You know what's weird?
When you're standing at the bar next to a friend, then another friend comes up and starts making out with the first friend.
That's what's weird.
Not in a bad way, just in an unexpected way.
Last night, after exhausting the rest of the draft selection at The Tilted Kilt, I tried a Kronenbourg 1664 lager. I didn't think much of it:
(draft) An absolutely terrible, bland, watery excuse for a beer. Tastes exactly how it looks - weak and boring.
Next I had a Fat Tire. I've had this before several years ago. I liked it:
(draft) Very well-balanced ale, probably meant to be a copy of Newcastle Brown Ale, and it is a very good copy indeed. A little more malt than the Newcastle. Very drinkable.
Other than these two beers I stuck with Newcastle all night in-between nervous breakdowns.
This morning I made a wonderful discovery. There's a bar at the Rio that carries Alaskan Amber!!!
It's bottled instead of draft but still, what a pleasant surprise.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
(see previous entry for clarification of the above statement)
Without getting too specific, there's a lot more than the letter t making this:
It's pretty cold up there.
different from this:
It's pretty cold up here.
The bartender at The Tilted Kilt had to spray me down with the drink thingy to snap me out of my seizure.
Just to clear up some recent confusion:
ahhhhhhhhh: Wow I sure am relaxed now
aaaaaaaaah: I am freaking out!
awwwwwwwww: What a cute little kitty!
ohhhhhhhhh: I understand that now.
oooooooooh: That's really cool.
Keep this handy guide with you.
I've mentioned before some of the unusual searches that lead people to my site.
This morning I saw this Google search in my server logs:
Why does my cat hiss at me?
Typing this, I imagine, is some poor little girl, perhaps eight or nine.
It's just so sad. I hope her kitty still loves her.
Yesterday was not about beer, though there was a lot of beer consumed.
Yesterday was not about sleep deprivation, though I went about 30 hours without sleep.
Yesterday was not about Las Vegas, though I'm here.
Yesterday was about the fact that I couldn't stop laughing.
This is a new kind of insanity for me. My mood became so much better than it'd been for the past couple of weeks that the whole evening and night was like an extended emotional orgasm or something. I didn't want to go to sleep because I was afraid that the reality of the situation would somehow claw its way back to the surface of my mind.
Well I did sleep eventually, and while I'm no longer laughing, I'm still grinning.
Things are still gloomy, but they no longer threaten to completely obliterate me. Things are actually back to exactly what they were three weeks ago. The cruelty being directed at me was not coming from the person they pretended to be. At least that's the story and I'm sticking to it.
So I've managed to scramble back into the frying pan, and that's what yesterday was about for me.
There was beer involved too.
Most of my day and night consisted of a simple two-step dance:
1. Drink a couple of beers.
2. Try to get some sleep.
This dance repeated a half-dozen times, so I drank a lot of beers. I rotated between Newcastle, Smithwick's, and Guinness, and at one point had a Stella Artois. What crap. Here's my rating:
(draft) I asked for a Belgian and got this awful thing. I don't like lagers, and this was a pretty bad lager. Bland mixed with boring.
Now it's Sunday morning and I'm surprisingly not hung-over.
I'm sitting here second-guessing a decision made a couple of weeks ago, and second-guessing has become second-nature to me, so I'm back to normal I suppose.
As normal as I get anyway.
Just a quick entry to say I arrived in Las Vegas safely and I sit here more confused than ever.
This may be due in part to the fact that I had to wait four hours before I got my room assignment.
But only partly because of that.
I wish that was the whole reason.
After our Thanksgiving meal today we went out to the woods and shot up a car with a machine gun, of all things.
It was very cool, but I now know that I'm much better with the virtual machine gun in Half Life 2 than with a real one.
Rambo I'm definitely not.
In the movies the guy almost always wins the girl in the end.
Of course, he first has to deal with obstacles, mistrust, poor timing, and all manner of pitfalls, but in the end, some grand gesture will usually win her heart.
Then the credits roll and most everyone assumes that the couple will live happily ever after.
Not I.
I know that reality will soon set in, and that's when the real tests will begin.
This is the problem with grand gestures. The other person falls for it, not you. It's like some elaborate bait-and-switch scam. You fall in love with a person that only exists for a moment then, once that moment has passed, you're stuck in a relationship with a comparatively boring person.
What happened, you wonder, to the person that threw everything away to be with you? What happened to the person that serenaded you, that sent flowers to you at work, that walked through the desert to profess their love and bare their chest as if to say my heart is yours, you may do with it whatever you wish?
That person no longer exists. Born of a moment of passion and desperation, that person ceased to be the instant the moment had passed.
I've made a grand gesture a few times in the past. It's got me laid more than once (though that was not my sole intention), and it got me a relationship that lasted a few weeks.
It's also at times been met with rejection and scorn.
And there's the rub.
To put it all on the line of course means risking it all. This is scary enough, but to risk it all with a lie, with a grand gesture that, if successful, will shortly be held up as the standard by which the entire relationship will be measured - that strikes me as insane.
Then again, I guess love is a form of insanity.
Here we are again,
a couple of days from Thanksgiving,
perhaps my least favorite holiday,
probably because of the mall crowding that it begins each
year on the day after.
But I do like the holiday itself
in that I like to reflect and
ruminate on the things I'm
thankful for. I would probably like the
holiday more if I could spend it in solitude with no social
demands placed upon me. I
am aware that this makes me seem like a
yeti or some other antisocial creature.
Little is known about the yeti,
as it probably doesn't even exist except
perhaps to scare children into going
to bed. So in that way I'm not like the yeti
or any other legendary creature. Because
people don't generally use me to scare their children.
Godzilla or a goblin would be better. Well
it looks like I've almost
rambled on
long enough.
After I post this entry I'll bet that
nobody thinks it's clever and everybody will think it's
dumb.
Maybe people will just see the strange line lengths
and assume that it's some kind of a
new-age poem or something but only
young people write that kind of poetry and I'm too old.
My brain just doesn't provide a very creative
outlet for my deeper thoughts so I end up coming off as
retarded when I try so I hardly
ever try.
Saw this on another 'blog. It allowed me to kill some time.
Basics:
[Name] David Siltz
[Nickname] Dave
[Screen name] BarenadaSiltz
[Birthday] Feb 20
[Age] 39
[Astrological sign] Pisces
[Chinese zodiac sign?] Snake
[Location] Georgetown, IN
[Sexual Preference] Women
[Marital Status] Single
[Religion] Methodist if I had to pick one.
[Eye color] Blue
[Height] 5'8"
[Shoe size] 10
[Parents still together] Sort of. Until death did they part.
[Siblings] Two sisters.
[Nieces/Nephews] Three nephews, two nieces.
[Pets] Three cats.
[In school/graduated] A million years ago.
[What do you drive] Dodge Intrepid, Toyota Pickup, Monte Carlo SS.
Favorites:
[Color] Blue
[Number] 237
[Animal] Kitties!
[Vehicle] 1962 Corvette
[Flower] Orchid
[Scent] Jasmine
[Drinks] Good beer
[Soda] Diet Vanilla Coke
[Book] Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
[Band] Blues Traveller
[Song] Born to be Wild
Do you...
[Color your hair?] Nope
[Twirl your hair?] Nope
[Have tattoos?] Nope
[Have Piercings?] Nope
[Have a boyfriend/girlfriend/both?] Alone, so alone.
[Cheat on tests/homework?] Maybe a couple of times in junior high - just to speed things up.
[Drink/Smoke?] Yes
[ Like roller coasters?] Last time I got queasy but I liked them a lot as a kid.
[Wish you could live somewhere else?] Pretty content where I am. Would like to visit more places though.
[Want more piercings?] Nope
[Like cleaning?] Every now and them I like to straighten things up.
[Write in cursive or print?] Print
[Sweat a lot?] I guess a normal amount.
[Own a web cam?] Yes but it's not used.
[Know how to drive?] Yes. Duh.
[Diet?] Not intentionally.
[Own a cell phone?] Yes.
[Ever get off the computer?] Often.
Have you ever...
[Gotten a speeding ticket?] No
[Been in a wreck?] A few. One was my fault.
[Been arrested?] Sort of.
[Been in a fist fight?] Not really.
[Kicked someone in the nuts?] Not that I can remember.
[Stolen anything?] When I was ten.
[Held a gun?] Several.
[Drank?] Every weekend it seems.
[Been so drunk you couldn't remember your name?] I would pass out long before that happened.
[Considered a life of crime?] I'd be too afraid of being caught.
[Considered being a hooker?] Nope
[Cheated on someone? ] Nope
[Cried over a girl?] Yes.
[Cried over a boy?] Nope
[Lied to someone?] If I said "no" that would be lying and I'd have to change my answer to "yes" so yes.
[Been in love?] Yes I have.
[Fallen for your best friend?] One of my best friends.
[Made out with JUST a friend?] After that we weren't just friends anymore. Does that count?
[Been rejected?] Often
[Been in lust?] My hormones are functional.
[Used someone?] Sexually? No. Otherwise? I don't think so.
[Been used?] Sexually? Yes and I didn't mind. Otherwise? Yes and I minded very much.
[Been cheated on?] Too many times.
[Been kissed?] Yes.
[Experimented with homosexuality?] Nope
[Current mood] Frustrated paranoia.
[Current taste] of what?
[Current hair] Not quite military short.
[Current thing I ought to be doing] Working.
[Current cds in stereo] Several by Blues Traveller, Evanescence, Kelly Clarkson.
[Current crush] I'm way beyond that.
[Current job] Senior Technology Engineer. I usually just say "computer stuff."
The last time...
[Last book you read] The Time Traveller's Wife
[Last movie you saw] Rewatched Red Dawn the other day.
[Last thing you ate] Sportstime pizza last night.
Do you...
[Do drugs?] Nope
[Have a dream that keeps coming back?] This creepy Howdy Doody guy runs at me then I wake up.
[play an instrumant?] Nope
[believe there is life on other planets?] I think it's pretty likely.
[Remember your first love?] Yes.
[Still love him/her?] Nope.
[Read the newspaper?] Not very often.
[Have any gay or lesbian friends?] Several that I know of, a few that I suspect.
[Believe it's possible to remain faithful forever?] Yes.
[Consider yourself tolerant of others?] I'm intolerant of intolerance.
[Consider love a mistake?] That depends on the situation, it can certainly fuck things up.
[Have a favorite candy?] Twix Peanut Butter Bar.
[Believe in magic?] Stage magic, no way. Real-world magic, I guess I'm skeptical but open-minded.
[Believe in God?] His existence would surprise me very much.
[Do well in school?] I did.
[Go to or plan to go to college] Yes I did.
[Wear hats?] Not since my Air Force days except for the occasional baseball game.
[Hate yourself?] Nope, I'm cool.
[Have an obsession?] Shooting bank shots.
[secret crush?] Not secret anymore.
[Do they know yet?] I think the entire world knows by now.
[Collect anything?] Pool gadjets and books. Puzzles.
[Have a best friend?] More like a few interchangeable best friends.
[Close friends?] The same people.
[Like your handwriting?] I like my signature, but I can't read my own writing half the time.
[Care about looks?] I'm a bit hypocritical in that regard.
Love life
[First crush] Second grade. She cheated on me.
[First kiss] Don't remember. Isn't that sad?
[single or attached?] Single and vulnerable.
[Ever been in love?] Yes.
[Do you believe in love at first sight?] I believe in fascination at first sight..
[Do you believe in "the one?"] Nope. I believe in "the few."
[Describe your ideal significant other] Nice, smart, funny, caring, and attractive. I like brunettes in glasses.
Juicy stuff...
[Have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing?] Nope.
[Are you a tease?] Nope.
[Shy to make the first move?] At times, usually I guess.
Are you a...
[Wuss] Nope.
[Druggy] Nope.
[Daydreamer] In an insane fashion.
[Freak] I'm pretty normal and conservative.
[Dork] There's a little kid in me that I let out sometimes and he's pretty dorky.
[Bitch/A**hole] There have been moments, mostly unintentional.
[Brat] Nope
[Sarcastic] Yes
[Angel] Nope
[Devil] Nope
[Shy] Pretty much in a group. One-on-one I'm fine.
[Talkative] In a one-on-one conversation I'll talk forever.
[Flirty] No, but I've been doing it lately.
[Bisexual] Nope.
I've already mentioned that Saturday night we played a game called Loaded Questions. This is a game where everyone answers a question and the person whose turn it is has to try and guess who answered what. It's a fun game.
One of the questions that came up was What will you be doing in ten years?
I reflexively answered Kicking myself in the ass.
The more I think about it, the more I think I may have answered truthfully. But not for the things you may imagine. Not for the big things. It's the little things that nag at me.
The big, world-shattering mistakes I've made, painful and embarrassing as they were, are what made me what I am today.
Such as I am.
Once the initial discomfort has passed I no longer regret these far-reaching actions any more than I regret breathing.
There are, however, a whole bunch of little stupid and mean things I've done or said (or not done or not said) that I'd really like to forget.
I kick myself in the ass about what a jerk I was to that one girl back in eighth grade. She's certainly forgotten all about me by now, but I could have made her night a lot better than it was.
I kick myself in the ass about being so wrapped up with a new girlfriend that I let my all-time favorite waitress move away from Omaha without even a goodbye - let alone the hug I knew she wanted.
I kick myself in the ass for the way my friend Kelly and I used to turn on our friend Todd and make him go home crying.
Then there are the countless times that I've said the wrong thing to someone that I cared about and ended up starting a fight over it.
You know, I could probably go on for days, listing all of the times I was an asshole to someone. Every time I'm reminded of one of these incidents I'm a little embarrassed for myself. It's hard for me to accept that indeed I was that much of a prick, a shithead, an insensitive pig.
I think the thing is that I'm not that person, and I really never was. Those isolated incidents were just that: isolated. Just because I lied to a girl in the eighth grade doesn't make me a liar. Just because I hit a kid when I was five doesn't make me a bully.
Those things are not me. They're some other guy who's not nearly as nice as I am. I would never behave like that, although I have and probably will again.
The large-scale mistakes are another story entirely. I cannot shrug off the major fuck ups I've had. They are me, and without them I wouldn't be me. I'd be a happier person perhaps, a more content person certainly, but I'd also be so boring that even I couldn't stand to be around myself.
We learn from our mistakes as the saying goes. I wouldn't want to unlearn those lessons or erase those scars. They're me.
Those little things, though, I'll keep kicking myself in the ass over those. They piss me off.
Well I guess I've got my Las vegas after-work activities planned out.
Step one: Drink some Tilted Kilt.
Step two: Repeat.
If they don't have the (seasonal) Tilted Kilt I'll substitute Newcastle.
Any other activites, such as taking in some shows, seem just too daunting for me right now.
I'll be staying at The Rio, which does still have a couple of shows that I may decide to see.
One good thing about travelling alone is that I can buy single tickets to just about any show right at the last minute.
B-day greetz to my lil sister Dina, yo!
Last night several people came to my house for my sister Dina's pre-birthday party.
My beer selection was pretty straightforward: I had three and a half Mad Bitches and they messed me up. Good thing I didn't have to drive anywhere!
We played a game of Loaded Questions and I thought it'd be fun to post my responses here. Unfortunately I can't find my answer sheet so I'll have to go from memory. I know for a fact that I've forgotten at least two of my answers.
1. Calzone, pizza, garlic bread.
2. Socrates.
3. Steven Wright.
4. Scooby Doo.
5. Piano.
6. Alaskan oil drilling.
7. Garth Brooks.
8. Suburban sprawl fucking up what used to be pristine.
9. Beach Dork.
10. Wrist.
11. Snobby people.
12. F in wood shop.
13. The Fuzzy Wuzzy Kitty Store.
14. Kicking myself in the ass.
15. Don't watch commercials - I have TiVo!
16. Pool cues.
17. Ribbed condoms: for her pleasure.
18. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure
19. Jerk off with all ten penises at once.
20. September 11, 2001, 8:00 AM.
21. Chess.
22. VigilanteGirl.
23. Whip it out.
Three times.
That's how many times VigilanteGirl called me last night while I was at Rich O's. This makes a total of three times that she's ever called me. Our flirting has always been face-to-face, but now I'm wondering if we've graduated to phone flirting.
I spent the first part of the night at Rich O's standing around waiting for a seat to open up somewhere. I'm really starting to develop a selfish concern for the way Rich O's has been on Fridays lately. I mean, if the place becomes too hip and popular, the crowds of Spaten and Heineken and Corona drinkers will drive us regulars away. Or at least drive me away. I really wanted to leave right off the bat but RealTrainGirl and GreenBeerDude arrived and gave me something to do besides stand around and glare at all the strangers.
Finally, some strangers left the island area and we all grabbed seats. MisunderstoodGirl was with us too. The last time I saw her I kind of got a fuck you, asshole vibe from her, a vibe that I thankfully did not detect last night.
I finished my Mad Bitch at about the second time VigilanteGirl called, this time with an update on the goings-on at a really loud bar that I had no interest in going to. She hinted that her entourage might come down to Rich O's later so I decided to pace myself and therefore ordered an NABC Beak's Best.
After a while, my companions left for quieter pursuits and were replaced by ExBartender - not exactly an even trade but still a little better than sitting by myself would have been.
By the third time VigilanteGirl called, this time to tell me she was on her way, I'd switched to root beer.
By the time I'd finished my root beer another hour and a half had passed, and I was alone at the island.
I drove up to the loud bar, and saw nobody I knew there, so I went home and played Half Life 2 for a while.
I'd better start freaking out now. Maybe that way I can avoid a total meltdown later.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
One of the downsides to having a 'blog that people know about is...that people know about it.
Sometimes they even read it.
Sometimes they read a 'blog, decide that the person doing the writing is vulnerable, rebounding, or whatever, and that's when they make their move.
Somebody just made their move on me.
If this had happened a couple of months ago, things would be different indeed.
But as things stand now all this has done is confuse the issues tumbling around in my head.
Must...not...write...
No...body's...business...
Want...a...beer.
I may as well cover all the bases. These are what I see to be my top ten assets, in no particular order.
1. I'll put myself through torture rather than hurt someone I care about. The other person is always first.
2. I'm almost painfully honest. If you ask me a question you should be prepared for the answer I give. I will keep my mouth shut rather than lie.
3. I'm pretty good at putting myself into others' shoes, at least as far as I know about what they're going through.
4. I get along well with just about everyone.
5. I'm pretty funny at times, even when it's just in my own head.
6. If I care about you, you need to hurt me pretty badly before I'll ever say anything about it. No sense in two people feeling bad, I figure.
7. I believe there's good in almost everyone, and I don't rely on first impressions. You almost always get more chances with me.
8. My interests are wide-ranging enough that I can carry on a conversation with just about anyone.
9. When I screw up I realize it pretty quickly and I will freely admit to, and apologize for, my mistakes.
10. I enjoy my own company, so I must not be that bad.
To continue the theme of the preceding entry, here are my top ten flaws. Actually, these are flaws as others might see them. To me, they're just part of being me. Again, these are in no particular order except the order I thought of them in.
1. My standards for female attractiveness are waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too high for someone like me.
2. I use my high standards in an attempt to keep myself out of relationships, and therefore somewhat safe from harm.
3. At times, I've forgotten that respecting others' privacy is more important than telling an interesting story.
4. I don't take rejection, even inferred rejection, very well at all.
5. I have a strong desire to be liked by everyone, and if I disagree with what someone is saying I'll often keep quiet rather than express my own opinion. Then I'll find someone who shares my opinion and talk about how stupid the first person is.
6. I'm not very good at trusting others. I'm the jealous type, but I'll usually just fume internally instead of saying anything.
7. I'm often so uncomfortable in large groups that I'll either avoid them or stay as far off to the side as far as I can. To me, Thanksgiving dinner is one of the worst forms of torture.
8. I tend to see only the best or the worst in things and people around me, depending on my current mood. I have a hard time seeing things as a whole. I'm an optimistic during good times and a pessimist in bad times.
9. I often imagine a person being a certain way, then when they turn out differently, I treat it like it was a personal affront.
10. I cannot take a hint if I don't like what the hint suggests. Even if the hints are coming from myself.
Some time ago I read a good entry in another journal about quirks.
I thought, at the time, that it would make an interesting entry here, but then I figured that it would be stupid.
Well now I'm quite bored, so here goes, my top ten quirks, in no particular order:
1. I hate mayonnaise. Can't stand the stuff. Can't stand the smell, the taste, or even the sight of it. A few years ago I skipped an entire holiday meal because someone had let mayonnaise touch the turkey.
2. Pickle Juice. See the entry for mayonnaise and multiply times ten.
3. If I meet another car at an intersection, and they have the right of way, I will wait until the end of time for them to proceed. I've been known to shut off my car and get out and play cards on my hood before I'd let some idiot who doesn't know any traffic rules out-polite me.
4. If I'm at a bar or a party or wherever, and I get bored, I'll just get up and leave. Only rarely do I even bother to say goodbye to anyone. This is one reason that I normally like to go places alone - no having to wait around for the other person.
5. If you try to make small talk with me within an hour after I wake up you'll be on my shitlist for at least a week. These damn people at work their good mornings and their whattups, they have no idea how much I loathe them in the mornings.
6. If I'm in a group of three or more people, I will almost always shut up and just listen to everyone else. I'm not sure that it's really a quirk, maybe just more of a trait.
7. Unless it's someone I'm really comfortable with, I like to keep a personal space radius of at least five feet at all times. With some people I need ten feet. With some people a thousand miles doesn't seem like enough.
8. I feel most like myself when I'm pining away for someone that's way out of my league.
9. The weirdest thing I ever experienced still freaks me out on a regular basis, and I cannot tell anyone because it was just too damn weird and the only witness was my ex-wife and everybody would figure that I just made the whole thing up.
10. I usually assume that everybody is stupid until they show me otherwise. It's not that I think I'm all that smart, I just think everyone else is a dumbass. I don't count this as a flaw because it doesn't affect how I treat people. Some of my best friends are dumbasses.
(Edited to add a bonus eleventh quirk that someone just reminded me of.)
11. I have this Goldilocks syndrome where I cannot stay comfortable in a bed. I spend my nights wandering between beds and sofas. When I am in a bed I flop around like a dying fish.
I'm just so damn mean.
In my head at least. To others I think I'm usually a pretty nice person.
But in my head...damn.
The things that pop into my head, usually when I'm trying to be funny, would no doubt be met with jaws agape and maybe even slaps were I to ever utter them out loud.
Not yet, but just wait a few years.
Man, that is just an awful thing to think...
Funny, but awful.
In my hung-over state I forgot to write about this Saturday occurrence.
When I first arrived at Rich O's, I walked to the bar to order my first beer and talk with CoffeeDude for a bit.
Before I'd got two feet inside the door this girl sitting at the bar just started freaking out.
That's him! That's the guy! He's right there! I can't believe it! Hey Dave, over here! How are you!
Finally, the recognition I deserved. She was waving and bouncing up and down and I wouldn't be surprised if she wet herself a little.
This moderately attractive (I like brunettes in glasses) girl was as happy to see me as anyone has ever been - even more so than WendysLady. The problem was, I didn't have the slightest idea who in the hell she was.
I scanned my memory of my slightly checkered past, and found nothing. She did look familiar but I just couldn't place who she was.
Well as it turned out, this girl was a friend of one of my sisters, and I had actually met her a couple of times before.
What got GlassesGirl so excited was that she had just been talking to someone about my sister, and in particular my sister's Renaissance Faire obsession, when I walked in.
There I was, living proof that my sister existed and, by extension, proof that there really are people in the world that travel around trying to out-geek each other by dressing up in garb and saying aye and huzzah all the time.
When I was a kid, maybe eight or nine years old, the neighbors across the street had this dog for a while.
The dog would bark constantly, and Mr. Hill would beat the dog. Then the dog would start yelping, and Mr. Hill would beat the dog some more.
I couldn't do anything about it (I was just a kid after all) but I do remember that somebody called the police one time and eventually somebody came and took the dog away.
One thing that's really vivid in my memory is that, even though Mr. Hill would beat the dog nearly every day, the dog would still get all excited and happy when Mr. Hill came home from work. He'd wag his tail so hard his whole body shook, and jump up against the truck door. He just couldn't wait for Mr. Hill to pay attention to him.
The dog had to know that he was going to be abused, but he didn't care. He still loved Mr. Hill and he seemed ever-hopeful that things would be different this time.
I remember hoping that the dog would fight back someday. Perhaps growl at Mr. Hill or maybe even bite him, but he never did.
That abuse was the only attention the dog ever got, and I supposed he had decided, in his little doggy mind, that if his purpose in life was to be a punching bag for Mr. Hill, then so be it. He'd be the bestest, most loyalest punching bag ever!
Even though I thought I understood what was going on in the dog's mind, I still thought it was pretty stupid. I knew I'd never let somebody abuse me like that. I knew I was smarter than a dog, after all!
Even if I can't fight back, I'm at least smart enough to run away.
Eventually.
Friday night sucked. The place was full of idiots that refused to move from the living room area. The only place to sit was the kiddie table, so I sat there and glared at the idiots while I drank first an NABC Tunnel Vision and then a Mad Bitch. I suppose the most interesting thing that happened was that one of the idiots ate an entire calzone, then he ate his girlfriend's calzone, then he ordered and ate an entire thing of lasagna.
Saturday night was much better. Rich O's was only moderately crowded and I was able to grab a seat on the couch pretty quickly.
I had a Robert the Bruce. I've had this before and I like it a lot. Next I had an Avery Old Jubilation, which tastes like a spiced ale to me (in a good way) but I'm told there's really no spice in it. Just a mix of hops. A pretty good beer though.
Throughout the night I spent much of my time feeling bad for a very cute, very unfortunately-named girl who was serving as a designated driver for her brother and another guy that may have been her boyfriend. The poor girl had to sit and watch her charges drink beer after beer and eat pretzel after pretzel while she wasn't offered a single thing. I tried to help ease her boredom by carrying on a mostly one-sided conversation.
I thought this was interesting. The boyfriend(?) has the same birthday that I do, and the unfortunately-named girl has the same birthday as my sister Dina.
Anyway, I should have stopped after the Avery, but I wasn't ready to leave, so I ordered a Tunnel Vision and only got about halfway through it before the alcohol timebomb inside me went off. I raced home and nuked some White Castles and then played pool all night.
Step one: Tell him you'll call him back.
Step two: I don't like this game, and I'm not going to play it anymore.
Today, like most days for the past few weeks, I've spent at least part of the time feeling sorry for myself.
I got to thinking about just why this is.
How did I end up this way?
I'm not wondering about the recent events that have me in such turmoil. Instead, today I'm wondering about the events in my life that made me into this goofball I see in the mirror. This goofball that's been so affected by these events.
How did I end up to be this person that I am, this person that controlled the keys to his own happiness for over a decade, then out of the blue just pitched them to a person that didn't asked for them, didn't expect them, and didn't want them?
A year ago, I could tell you exactly how I came to be. A year ago it all made perfect sense. A life made up of a series of rejections and betrayals and loss had caused me to wall myself in - to pretend that I didn't need anyone besides myself, that I was perfectly content on my own.
I did such a good job of pretending that it all came true. I didn't need anyone else. I was perfectly content.
What the hell happened?
If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be writing an entry like this today I'd have laughed in their face. Pretty much like a certain relative of mine laughed when I stupidly thought he'd be a good person to confide in.
Part of me still wants to laugh. It's all just so absurd.
In a moment of weakness and/or drunkenness I pitched my keys at someone who had their back turned.
They landed on the ground instead, and on the ground they still sit. Mocking me.
(response to message)
Why thank, you. I am feeling better today and even went back to work.
An image I actually rendered on Tuesday but didn't publish until tonight.
I've been sick.
(response to message)
I think that's interesting because I spent the last few years of my Seattle time missing New Albany and feeling stranded in Washington.
Rich O's is awesome though, so we agree on that much. Look me up there sometime - we'll compare notes.
I miss The Mountain.
My sister's fiance has this truck that cracks me up.
It's a Dodge, extended cab, dually wheeled, long bed monster that will come in quite handy if he ever needs to, I don't know, maybe tow my sister's house a few feet to the right or something.
Watching him pull into my driveway yesterday was like watching the Queen Mary pull into port.
Right off the bat, I need to make one thing perfectly clear.
This was all my fault. She did nothing wrong. She was always a lady. She was the perfect wife.
She just wasn't my wife.
She was married to one of my best friends. A friend who trusted me enough to ask me to keep his wife company while he was away serving our country.
It still amazes me how quickly it all happened.
For months I kept my word to my friend and, in the process, gained an even stronger friendship. For months we talked and hung out and drank and smoked together. It was the best period of my life.
Then it started. A nagging little feeling in my heart that began to grow each time we were together.
I tried to shake it off. I told myself that there was no way I could have those kinds of feelings for someone I'd never even kissed. There was no way I could betray a friendship (two friendships!) like that. I kept telling myself that it wasn't real, that it was just a phase.
I was kidding myself, and I knew it.
I'd been trusted with that which my friend prized most in the world, and, even if it was in mind only, I'd betrayed that trust. I had to get away before my terrible secret was exposed.
Those last few weeks when I rushed my Air Force discharge through, and prepared to move away - those weeks took all of the willpower I had in me. If I could just keep my feelings to myself for a little while longer, if I could just get the hell away before I blurted them out in some drunken soliloquy, I could limit the pain to myself.
It hurt to leave, but it would have hurt far more to stay. My betrayal would never have become our betrayal, and it was only a matter of time before my secret would be exposed or guessed.
For a while, after I left, we wrote each other. I even went to visit once, partly as a friend, but mostly to see if my feelings remained.
They did.
Once I returned to Seattle, I told her in a letter. I told her the words I'd only told - and meant it - two women before her. I thought she deserved a reason for what came next...
Later in the same letter, I told her goodbye.
Ours was a relationship based on sex.
What a strange realization that was!
I was freshly off my marriage, she was - well I'm not quite sure what her story was. She was looking for a place to stay for a while. Whatever, I figured there was a breakup in her recent past as well.
A place to sleep became a person to talk to became somebody to hold me became God I need an orgasm so bad I can't stand it!
I was there to provide all those things. She in turn helped me to get through what was, at the time, the toughest trial I'd ever faced.
For several weeks we led completely separate lives. I had my work and my pool league. She had her work and whatever it was she did after work. Our lives did not touch each other's at all - except at home. In bed. Our fumbling attempts to fill the gaping holes in our relationship only proved how completely different we were.
When the bills started getting too high and I had to move to a cheaper place she didn't come with me. We didn't even discuss it. We both knew that it was time to move on, to get on with our lives.
A couple of years later I saw her at a convenience store. I was with my ex-wife, in the middle of my second and final disastrous attempt to build a life with her. She was alone, but several months pregnant. We exchanged phone numbers but that was just for show. Just to be polite and to pretend that we had our shit together.
I can't even remember her last name.
I did an awful lot of driving around town this weekend.
On Saturday I managed to get myself totally lost twice while trying to retrace a shortcut I was shown a while ago. I had no luck except that I nearly freaked out when I thought I saw a familiar car in a driveway.
On Sunday I found myself back in Lanesville. I usually make it down there every month or so. I'll drive up to the old house at the top of the hill, hoping to see someone out in the yard.
"Hi, I have home movies of your house being built," I'll say. "Let me and my sister come in and snoop around and I'll make you a copy."
In the 25 years the I've been doing this, I've never seen a single person outside.
I've also never got up the nerve to actually knock on the door, though a friend of mine did just that a few months ago to no avail.
Anyway, yesterday there was something very different about the old neighborhood.
The house that had sat behind my old house for nearly 40 years was gone. Only a foundation and a pile of rubble remained.
I saw some sk8er boiz down by the school and I asked them what had happened to the house.
"It burned a few weeks ago," one of the kidz conceded.
Pretty weird to see just a pile of rubble where my best friend Kelly used to live.
George Bush, as the Republicans keep saying over and over and over, got more votes than any presidential candidate in U.S. history.
This is certainly true, but who has received the second most votes?
John Kerry.
It's called voter turnout, people, and guess what? More voters means more votes.
George Bush not only got more votes for him than anyone in history, he also got more votes against him than anyone in history besides Kerry.
Bragging about popular votes is like bragging about how the 2004 Superbowl had (guessing here) 10 times more viewers than the 1967 airing.
It means nothing except that you're a dumbass.
Resolve is a funny thing. And by funny I mean it's a joke. Especially when it comes to ending relationships.
It starts out strong. The very word is synonymous with decidedness and determination. Yet no matter how firm it seems it can vanish in the blink of an eye.
The smile of a face, the ring of a phone, a tear, or simply the mind's simple tendency to focus on the good in a relationship, can cause a bad relationship to continue well beyond its useful lifespan.
I knew for a long time that we wouldn't last. For the better part of a year I fought within myself two conflicting urges. Two conflicting resolutions.
Would I honor my commitment to make it work, no matter how hard it seemed, and regardless of her own (lack of) effort?
Or would I take the easier way out and allow a relationship that was already dying to finally end?
Let's face it - there's a little martyr in all of us. Which is more noble, to quietly suffer mistreatment or to get the hell away from it? The latter may be the correct action but it doesn't always seem that way.
I quietly suffered for a long time. I decided to break it off more times than I can count. On those occasions when I actually tried to break it off, all it took was tear, or a promise, and my resolve would evaporate again.
To reuse a metaphor from a previous entry, would I stay on that ledge forever, or would I just fucking jump already?
Eventually I jumped. Or maybe I was pushed. Whatever actually happened I know for sure it was a snap decision and had nothing to do with resolve on anyone's part.
Step one: Say you'll call him later.
Step two: There is no step two.
Just thought I'd get both Friday and Saturday out of the way with one entry.
Friday night was boring. I had an NABC Tunnel Vision and an NABC Beak's Best. The night was a complete bust as far as conversation went. Nobody I knew was there, and nobody called.
Tonight (Saturday) it was equally boring at Rich O's. The only person I knew was ExBartender and he was in full-blown obnoxious node.
I had a Delerium Nocturnum first. Here's what I thought of it:
(bottle) Very dark, very fruity aroma. Taste reminded me of cherry wine. The second half of my glass - once the head had dissipated - was much better than the first half.
Next I had a Gulden Draak.
(draft) My first tasting of this rather famous Belgian. Not at all what I was expecting. I got a lot of fruit that I'll call raspberry. Too sweet for my taste.
The entire time spent at Rich O's was pretty much a waste of time. I left at around 10:00. This is what happens when you base your happiness on a single possibility, and that possibility doesn't pan out.
I will shut up now.
I've been trying to plan out my Las Vegas trip and I just can't make up my mind what to do.
I'm torn between just going to see O and/or Mystere again or seeing some completely new shows.
Wow, this was sure an exciting entry.
I'd better pace myself or I'll have nothing left for the weekend.
Eric and I just finished cutting some wood flooring.
This was the maybe the second time that my new table saw, bought in the Spring, has ever been used.
Apparently there were all of these little adjustments that should have been made before any cutting was done, but to know that I would have had to actually read the owner's manual.
Like I have time for that. It would seriously cut into my busy schedule of watching TV and going to the bar.
I've got this tradition that I try to do every New Year's Eve.
Every year since my divorce I've been alone on December 31st. And by alone I mean in a spiritual/romantic sense. I simply take that one step further and become alone physically as well. I'll walk out of the party, or the bar, or even my own home, and just get a little privacy.
Only twice since 1991 have I had to change that tradition. As 1996 arrived I was followed out of the bar by a very sweet girl who wanted to give me (and be) my first kiss of the new year. When 1999 turned into 2000 I had several people at my house and we went out on the deck and popped these little bottle-shaped plastic thingies that shot streamers out.
On every other New Year's Eve that time between 11:55 and 12:05 has been my own. I like to reflect on all that's happened in the old year, imagine all that might happen in the new year, and just generally relax and let my thoughts flow.
I'll usually give each year an informal grading - 1991 and 1992 were very good years, 1995 and 1998 were very bad - that kind of thing. I try to be fair. I try to remember everything important (good or bad) that's happened, not just those things that are still fresh in my mind.
I do this on New Year's Eve because it provides a fairly obvious division between time frames. I suppose my birthday would serve just as well. Dates that I can point to on a calendar and say "On this day I noted the end of one era and the beginning of another."
On December 31st, 2004, I expect to be alone again, and I expect I'll seek some privacy, when the time comes, to say goodbye to the old year and welcome the new year as I've become accustomed.
This year though, there'll be something different. I not only expect to be alone as the new year arrives, I expect to feel alone as well. This will be something new for me.
I've always been quite able to enjoy the pleasure of my own company - In many ways I've preferred it.
This year will be different. There will be an emptiness accompanying me outside, and I have to say I'm not looking forward to the uncomfortable silence between us.
I will welcome the new year though, as I've welcomed them all. I don't yet know what grade I'll give the year 2004 but it'll certainly get an "A" for effort.
Actually the grading isn't really important. The important part is the serious reflection. The grade is just the end to the more important means.
So why am I writing this entry now, on November 4th, instead of waiting for late December like a sane person?
Because New Year's Eve is man-made. It has no more significance than any other night except that which we give it.
Sometime during the past few weeks I passed a milestone that out milestones anything that an artificial holiday nearly two months away could ever do.
I've seen great changes both externally and internally, and reflecting on these changes has made me (painfully at times) quite aware that this Fall is indeed the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.
Whether it's marked the beginning of a new emotional growth spurt, or simply the end of my sanity, that remains to be seen. All I know is that this is important and I will give it the consideration it deserves.
So tonight, when normal people are getting ready for bed, I'll be out on my deck.
Remembering.
Anticipating.
Just enjoying my own company for a while.
Tomorrow I'll start a new era. One that will encompass its own events. One that will probably, for a while at least, look an awful lot like the era it replaces.
After that, who knows what will happen?
I think - I'm too lazy to actually confirm this, but I think - that my entries have been following a weekly cycle.
On the weekends it's pretty much drunken ramblings. I think this is when my true personality appears. Whether this is a good or a bad thing is left as an exercise to the reader.
Early in the work week I tend to be a little more contemplative and so I imagine the bullshit in my 'blog gets piled a little deeper as I try to translate my thoughts to words.
Late in the week, like tonight, I start to feel apprehensive about the upcoming days so my entries probably take on a more nervous and rambling quality.
Basically, I'm coasting. Spending the week either rehashing the previous weekend or anticipating the next one. I'm seriously stuck in the triangle that TallLady and I have discussed. The one that consists of work, home, and Rich O's.
Well maybe stuck is the wrong word. I'm actually fairly content with things as they are right now. I have little to look forward to anymore, but I also have little to fear. I'm no longer bound to the commitments and the restrictions that until lately I'd been forcing on myself.
I could break out of the triangle.
I just don't want to.
I kind of feel like I've been babbling a lot here lately.
Oh, I pretty much always babble in real life, so I suppose I shouldn't be too concerned when that tendency shows up in my 'blog, but dammit, I do have things to say and I'd like to be able to say them with at least a modicum of eloquence.
Part of the reason for my recent dissatisfaction is that I've been reading a lot of other 'blogs online lately. There are some very good writers out there, and I suppose I've been feeling a little humbled. I need only go here or here or here (the latter being the 'blog of probably the prettiest girl I've ever seen) and I end up feeling like a mildly-retarded blind child. Writing with a crayon. Using the wrong hand. Underwater. While Drunk.
Another thing that's been holding me back... The number one thing on my mind remains the same and I'm unwilling and/or unable to expound on it any more than I already have. You people sneaking around with your e-mails and such will need to find some other cheap means of entertainment for a while. I have reached a point where there's nothing new that I care to say on the subject.
Finally, I suppose that the number one reason I've been babbling a lot lately is because that's what my brain has been doing. If I cannot hold a particular thought or idea in my head for more than a few minutes it's kind of hard to get it all typed up nice and pretty.
Just a short entry to say that I'm shocked at how lopsided all of the one man, one woman referendums turned out last night.
I think there's a huge difference between true morality and what I call biblical morality.
To me, two of the most important hallmarks of true morality are tolerance and acceptance, I'm really surprised that, as a nation, we're still so high and mighty when it comes to things like this.
I truly thought people had grown. I know I have.
I guess I just got lucky.
(crossposted to the pool 'blog)
To properly experience election night, I've decided to watch the returns in the basement while I play pool.
I will pretend that it's Bush vs. Kerry.
While playing as Kerry, I will alternate between left and right handed play, and I will always choose the most complicated route to the pocket.
While playing as Bush, I will keep my eyes closed and blast everything as hard as I can.
I don't understand what's so fascinating about August, September, and October.
I have over a year's worth of entries yet you only read the last three months.
The interesting stuff started way before then.
wea-ry
adj.
1. Physically or mentally fatigued.
wea-ried
v.
1. To make or become weary.
Thanks for sort of clearing that up.
The word "careful" has been such an unspoken motto of mine that I should probably have it tatooed on my chest.
That motto has kept me safe and sane for several years but I fear it may have lost its power recently.
I'll do the best I can.
(I'm still intrigued about the e-mail though.)
Last night marked the second Halloween in a row in which I had zero trick-or-treat visitors.
Maybe it's the black stray cat that's taken up residence on my porch.
Maybe the kids are afraid of that spooky old man Siltz.
But I really don't think it's either of those reasons.
I think the kids are all in the subdivisions and apartment complexes.
That's fine though. More candy for me.
Moohaha.
One of two things has just happened. Either I've been threatened, or I've been given the most obvious and unnecessary advice ever.
The wording of the message I received is a little ambiguous as to which is the actual case.
The basic gist of the message was Be careful.
I don?t know if the or else was intentionally implied or not.
This little mystery that I've been perplexing over since yesterday certainly seems to have taken an interesting turn.
My question to you, oh anonymous Internet comrade and/or foe, is this: What was the damn e-mail about?
You obviously know me (you used the secret word) yet you don't seem to know me that well - for you're making the same basic assumptions that everyone else that doesn't know me that well has been making.
I've managed to be in a good mood for two days straight and so I'm going to end this a little abruptly.
Feel free to send another message via my form thingy or *gasp* an actual e-mail. Call if you know the number. I welcome discussion on this - it's cheaper than therapy and I just might learn something.
