2010 Camaro. In yellow. And sporting racing stripes, no less. I already knew that I had to get a closer look at it when I got the chance. So when Prime dropped me off, I took a few steps to the building, then raced to the car in the parking lot. As I slipped my knapsack on my other shoulder, my breath caught in my throat.

There was a sigil beneath the word "CAMARO" on the car. Even at the distance I was standing, I knew exactly what it was.

It was an Autobot sigil. The Camaro that was in my store's parking lot was a Bumblebee edition. Now I had to get a better look at him.

He was, in a word, beautiful: bright yellow paint contrasting with the deep ebony stripes that ran across his hood and back, an Autobot sigil embroidered in his upholstery, the Chevy logo gleaming on his steering wheel and front grille. A thing of beauty, he was. It took all my strength not to bend close and kiss the top of his driver's side door. He was that gorgeous.

That urge to cry, the feeling of stupidity and awkwardness that I had felt not five minutes before was gone. I didn't feel like such an idiot and I didn't feel quite so alone now. Bumblebee was nearby; I was all right. Everything would be fine. After I said a soft good-bye and thank you, I walked into the store, a huge grin on my face. Who cared if Prime wanted to play the sourpuss? It didn't matter to me anymore.

Later on, Prime did give me a call on my cell and apologized. But it was rather moot at that point. I was past caring about the debacle that had been the morning. My mood had been lifted by an angel.

It's been said that angels appear to us in forms that we can comprehend. Most think of angels and see humanoids with white, fluffy wings. My angel is different: he has wings, but they double as car doors. Sometimes he can speak, other times he needs a radio to communicate. But he's always a robot.

He's Bumblebee. And he's my guardian angel. What happened yesterday proves it yet again.

--Weasel, "If Primus will send his hearlds/Sure could use them here right now..."

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Sunday Morning Surprise

Rescuing the Rescuer

Late Saturday night I spotted it, a level 12 Japanese Golett with a nickname. How did I know the little guy had a nickname? The characters were radically different than that of a normal, un-named Golett's species name. A level 12, nicknamed, no hold item but the Trainer wanted a Landorus in exchange for this Golett.

Under normal circumstances, I might have let that go. But two things were picking at me: the fact that it was nicknamed and the fact that it was at level 12.

Now, I know what you're thinking--what the heck does level have to do with anything? The lowest level you can find one of these little guys is 1, if they've been bred. But you can also spot them at level 10, if they happen to come from the Dream World. Because of this, I decided to take the risk; I'd try and make the trade and perhaps I'd get another Dream Worlder.

Since I had no Landorus of my own, I offered up a Kyurem, hoping that someone would take some pity on me and surrender a Landorus that I could use. A couple of hours passed. Nothing. I couldn't wait all night so I went to bed, hoping that I'd get my answer in the morning.

Early Sunday morning, I awoke and after rolling over several times, I managed to doze off again. I'll refer to that as mistake number one.

Don't ask me why but my mind decided to play tricks on me. I ended up trapped in a horrible nightmare; one that involved myself along with a group of others, trapped in a room and trying to disarm a bomb. We weren't having any luck with it, either.

I knew I was dreaming. I knew that what I was experiencing wasn't real and several times, I woke myself up in order to stare at the ceiling and dismiss that awful dream. But each and every time I went back to sleep, I was back among that group of people, a warning claxon screaming in my ears and a timer slowly ticking down to zero as I frantically tried snipping wires to a large and armed bomb, knowing that the effort was fruitless. No matter how many times I brought myself out of that dream, my mind simply restarted the whole process. Again, I awoke and again, I stared at the ceiling, shaking.


That voice in the back of my mind started shouting loudly. I shook my head, refusing to doze off again. I grabbed my DS, turned it on and hit the GTS. Not a moment later, I saw a Poke Ball drop from the sky.

I had finally gotten the Landorus. Now I just needed to find the Golett.

The Golett was still there. I traded immediately and when it landed in my party, I took a look at it.

'Twas a Dream Worlder all right, but the Trainer decided to reteach the little guy Astonish and let him forget his Elemental Punch. No big deal; I'll grab some shards on Black 2 and give him ThunderPunch when I trade him over, I think. No harm, no foul. But it was his nickname that caused me to scratch my head: どぐう. "Wonder what that means," I managed to mumble as I dozed off again, my game saved and my DS powered off.

Thanks to Prime, I found out that his name is Dogū. According to Wikipedia, it's a term for a humanoid figurine made of clay. Given that Golett is a golem made of clay, it fits the little guy perfectly. But in all honestly, I can't help but think it means "savior".

Puzzling over the meaning of that hirgana so early in the morning was enough to break the nightmare's hold over me; when I went back to sleep, I was greeted with a peaceful darkness. No more howling alarms, no shouting group of terrified people, no bomb, no locked down room, nothing. Just peace. Checking that trade, getting that Golett and finding myself fascinated over his name was enough to end the dream. In other words, I owe a few hours of good sleep to a small grouping of pixels.

You wouldn't believe how grateful I am for that, as silly as it seems.

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Some Days I Wonder...

Within two weeks of each other, we have two separate shooting rampages; the second of which was in my home state. It's hard to comprehend such senseless acts.

Can someone explain to me just what is wrong with everything? Why would anyone feel the need to shoot another person? How did the world get this screwed up? I just don't get it.

Again, I can't complain about my life. Everything that's been bothering me has been minor irritations at worst. I am damned lucky.

Which is more than I can say for some others out there. And that makes me want to curl under my blankets and cry. But if I start crying, I won't stop anytime soon.