I'm a damn lucky gamer dude. My girlfriend will save my ass in Resident Evil 5, she'll click skeletons with me in Diablo 2, and she'll watch me play Burnout Paradise while marking cars off a strategy-guide checklist as I unlock them. It's a dream setup for me.

But this past week, one "uh-oh" almost caused it all to come crashing down.

Raychul was watching me play X-Men Origins: Wolverine with three sets of GameFAQs printouts and one marker in hand. She'd tell me where the next mutagen (for upgrading Wolvie) was hidden, where I could find the next (of 95) dog tag collectible, and if there was a specific Achievement I could get on the level I was on. (Yes, I realize this is a coldly efficient, imagination-less way of playing a game, but hey, my time is limited and those Achievements need achievin', especially for this self-admitted collectibles and Achievement whore -- a dangerously time-consuming combination.)

The "uh-oh"
As we finished the dog tag list, I hear that "uh-oh" from Raychul. We knew we missed a dog tag from much earlier in the game, but for some reason, we crossed all of them off list. And if you're a collectibles junkie like me, you know just how horrifying this discovery can be.

With no way of knowing for sure which tag we missed, we were screwed. If we wanted it, we'd have to play the entire game over from the start and methodically go through the list again to make sure we don't miss it.

That's not happening -- I just don't have the time. So now, even though I've completed Wolverine, "94 out of 95" will forever haunt me. The words "Devil's Brigade" will sit grayed out in my Achievements list, mocking me for months to come. This bothers me so much, I actually asked Dan Vondrak, project lead at developer Raven Software, for advice during an interview.

Lessons
I draw two conclusions out of this mess. Three, if you include "I'm a pathetic little man."

One, all games with collectibles need some sort of tracking system. Burnout Paradise tells you how many billboards, stunt jumps, etc. you've found out of how many are available in each neighborhood in Paradise City. Gears of War 2 does something similar, telling you which collectibles you're missing in each chapter and sub-chapter.

Wolverine does track other Achievement-relevant stats (like the different ways you've killed enemies) but that last dog tag? That's for me to figure out on my own. The nerve of this game!

Conclusion #2: As addicting as Achievements can be for gamers like me, they can easily, easily backfire and sour what should be an otherwise rewarding experience.

Then and now
In the olden days, when you beat a game, horray! You killed the bastard, you saved the chick, and you won the admiration of your nerd friends.

Nowadays, when I beat a game, I immediately go into "complete remaining Achievements" mode. That sense of accomplishment I should've gotten for reaching the end of an adventure is now delayed, reserved for when I've hit my 1000 Gamerscore.

I didn't just recently realize this problem; I remember beating The Lord of the Rings: The Battle for Middle-earth 2, only to feel this sense of emptiness because I screwed up the last chapter, robbing myself of a frivolous Achievement.

I love Achievements (and I'm not just talking about Xbox 360's -- I'm referring to the concept that you can find in a lot of different games and platforms now). I love the idea, I love getting them, and I love getting the little pop-up notification.

But I wish they never existed, too. I estimate I spend about 40% of my gaming time chasing after them --that's a lot! And I long for the days where killing the bastard was all the reward that I needed.

Who needs dog tag #95?

Sadly, I do.