Well, not really. But when I saw all of the rice in the parking lot at my old high school Sunday I did get a little sad for the future.

My niece Bethany graduated Sunday. This strikes me as odd because she's only eight or nine as far as I'm concerned. And she'll stay that way dammit!

That's her looking at the camera.

The graduation festivities were, as I pretty much expected, quite boring except for those brief seconds when (a) Bethany came in with all the other Seniors, (b) Bethany got her diploma, and (c) Some particularly hot girl passed by.

That last point does not mean that I'm a pervert. It means that I'm a dirty old man.

Huge difference. Dirty old men have the same fantasies that men throughout time have had. Perverts risk getting sent to Federal Pound Me In The Ass prison.

So the nice thing about attending a high school graduation is this: If they're graduating, it's a pretty damn safe bet that they're 18 years old and therefore not jailbait. This is important to me because I've often had a hard time deciding who is stare-worthy and who is just a cute kid.

Like every time I go to Polly's Freeze.

Bethany was the first of any of my sisters' kids to graduate. In two years Dina's son Cory will follow his sister into adulthood, then my sister Neisha's kids Devynne and Logan, then finally Dina's youngest son Gehrid.

By the time Gehrid graduates I expect I'll be too old to ogle the pretty girls.

Just seeing if anyone notices.

(update: Well that didn't take long. I've changed it back. If you don't know what I'm talking about, click here. Hard to tell I guess, but those are gorilla eyes. It's surprisingly hard to find a good picture of a gorilla looking straight at the camera.)

(I'm putting this in the travel category because I kind of felt like a tourist.)

Saturday night I was irritated. The girl at the Gas'N'Stuff had put me in a bad mood, and I never really got a chance to improve my mood because my fucking phone kept vibrating.

That's how my Saturday night went. Pleasant conversations at Rich O's interrupted every half-hour by MixedSignalGirl calling or texting me about how pissed she was at me for what happened in Las Vegas.

Because I'm such a selfish asshole, I didn't return any of the calls until this morning.

Because I'm not a complete selfish asshole, I called her right after I woke up.

To make a very long story short, we agreed to meet up at this place called Sully's for dinner so we could, once again, hash things out and, once again, decide that we are completely wrong for each other and/or our timing sucks.

LaptopGirl used to call this place Fourth Street Dive but I actually kind of like it. It reminds me a little bit of Fremont Street in Las Vegas. There are good bars and lots of neon. Pretty damn cool for Louisville if you ask me.

I arrived at Sully's about five minutes late, and had myself a Smithwick's. I'm really really starting to like this beer. It just goes down smooth. I feel like I could drink it all night.

I like the layout of this Sully's place. A long and narrow room with a bar running the length of one wall and tables and booths for eating scattered about. The entire wall opposite the bar was glass so we could see out into the street.

MixedSignalGirl arrived about a half-hour late, and I suppose I should say that if she was late because she was busy making herself up, then it was worth it. I've never seen her look so pretty.

So despite the near-frantic calls Saturday night, she decided tonight to completely ignore the burning issue of her being pissed and we proceeded to have a fairly standard date. I had a burger and fries that were very good and she had some chicken fingers and fries. We mostly just talked about how cool the bar and Fourth Street Live was, and how it'd be nice if they did something like it in New Albany.

Eventually our conversation became more serious and I'm not going to get into it here except to reiterate what I told her, more or less:

I'm very sorry that you were hurt. I've never meant to cause you any pain at all. I really didn't think you'd care. We broke up months ago, and you told me you were doing fine. I told you that I wasn't ready for a relationship, and that's still true. What happened in Las Vegas was a simple one night stand. I don't even have her number, and I don't expect to hear from her again. It was not about you, or because of you, or in spite of you. I wasn't about anyone. Just two people that happened to hit it off and decided to enjoy each other with no strings or baggage to worry about.

During all this I had myself another Smithwick's. MixedSignalGirl was drinking some foofoo thing that was green and brown.

Once we left Sully's we went briefly to the Red Star Saloon and then into the Hard Rock where I bought us t-shirts, then we went to this place called The Pub.

This was another very nice bar. They also had a pretty impressive draft beer selection. I had myself a four-beer sampler:

Whitbread English Ale

(draft) No head at all, but somehow managed to have very good lacing. A hint of caramel in the flavor. A slightly lagerish finish but not too fizzy. Not bad at all.

Young's Double Chocolate Stout

(draft) Good head, good lacing. Subtle chocolate aroma and more subtle chocolate flavor. Nothing else to distinguish it at all. It did kind of grow on me though.

Black Sheep Monty Python's Holy Grail

(draft) No head. No aroma, No flavor. A very dry and fizzy mouthfeel. Probably good for an upset stomach but little else.

Tetley's English Ale

(draft) Good lacing. No detectable aroma, flavor, or aftertaste. There was just a hint of bitterness that faded before swallowing was complete. Not bad, but very boring.

So the beer, while new to me, turned out to be pretty boring. I'd like to try the Young's again someday though. It was intriguing. This place had at least a half-dozen other beers that I've never seen on tap at Rich O's, but I think most of them were IPAs so I wasn't interested.

At The Pub I bought another t-shirt. The staff was all wearing shirts with the bar's logo on the front and different bits of English culture on the back:

• Bollocks!
• Abbey Road
• Another pint, love? (Something like that anyway)
• Piss off! (I really wanted this one)
• Wanker! (MixedSignalGirl made me get this one)

We ended up having a pretty good night together, getting along great. That was never our problem when we were together. Our problem was that at different times one or both of us would have our minds someplace else or with someone else. We were always just using each other as placeholders, as safe havens against the unknown, as crutches to help us get through the tough times.

Tonight, we said goodbye and once again went our separate ways. I hope I managed to smooth things over a little. I think I did. She's very sweet, and her feelings are important to me. It's just that, like I've said before, those things she sees in me are not meant for her. In the end, I have to be true to myself. I cannot lie my way through a relationship. It wouldn't be fair to either of us.

I will, however, admit that I've often caught myself imagining a deeper relationship with MixedSignalGirl. Hell, I caught myself doing it tonight. I see in her eyes something I haven't seen in many others - genuine affection. For me of all people. But I also see something else. My own eyes reflected within hers. That's what gives me pause and reminds me that there's a reason we're not together.

My own eyes remain focused a million miles away.

(I'm going to update this to say that there are real reasons that things would never work out for us. It's not all because I'm insane. We both know what those reasons are, and I'm not going to get into them here. Hell, I wouldn't have even written about tonight if she hadn't asked me to.)

Tonight I wrote down my URL for this chick at Rich O's. We'd been talking about writing and somebody had told her that I have a 'blog.

Even though I told her that everything except some entries in the ramblings and the peril categories is boring and stupid, I'm now feeling a little bit of pressure to write something halfway decent.

That way it will at least look like I'm still capable of a coherent thought every now and then.

The problem is, I've got nothing. So I'll just write about my day, such as it was.

After I washed my car Koko and I went over to Polly's for lunch.

After that I went down to my cousin Mike's new house to check it out. Not exactly a castle, but it's not like he needs anything special. It's certainly got to be better than living with his parents has been these past few months.

After my late afternoon nap I stopped to see VigilanteGirl. Now it looks like she won't be changing jobs. I have mixed emotions about this. I mean I'm glad that I'll still be able to see her on a regular basis, but I know I should feel bad because I know she was looking forward to making more money and having her weekends off. This is just another example of me being a selfish bastard I guess.

This one chick at the Gas'N'Stuff gave me shit about being in there three times today. I have no idea what that was all about. For one thing, I was only in there twice. For another thing, it's a fucking convenience store. You're supposed to go there when it's convenient for you, not when it's convenient for the people working there. For another thing, it's none of her fucking business how many times I go in there. So now I'm afraid that I may have another person to avoid at that store. The first one I don't think works there anymore.

I got to Rich O's and for a few minutes I was literally the only customer there. In the bar proper I mean I think there were a couple of people out in the front room. I talked briefly with NotGeorge on the phone and basically told him to hurry up if he was coming because it looked like the place would be closing soon.

Let's see, I took it easy on the beer tonight. All I had were some Smithwick's and some Guinnesses (Guinni?). Spent some time talking with NotGeorge, ClownGirl, Bubbles, DisgustingMakeoutCouple, and the aforementioned chick.

At one point everyone else had gone and I found myself talking with AforementionedGirl about my 'blog and how 99% of it is crap, and 99% of the semi-good stuff is about you know who and how fucked up I am and/or was about her. I ended up writing my URL down for some reason.

I'm going to stop writing this entry now. I've got an idea for a new entry though. Maybe tomorrow I'll write about signals if I can figure out a way to keep it fairly generic.

Drove my Monte Carlo to work the other day and birds used it for shit target practice.

So this morning, instead of taking it to the brushless car wash like I usually do, I decided to really baby the thing and do a complete hand washing.

So now it's completely clean - no bugs, dirt, or bird shit - but it looks like crap because of all the water spots left on it.

This is what I get for having a black car, but I thought the water softener I bought last year was supposed to reduce or eliminate the water spots.

Guess not. Once it gets dark the car will look great though.

(update: While the car was parked at my cousin Mike's new house birds used it as a toilet again.)

Friday night at Rich O's was fairly crowded, but I guess it wasn't too bad because I actually got to park in the main parking lost - first time that's happened on a Friday in months.

I ended up sitting on the throne and having a pretty tame night.

My first beer was this:

La Rulles Triple

(draft) A fairly standard tasting tripel. Perhaps a little more citrus than I'd prefer, but very drinkable.

There were some PBDs that I sort of know sitting around me, and ExBartender and CoffeeDude were around as well. I stayed pretty quiet.

One of the PBDs was drinking a Chouffe Bok, and, based on his recommendation, that's what I had next.

Chouffe Bok 6666

(draft 2002 vintage) A nice reddish-brown. Had a fruit component that wasn't the apples I'm used to from Belgians. I'm going to call the flavor a mix of cherries and beets. Not too bad, but not worth a second glass.

RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl came in. They'd got new call phones with cameras in them but it looks like we cannot send pictures between us. I guess Sprint and Verizon are not playing well together. I text-messaged a couple of people to have them try to send a picture to my phone but none of the people I tried have camera phones. Oh well.

Any of you faithful readers out there want to try go head and contact me via e-mail or the message form at the side of the page. I'll respond with my cell phone number.

(update: A few people have managed to send pictures to my cell phone. None of them have been with Verizon though.)

Just put in a new function to display random 'blog entries.

It's not (right now anyway) available on my home page, but if you go to any of the 'blog pages that list the monthly archive links, right above them is a new link labelled random.

This link will, duh, display a random entry from the appropriate 'blog.

Here's a link to a random entry in the main 'blog just so you see what I mean.

We had this work thing today at Louisville's Fourth Street Live. Specifically at the Lucky Strike bowling lanes and the poolhall Felt.

I suppose that, as these offsite meetings go, this one was okay. I can always think of about a zillion real things I could be working on instead of attending these day-long meetings.

During the lunch break several people grabbed a pool table and started playing 8-ball amongst themselves. I got my own table and started banking balls in. Even with the crappy house cue, the dismal lighting, the large stains on the cloth consisting of I don't want to know what, and the fact that the entire table leaned heavily to one side, I found that it's surprisingly difficult to miss a bank shot on an eight foot table.

Most of the people that know me at work know that I'm a pool player, and that I'm a pretty good one. I'm not sure that they grasp just how good compared to them, or that if there was any money in it at all for a player at my level I'd hang up my keyboard and make my living doing something I love instead of something I merely enjoy.

I heard some people talking today, making little comments about how I was playing by myself and wondering if everyone was just too scared to play me. These comments were all made jokingly and everybody got a good laugh out of it, including me. But nobody came over to my table.

If all they're wanting is a chance to win, then they did well to stay away. If winning is what's most important to them, they shouldn't get within ten feet of me and a pool table.

I understand the desire to win. I've seen it often enough, felt it often enough. I just never let it take away from the simple enjoyment of playing. Those times when I found myself outmatched and I lost, I still enjoyed every minute of it. Those times when I knew going in that I wasn't likely to win - I still played. To avoid the competition because of a fear of losing - what's the fun in that?

Maybe part of the reason for my ability to enjoy myself is that I've generally been pretty good at whatever I do. Better than average I guess you could say.

Darts. Horseshoes. Shooting baskets. Bowling.

Bowling was the team-building portion of the offsite meeting. We split up into teams and bowled all these crazy frames; opposite handed, granny style, backwards granny style, blindfolded, etc.

Those were the odd-numbered frames. The even-numbered frames were real bowling.

Back when I was in the Air Force, we'd take a Friday off each month and just go bowl together. We always had a lot of fun, even without all of the goofy-assed odd-numbered frame restrictions. I wish we'd done that today. Just bowled.

So I scored a 91. My even-numbered frames probably made up 75 of those points. My odd-numbered frames were fairly useless. If I'm figuring things correctly I'd have bowled a 165 or so if the whole game had been normal bowling. I used to average about 185 in my Air Force days, but I'd certainly take a 165 considering how I've bowled about 10 games in the last 13 years.

I mentioned a while back that this Lucky Strike place has Smithwick's on tap. I had two, and they were delicious. Everybody else was using their drink tickets to get drinks made with our company's products, but I paid for my own beer. People told me that I should use my drink tickets - nobody would care - but I would care so I bought my own beers.

Just wanted to write something today. This is a pretty boring entry I guess.

Oh yeah I stopped at Rich O's on the way home and had a Spezial Rauchbier. Tried to text-message RealTrainGirl to see if she was stopping by but got no answer.

So not the best of days for me.

It shows up nearly every day after work. I sit at Rich O's and have myself a beer. My thoughts start to wander.

They always head in the same direction, during those times when I'm halfway between my work life and my home life. When I've let my mind relax for the first time all day. My thoughts start to wander and before I know it this gorilla is right there next to me again.

The last few weeks have been better though. It hasn't seemed quite so obnoxious. I don't know if I've become more accustomed to its presence or if I've just gotten better at ignoring it. Hardly noticed it at all while I was in Las Vegas. That was a great relief.

Today was a bad day. It kept waving my phone in my face, urging me to do that which I cannot do.

Must. Not. Do.

It's standing behind me now, tapping me on the shoulder, grunting in my ear. Tonight all it wants is attention. I can acknowledge it and perhaps pet it a little, just let it know that I haven't forgotten about it. I can handle nights like this.

It's those times, like this evening after work, times when simple attention is not enough - those times are tough. The toughest was that night a few weeks ago when I tried to kill it. In a moment of total desperation I used my secret weapon and tried to completely destroy this pitiful thing that meant no harm to me at all, this wretched manifestation of my own emotions.

I tried to destroy it, but it turned out to be stronger, much stronger, than I'd feared. It heard the words that were supposed to kill it and instead they just bounced off. My most powerful weapon, my most potent poison, had no effect on it whatsoever.

It's stronger than I'd thought, but it's not stronger than me. I may not be able to get rid of it, or even placate it completely, but I will not give in.

I will not give in.

After work yesterday they had NABC Stumble Bus on tap. I'd never tried it before so I gave it a go:

NABC Stumble Bus

(draft) Looked and smelled fantastic - good enough that I pushed past my initial dislike of the taste to give it a fair shot. Eventually the bitterness wore me out, and I ended up giving about half the pint away. I can understand the appeal of this beer, it just doesn't happen to appeal to me.

This morning I finally got fed up with the rapidly deteriorating performance on the server where my site was hosted.

So I called my hosting company and asked them if they had any solution for me other than my switching companies.

They offered to move my domain to another server, away from from whichever domain(s) were hogging the system resources on the current server. This is the sort of response I was hoping for. See below for the type of response I was not hoping for.

Well, that process has begun.

I've had all of my files copied over, and I've requested that the DNS entries for barenada.com be changed to point to the new server.

Still waiting for the DNS changes to propogate around - it could take a few days - but for now I've been testing my relocated site using the IP address.

Everything seems to be working except the functions to send me private messages and ask me private questions. I do not, on this new server, have permissions to run the /bin/mail command as I did on the old server.

Called tech support. The guy was less than helpful. Tried to tell him that their preferred method of opening a trouble ticket (I send an e-mail) has never, does not now, and I expect never will work for me, so would he please just open the ticket himself.

The guy was still less than helpful, continuing to parrot his standard send an e-mail advice, so I told him I'd call back tomorrow when I'd be more likely to get some actual help.

So, for tonight at least, any message or questions you send me will not be immediately forwarded to me. I'll have to watch my server logs manually for them. So don't expect the rapid responses you may have become accustomed to.

(update: About a half-hour after I hung up on the less-than-helpful guy I got an e-mail from the nice girl that helped me this afternoon. She's looking into the permissions issue for me. I guess the guy I talked to at least passed word of my problem along. Even if he said something like "Hey, listen to this asshole's problem" that's still being helpful and I appreciate it.)

(update: Well it seems that my streaming movies will not work until the DNS gets propogated around. So if you got here via the error page I left on the old server the streaming movies still will not work for you. The WMV formatted movies should be fine. Once the DNS gets around everything should work correctly.)

(update: The permissions problem with the message/question forms has been fixed. Yay! The issue with the streaming movies will still take up to a few days to correct itself. Boo!)

This morning, already looking forward to getting off work, I started thinking about the beer I would drink this evening.

I was thinking about the NABC Blonde Abbeys I'd had Saturday, and the Mad Bitch I'd had Friday, and I decided that I wanted something smoky. But not too smoky. Just enough to take the edge off the sweetness still lingering on my palate.

The beer I was thinking about was a Spezial Rauchbier. I got to wondering when Rich O's would have it on tap again.

Many boring hours at work passed, and I walked into Rich O's a little after 5:00 to see, lo and behold, that Spezial Rauchbier was on tap.

Needless to say, this is what I had. Two of them actually. It's kind of neat to imagine that I was able to make a certain beer appear just by thinking about it. Tomorrow I plan to think about beautiful brunettes in glasses.

And winning lottery numbers! Must not forget!

When I first arrived I sat on the sofa and listened to a couple of very hot, very young, girls practicing for a Spanish exam. I was pretty surprised that I actually remembered most of the words that they were practicing, and I was even able to help tutor them a little. Pretty good after twenty-three years. Even better considering how CalienteRoja was posing and contorting herself on the loveseat - quite distracting.

After I'd been there for a few minutes, RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl came in. That's why I had two beers instead of my usual one. We just talked for a while about not much in particular.

I stopped and talked to VigilanteGirl on the way home. She's leaving her job I guess, so that sucks for me, but she'll make more money and she'll have her nights off, so she should be a lot more relaxed.

This thing took over four hours to render for some reason:

I've begun the laborious process of rewriting all of my beer ratings to give them a common format.

Then, once that's done, I can write a script to pull all of the ratings out and list them on a single page.

This morning on the way home from getting breakfast, I passed a friend going the other direction. She flashed her lights at me and we waved at each other.

About an hour later this same girl called me and asked me when I was getting home from Las Vegas.

I told her that I'd be getting home two days ago.

Another hour passed before she called me back and admitted to being a dingbat.

Tonight was my second annual pilgrimage to the boonies to attend RealTrainGirl's birthday party.

I guess it was a combination party this year as MisunderstoodGirl's birthday wasn't too long ago.

Just to get the beer part out of the way, I took a growler of NABC Blonde Abbey and drank about 2/3 of it before I cut myself off. I have to work in the morning after all.

The crowd consisted of two main groups: people from the railroad, and people from Rich O's. I was of course in the latter group. I'd say that we were outnumbered about 2-1, but everyone was cool so it didn't matter.

It was a nice pleasant evening. I can only think of two things worth writing about.

I met this dude from Rich O's that seemed completely embarrassed to admit that he'd read my 'blog. I tried to tell him that if anyone should be embarrassed it should be me, but I'm not ashamed of what I've written. I haven't gone through anything that millions of people haven't gone through. I just happen to write about it. It's good therapy for me.

The other thing is that when I left, and I was driving home through the sticks, I realized that the last time I'd driven that road, back in August, was perhaps the last truly happy time of my life. After that night, everything started to unravel, and there's still a big mess of shit coiled at my feet.

Now I've got to go to bed because I have to get up at 5:30 for work.

My main goal for this trip was to enjoy myself. To not let the admittedly unlikely ruin my trip like it did the last one.

Well the admittedly unlikely did not, in fact, happen, and for that I'm grateful.

I did spend a good part of my time conjuring up various scenarios and planning how I would react. I'm glad that it turned out to be for naught.

So anyway, here are some pictures that I had on my phone.

These beer tower thingies were at the Monte Carlo brewpub. They fill them with up to 5 gallons of beer for parties and shit. When I told the bartender that I'd seen them at the Great Lost Bear in Portland he got a little huffy - like he'd invented the things or something.

Just a pic of the vats behind the bar at the Monte Carlo brewpub.

I got into the superstitious habit of taking a picture of the video poker machine every time it gave me 4 of a kind. This is just one of those times.

Just a picture of the strip from the bridge outside New York New York. I took this Tuesday night trying to track down Awesome Larry.

A view of the bar at the Freakin Frog. That girl in the black is smoking hot.

Another view inside the Freakin Frog.

Took this picture looking up from the bar at the Nine Fine Irishmen while I was drinking with the Irish guys.

After I dropped PigtailGirl off and returned my rental car I just dicked around the Luxor for a while and bought some shirts for my nieces at New York New York, then at about 11:00 I took the monorail up to the Riviera.

I walked around the tournament site for quite a while and was just about to leave when I finally ran into Awesome Larry.

We strolled around and bullshitted for an hour or so then he had to get some rest before his team's next match. I took a cab to the Hard Rock, ate lunch at the Pink Taco, and bought some shirts for my nephews that I hope fit.

Then I went to the Nine Fine Irishmen bar at New York New York and had a couple pints of Smithwick's. Two guys from Ireland came and sat next to me at the bar. They were (of course) drinking Guinness and that inspired me to switch. I had a few pints with them.

I think they were a father/son duo. I could understand the son fairly easily but I didn't understand a thing that the father said because of his accent.

By the time I left it was only about 4:00 and I was about half-pissed (that's what the Irish guys call being drunk) so I just went back to my room and finished the book I'd been reading and made a fairly early evening out of it.

Okay, once I got back to Las Vegas I drove over to The Freakin Frog.

I had myself another draft Alaskan Smoked Porter then I had a new beer for me:

Traquair House Ale

(bottle) Dark reddish brown with a complicated aroma that seemed to include cola. Started out bitter but finished very sweet. A very thick mouthfeel and a very nice flavor that made me drink very quickly. Quite yummy, but perhaps not as yummy as the $15 I paid for it would indicate.

Later in the night I took a cab up to Main Street Station to check out their brewpub. A reading of their beer list was not very appealing to me. Only two of the dozen or so beers seemed worth trying. One was a cherry stout and they were out of that.

The other was a porter, and it ended up being the best beer surprise I had all week.

Triple 7 Black Chip Porter

(draft) That first taste nearly overpowered me. I still can't believe that this beer comes from a brewpub catering to the flavor-impaired masses. Very chocolately, very roasty, very delicious. One of the best porters I've ever had.

I ended up having two of the porters, one while I waited for PigtailGirl to arrive and another while we sat and talked. She'd called right after I'd arrived at Main Street Station and wanted to get together without her friends "cramping her style" in her words.

This was of course intriguing.

At a certain point it was pretty obvious how the night was going to end so we actually both relaxed. There was no more pressure to be charming, and we were in no hurry.

We took a cab to the Rio and I talked her into trying a couple of actual beers instead of the foofoo drinks she'd been drinking. I myself had a couple pints of Newcastle and she tried Newcastle and Fat Tire before settling on (yuck) a Stella.

The next morning I drove PigtailGirl (no longer a descriptive name) up to her hotel and then returned my rental car.

A thing about this - I really really really needed it. Being treated like shit for months - whether intentionally or not - can do lots of damage to a person's ego, and my own self-image was never that great to begin with. I've never been a one-night-stand type of person, and I don't expect to become one in the future. Sometimes people and circumstances just merge and combine and it just feels right. I don't know what PigtailGirl's story is, and she doesn't know mine. There was no need to get into any of that.

Do I feel a little guilty? You bet your ass I do.

But it's not the same guilt I felt when I was with MixedSignalGirl. Back then I felt like I was betraying and belittling my feelings for someone else by being with her. This time my guilt is because I was in part just using PigtailGirl and she really deserved my full attention instead of just serving as a placeholder.

Of course the situation may have been reversed. I could have been used as well. If so, that's okay. It was a great night, and I think we helped each other get through some shit, even though we didn't discuss what the actual shit was.

Wednesday was another very long day.

It started out at 4:52 AM when my phone went off. VigilanteGirl calling to tell me that she was in Atlanta and wanting to know where I was. I need to tell her that the next time she decides to wake me up before 5:00 in the morning I'd prefer a nudge to a phone call.

After that I couldn't get back to sleep so I went down and played video poker for a while. I'd found myself a very nice machine that kept giving me 4-of-a-kind. Five times it did this for me, and I won over $600. I would have kept playing but then this old guy sat to my right and destroyed my mojo by moving my ashtray.

Armed with my newfound wealth, I went and rented a car and started driving Southeast.

My original plan had been to just go to Hoover Dam and back, but the trip to the dam only took an hour or so so I decided to spend some time in Arizona.

At one point I saw a sign indicating that I could get to the west rim of The Grand Canyon in only a couple of hours, so that's what I decided to do. I never actually made it to the canyon - at least not to a point where I could look down into it - because all of the indians there kept telling me I needed to pay them $15 before I could move on. Since none of them would offer any kind of receipt or day pass in return I just kept turning around and trying to find another route.

Here are a buttload of pictures I took, mostly of Hoover Dam. I'll probably come back and put in some descriptions of these pics later.

Looks like my last Las Vegas entry with any substance was Tuesday evening, so I'll try to pick things up there.

Went to the MGM Grand to see this new KA show. This was my third Cirque du Soleil show, and I guess I have to say that it's my least favorite. With the exception of this one dude running around on the outside of a spinning hamster wheel thing there just weren't a lot of the stunts and acrobatics I was expecting. I'd have to say that the real star of KA was the set. The most amazing piece of machinery I've ever seen.

Once the show was over I turned my cell phone back on and found out that I'd had a call from Awesome Larry. Larry is a friend from my old Omaha days, and I'd been hoping that he was in Vegas for the BCA tournament.

Well because of a big misunderstanding - there's a Monte Carlo casino on the strip and a Monte Carlo tower in the Riviera - I didn't meet up with Larry until Thursday.

The last part of the night I spent at the ESPN Zone drinking a couple of their 24oz. mugs full of Newcastle.

Tonight was a pretty typical Rich O's night.

I had a Mad Bitch draft, and later two Smithwick's pints.

The highlight of the evening was listening to CuteBlonde completely decimate SocialistDude for several hours. Each time SocialistDude would make a point, CuteBlonde would counter and just dismantle whatever SocialistDude had just said.

It was fun listening to them because SocialistDude was not beng an asshole about his beliefs like a lot of people at Rich O's. I ended up buying them a round of beers just so I could listen some more.

CoffeeDude was there later in the night, as were ExBartender and DooRagGirl.

It was a pretty nice transition back to the real world for me.

Tomorrow night I'm going to a party at the home of RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl. The timing is a little shitty because I'd really like to see CuteBlonde again, but I'm also looking forward to seeing my lesbian girlfriends again.

I bet that last sentence really lights up the search engines.

Eleven months ago I returned from a week in Las Vegas so excited that I'm surprised I didn't piss myself. Much.

Five hours ago I returned from another week in Las Vegas and I know that I have nothing to be excited about.

This time around there was nobody who, even in my most alcohol sodden delusions, I could imaging missing me with any thought other than perhaps a passing "Hmm, I wonder where that Dave guy has been."

This time around there's nobody to come home to.

Except my cats.

They're really glad to see me.

I will post some entries about the last couple of days in Las Vegas. Maybe later tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning.

For now, it's off to Rich O's.

I'm not dead, and I'm not off stalking anyone.

What I am doing is preserving my laptop batteries as somebody stole my power cord while I was staying at Mandalay Bay.

Just to quickly answer a private message:

A link to email me is on the side of my main page. You have to change "AT" to "@" and "DOT" to "." to get it to work.

I cannot believe that I just had to explain that.

Anyway, I leave tomorrow morning. I may try to catch up on what's happened since Tuesday before I go. It all depends on (a) my alcohol intake, (b) my laptop battery level, (c) whether PigtailGirl wants to get together again, (d) if I can stay awake, and (e) whether I feel like it or not.

Either way, I'll post complete update(s) when I get home.

Well the conference is over, so my vacation is officially on!

Packed up my shit this morning and moved over to The Luxor. Kind of a small room but I'm in the pyramid and the view down is quite cool:

Tonight I get to go see KA at The MGM Grand. It should be cool.

Tomorrow I get to go driving. Just how far remains to be seen.

Yesterday was a long day.

After the last conference session I took a cab to The Freakin Frog out by UNLV. This is a bar touted on the Internet as having the best beer selection in Nevada.

I believe it. Their bottled beer list is the only one I've ever seen that rivals that of Rich O's. On tap, they only had nine or so beers, with no less than three IPAs.

My plan, going in, was to drink some beer that I hadn't had before. This plan was shattered when I saw that they had Alaskan Smoked Porter on tap. Of course I couldn't resist this, one of my favorite beers, in draft form.

While I enjoyed my porter and a cheeseburger and fries I perused the beer list - about twenty pages of beer, sorted by country of origin. I think the same list is available at their website.

My second choice was easy. A beer I hadn't had before but always wanted to try:

Alaskan Winter Ale

(bottle) A nice copper color with a decent head. Starts out a little bitter but has a sweet finish and aftertaste. Works out to be very well-balanced. Another winner from Juneau.

Making a choice, from all the beers available, for my final beer proved to be too tough of a decision for me to make. I asked the bartender (a girl that reminded me a lot of MisunderstoodGirl) to find me a good Belgian that I hadn't had before.

What she came back with, after a couple of suggestions for beer that I'd already had in the past, was a Belgian from Canada that I've seen at Rich O's but never ordered:

Unibroue La Fin Du Monde

(bottle) A very fizzy mouthfeel. Hint of apples - common in Belgians. Quite good, could use more flavor and less fizz.

After I took a cab back to the world, er, the strip, I was supposed to go see Zumanity at New York New York. At least that's what I thought. It turned out that I'd purchased a ticket for the April 24th show, not the May 16th show. Why did I do this? I blame the fact that I bought the ticket on April 12th when I was quite distracted by other events.

So I didn't get to see the show. What I ended up doing was hanging out at The ESPN Zone drinking Newcastles with some girls from Portland Maine who were drinking some foofoo drinks. I was wearing my Great Lost Bear shirt so that's how I was able to infiltrate their little group.

At one point everybody wanted to go up to Fremont Street. Well, everybody except me. I wanted to take one or more of the lovelies back to my room. But of course I'm much too shy too ever actually suggest such a thing, so I went to Fremont Street with them. I switched to Diet Coke while the girls somehow managed to keep drinking. We formed a sort of structural support, where I ended up walking and standing with all three girls putting almost all of their weight on me. I'm sure we were quite a sight, and I'm also sure that I got a few jealous looks from guys in the crowd.

As it turned out, nothing happened except for some nice kisses that I got for being such a sweet guy. I spent the night with them in their room and then came back here to Mandalay Bay this morning.

Now I have to check out of here and go check in to The Luxor.

I recently wrote that I thought I'd figured out who was being so hateful to me last Fall. I wrote that I'd decided to forgive that person.

Now I've got this theory rattling around in my head that, if true, means that I not only should forgive her, I actually owe her a big debt of gratitude.

Not gratitude for being such a bitch in the Fall, as that was really uncalled-for, but for finally helping to put a stop to the bullshit that's been going on ever since.

For finally explaining that which was apparently invisible, or at least irrelevant.

Empathy is a hard thing to teach. I hope the lesson sticks.

Or, I could be just as wrong about this as I've been about everything else.

Like I said the other day, I'm in my own little world here.

And in my little world, I may have found myself an ally, or at least a sympathizer.

Last night I went over to The Monte Carlo's brewpub. The place was, like all Las Vegas establishments, beautifully decorated and laid-out. Unfortunately all the money they've obviously thrown into the place hasn't made it to the beer. I only tried two that, going by their styles, might appeal to me. They didn't.

Monte Carlo Silver State Stout

(draft) Very thin flavor and mouthfeel. Definitely drinkable, but so is water.

Monte Carlo High Roller Red

(draft) Quite disgusting. Has that tingly mouthfeel that I detest in lagers. I was surprised to find it in this, ostensibly an ale. This is a beer trying to appeal to the swill drinking masses and the good beer drinkers at the same time. It fails at both.

When I left The Monte Carlo I took a cab to The Rio and went to The Tilted Kilt.

While there I had a Newcastle and a couple of Rogue Dead Guy Ales.

It was pretty cool to be back at The Tilted Kilt though. I wish some of the people I've gotten to know over the years had been working. I'm told that I should come back Tuesday.

Today I kinda impressed myself.

I walked from The Stratosphere to Mandalay Bay, a distance of approximately 664,323.4 miles.

I'd never been to The Stratosphere before. I was pretty impressed with all the restaurants and shit they have there. I guess because they're so far out of the way that they pretty much have to be able to provide for their guests.

Walking up to the thing is pretty impressive. I mean, you know it's tall, but you might not know that it's fucking tall. Don't feel bad. It's a fine line between the two.

Down there somewhere is the place I stood when I took the first picture.

Here are some people that may be about to die. Or at least buy some new underwear.

The elevator operator was telling me that when they first opened up this ride they had problems with it. I asked if he meant that it was flinging people to their deaths and he said no just with the wind, where the whole thing would shut down and leave people hanging there.

Anyway, once I left The Stratosphere I waked down to The Riviera. The BCA tournament is going on and I thought I'd look to see if anyone I knew was there. I did see a couple of people from Louisville, but nobody from Omaha or Seattle or New Orleans or Memphis. I plan to go back sometime this week, and I also called a couple of people to see if anyone I knew was at the tournament.

After The Rio I walked to Wynn's new place and checked it out. Pretty cool, but so crowded that I didn't stick around for very long.

When I left Wynn's I walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked to New York New York and went into this place called Nine Fine Irishmen for lunch and some beers.

A pretty beautiful place. I took other pictures but they're all shaky and unviewable, like this one:

I've been thinking about putting a bar in my basement. I don't I could pull something like this off though, what with 7-foot ceilings and all.

Kinsale Irish Lager

(draft) Nowhere on the tap did it have the word lager. That's false advertising as far as I'm concerned, but so is the lack of the phrase watery baby bunny piss. This just might give a Stella a run for its money as the weakest non-American lager in the world.

To wash the taste of that stuff out of my mouth I had a Smithwick's with my lunch, then had another beer that was new to me.

Ballingarry Warehouse Stout

(draft) Lacing doesn't even begin to describe the foam that clung to my glass. A very nice stout - reminded me a lot of Murphy's. There was just a hint of chocolate, but nothing overpowering or pretentious at all. Yummy.

One more thing. The other day I saw a living creature draw its last breath and fall over dead. I thought I'd seen everything after that, but I was wrong. Here's how my fish 'n' chips came packaged:

The server told me to just dump the contents of this paper cone onto the plate. I did, but I really felt like I was desecrating a work of art when I did it.

The meal was delicious though.

Sometimes I seem to live in my own little world.

It's a lot like the real world except that it's just a little more bearable.

In my little world, I'm the one being stubborn.

In my world, it's kind of nice sometimes to get to be the mean one, even when the target of my meanness does not deserve it. Much.

Meanwhile the real world just keeps turning, oblivious to my hallucinations.

Here are some pics I took of the Fremont Street Experience last night:

Sin City Amber

(draft) A lager by any other name is still a lager, and I still don't like it. Kind of a sickly-sweet taste that I can't really describe and I don't want to drink more of it just to get a better description.

Chimay Blanche

(draft) A nice beer. Not nearly as sweet as other tripels I've have. I got a subtle undertone that reminded me of smoke. There was very little head, though this may have been caused by the filthy glass. I liked it a lot, but there are a zillion better Belgians out there.

Ate dinner last night at a place called Bar Grill Saloon or maybe Grill Saloon Bar. I shit you not. The burger I had was fantastic though.

When I left Fremont Street I took a cab car automobile back to Mandalay Bay and went to this place location establishment called Burger Bar where I had the beers drinks beverages listed above.

By about midnight the time zone change had completely incapacitated me so I went to sleep.

Heard the following fortune cookie saying on TV this morning:

It is a foolish fish indeed that gets caught twice with the same bait.

If course this is just a variation on the old fool me once... saying, but since I've used a fish metaphor before I thought it was worth mentioning.

I'm sitting in my room at Mandalay Bay debating where to go tonight. So far I've got it narrowed down to Fremont Street, The Luxor, New York New York, and The Tilted Kilt at The Rio.

In other words, I haven't made up my mind at all.

I did find a place here at Mandalay Bay that serves Fat Tire and Newcastle, so I guess I won't be dying of thirst while I'm here.

Last night I had a splitting headache. A headache that overwhelmed all of the pain sensors normally associated with headaches and spilled over into my teeth and my neck.

To try to dull this pain, I went to Rich O's and had some beer. I hadn't been planning to go but then I found/realized that I didn't have to fly out until 10:30 AM.

My first beer was one I know I've had before but I couldn't find any reference to it here, so I went to RateBeer.com and copied my rating from there:

Tripel Karmeliet

(draft) Had a head that lasted forever. Quite a bit blander than other Belgians I've enjoyed - this had a more lagerish taste to it, and no apple taste at all. Despite that I did like it though.

Next I had a couple of the new NABC Blonde Abbey beers that I wrote about the other day.

None of these helped my headache.

I wanted very badly to make a phone call or send a text message, but I didn't. I guess I should be proud of my restraint, but to even need that restraint indicates a bit of a failure on my part.

Here's the current rambling wisdom for me from Free Will Astrology:

One of the world's longest streets is Figueroa Street in Los Angeles. It runs 30 miles. In contrast, Bridge Street, a lane near my house, is about 50 yards long and connects two lengthy roads to each other. The path you're on right now, Pisces, has a metaphorical resemblance to Bridge Street. Your time on it will be brief, and it will serve as a bridge between two phases of your life story. Soon you'll turn onto a longer thoroughfare more like Figueroa. In the meantime, pay maximum attention to the sights and sounds. This leg of your journey will be short, but it will reveal clues that will be essential as you shift gears.

I can't help but wonder about the timing of this horoscope. I mean, I've got this shoe hovering in the air. I'm off to Las Vegas for a week. I don't feel like anything's really going to change with me during this week, but I guess you never know.

Perhaps I'll hit the jackpot somewhere.

Perhaps I'll meet the girl of my dreams, or at least someone to change my current dreams.

Perhaps I'll see The Grand Canyon and become so inspired that I become an artist or a tree hugger or something and move to some hippie commune.

There's lots of shit that could happen, but I doubt that anything really will.

In fact, just about the only prediction I can make with any sort of confidence is this:

I will not allow this trip to be ruined like the last one was. I'm way too irritated to let myself fall into that same bullshit loop again. Plus, it wil be warm enough that I can actually leave the hotel.

So, I'm outta here. I'll update when I can. Probably every day unless I'm on the road or out enjoying the scenery.

Been in a little bit of a rut for the last few days. I have some ideas for some good ramblings but the motivation just isn't there.

At times like this I really appreciate those readers that bother to message me.

Even the ones that keep asking that fucking question are welcomed during these lulls.

Today I spent some time having an IM conversation about risk. Specifically the fact that I don't seem to be willing to take risks. Specifically this one particular risk.

Specifically the one where I waited 39 years for something, and then did absolutely nothing about it but whine. And still I whine.

Some people read this 'blog and they expect something to happen. They expect that I'll eventually get tired of whining and actually do something. They hope that they'll come here one day and read all about some great dramatic event that, in the end, will provide some type of closure to this little story that's been dragging on.

I don't think they care what happens. It could be good. It could be bad. It could be anything as long as it's something. Something they can point to and say, "Right there. That's when everything finally came to a head. For better or worse, at least now I know what happened in the end."

I have no such expectations, and I gave up hoping some time ago. A little over a month ago.

But back to the risk.

People that think they know me, they keep telling me what a good person I am, how happy I could make someone, how lucky a girl would be to have me. The thing is, I know what I'm capable of. I know what I can and cannot put up with. Also, a risk needs a payoff, and there's just nothing there. The other end of this particular rainbow never reaches the ground.

People come here and they read about my pain and they think it can be fixed. They've seen too many movies.

I'll quote from today's conversation, with permission:

But you'll be so close! I don't see how you can just keep doing nothing. How can you be so afraid of being hurt when that's all you've been doing anyway? You'd think you'd be used to it by now. What's the risk of more pain when compared to the happiness you could gain?

My response:

People keep forgetting that this, my inaction, is not about me. I know it seems that way, and I know why it seems that way. I temper my words in my 'blog and I temper my actions in my life not to protect my own feelings, but to protect another's. I've already done enough harm.

I know how this all reads. It reads like one giant cop-out. One long drawn-out whimper from a little boy, telling tales of monsters in his closet so nobody knows that he's really just afraid to sleep alone in the dark.

I know that's what most of my readers think, and I don't blame them for thinking it.

Maybe some day, something will happen. Maybe someday this story will really end. Maybe then I'll be able to fill in the holes. Write the things that everyone already knows, and maybe some things that nobody even suspects.

Just don't hold your breath. I know I won't.

(But for now, just one thing. I did do something. I tried to open a door just a little. It got slammed in my face.)

I leave for Las Vegas in two days and I haven't done a damn thing to get ready.

I need to do laundry, I need to go grocery shopping for cat food, I need to balance my checking account, I need to pack, I need to print out my show tickets and my itineraries.

I'm sure there's more that I won't remember until I'm already on the plane.

I was supposed to be doing some of this stuff tonight, but instead I find myself connecting in to work to work on a study I've been tasked with. It's due tomorrow.

My cat dying last night didn't help my motivation then either.

So hopefully I'll be able to get all this shit done tomorrow after work and still have a short evening at Rich O's before I leave Saturday morning.

Wanted to make something with a maple tree in it, so I did:

(crossposted to cats' 'blog)

Today, Spook died.

She'd been falling quickly for the fast couple of weeks, not eating as much, only wanting attention. I tried once to pick her up to take her to the vet but she didn't like that one little bit, so I let her be.

This morning when I left for work Spook was laying on the sidewalk. She didn't get up and come to me like she usually did. She just looked at me and gave her pathetic meow. I figured that she would be dead by the time I got home, so I spent a few extra minutes petting her and telling her what a good kitty she was.

When I got home from work, Spook was on the deck and she raised her head to watch me pull into the garage.

I took a can of food out to the deck and poured it into her bowl. She came over and took a bite, purring loudly. She always liked to be petted while she ate, and this always made her purr.

After she took a bite of food, she fell over.

She died with her eyes open, so the last thing she saw was me. The last thing she felt was me petting her. The last sound she made was a purr. The last sound she heard was me saying

You like that food, don't you Spooky? What a good kitty!

I tried to dig a hole for her, but ended up putting her into the hole I'd discovered in my yard the other day.

It's under the Japanese Maple. She always liked it there.

I'm sure this will hit me harder at some point.

I added a small bit about her to my Cats of the Past page.

...the recognition I deserve!

Here we see the lovely MisunderstoodGirl modelling the next big thing in fashion.

Also, the NABC surprised us by unveiling a new beer today.

NABC Blonde Abbey

This is what I've been waiting for! A Belgian that won't kill me if I have more than one in a night! Very good, it reminded me of NABC's Tunnel Vision except not quite as sweet. Could use a little more carbonation, and it lacks the appley taste I've become accustomed to from Belgians. I liked it a lot, and I'm looking forward to the next batch to see if they up the carbonation a little.

Just a quick note to say I drank some weird stuff after work today.

Mestreechs Aait Flemish Red Ale

The board at Rich O's said "Flemish Sour Beer" and that's as good of a description as any. Tasted like somebody had dissolved a Green Apple Jolly Rancher candy in it. It was actually pretty decent for about the first 7 ounces. After that it got a little old. Definitely different, and definitely worth a try.

MisunderstoodGirl, RealTrainGirl, and GreenBeerDude came in while I was choking down the last ounce of the above beer. I had a couple half-pints of Newcastle while we all bullshitted for a while.

I'm also quite pleased to note that I'm not detecting that fuck you asshole vibe from MisunderstoodGirl at all anymore. Perhaps she's mellowing in her old age.

That was a joke.

Please don't kill me.

(response to messages)

Several people keep asking me the same questions regarding my upcoming Vegas trip. I figure I'll answer them here all at once. Use your imagination for the questions - it's fun!

Let me know what you think the questions are. Maybe I'll post the funniest guesses.

Did absolutely nothing today except yard stuff.

Mowed with the rider, then mowed with the walker, then ate weeds with the weedeater, then sprayed vegetation killer where it was needed.

All just to have to do it again in a week.

And I've got this huge hole in my backyard where a groundhog or a bear or something has its burrow. The damn thing is a foot wide and seems to go all the way to Hell. My first thought was to just get a bunch of dirt and/or concrete and fill the hole, but that just seems mean if the creature is down there with a bunch of offspring.

I'm such a fucking softie.

Maybe I'll lower a radio playing heavy metal music down the hole. Isn't that what we did to Noriega?

I used to love making new images.

These days every time I make one it reminds me of one I've already made.

I guess you could say I'm in a rut.

Anyway, here's my newest:

Yesterday I went to a Derby party at my friend Eric's house.

I really only knew Eric and Terri there, but there were also some people from high school that I at least remembered. There were a lot of kids running and screaming. All of the kids were boys. I thought that was a little strange.

Drank some Blue Moon and threw some horseshoes. I now officially suck at horseshoes. Not that I was ever great but I was always better than that.

I drew two horses in the $5.00 pool. One was the favorite and the other was like a 12-1 shot or something. I think they're both still running.

Left the party at seven-ish to get showered and head down to Rich O's.

Rich O's was moderately dead. I sat alone in the living room area for quite a while, drinking a Founder's Red Rye and feeling a little depressed. I think it was seeing all the happy families at the party and feeling like that life is something I'll never experience again.

There's something you say to only a few people in your lifetime. To feel it in your heart but be unable and/or unwilling to say it is kind of a pain. Plus it'd be kind of nice to think that the other person would at least be listening.

After a while this dude that looks like Buddy Rich sat with me. I had a Newcastle Brown Ale and we just talked about various crap.

I came home at about 11:00 and played pool until 4:00.

So this morning I'm a little irritated with myself for letting my mood slip last night.

Stolen from this guy's page.

1. What is the geekiest part of your music collection?
I guess American Idol Greatest Love Songs, but I also have Mr. Spock's Music From Outer Space and some Devo on LP.

2. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night?
A pack of ramen noodels if I have any. Usually if I eat late it's because I stopped at White Castle on the way home.

3. What is your secret guaranteed weeping movie?
Major League. When they win the game at the end.

4. If you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done?
I'd have the fat sucked out of my head.

5. Do you have a completely irrational fear?
Afraid to write it, lest it come true.

6. What is the little physical habit that gives away your insecure moments?
Staring at my feet. Used to bite my nails but haven't been able to since the dentist replaced a filling in my sharp tooth last month.

7. Are you a pyromaniac?
Nope. I like to watch fires, but not enough to go around setting them.

8. Do you have too many love interests?
Sometimes one is too many, if it's the wrong person. When I'm in a relationship I find that one is plenty for me.

9. Do you know anyone famous?
I know a couple of pro pool players. Does that count?

10. Describe your bed
This super thick Sealy that's too soft. In the guest room the mattress is too hard. My sofa is just right.

11. Are you spontaneous or planned?
I plan things then spontaneously change my mind.

12. Who would play you in a movie?
I did an entry about this recently.

13. Do you know how to play poker?
The same way I know how to play chess. I know the rules but I suck.

14. What do you carry with you at all times?
My stupid fucking cell phone. God I hate that thing.

15. What do you miss most about being a kid?
Summer vacation. Trusting people. The whole innocence thing.

16. Are you happy with your given name?
I never really cared for my middle name. Don't know why. It's Shane by the way.

17. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year?
A lot.

18. What color is your bedroom?
Kind of a girlyfied light blue. I need to paint it something more manly. Maybe black.

19. What was the last song you were listening to?
Heard Hell's Bells by AC/DC on the radio last night.

20. Have you ever been in a play?
No, but I wish I would have. I think it would be fun. Not a musical though.

21. Have you ever been in love?
Yes.

22. Do you talk a lot?
With one other person I never shut up. In a group I usually just listen to everyone else.

23. Do you like yourself and believe in yourself?
I guess I'm okay. Kind of a sad sack sometimes. Kind of a sarcastic asshole at other times.

24. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you?
By their existence, no. By asking me for handouts, yes.

25. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person?
I suppose I'm a pretty nice guy. I'm hardly ever intentionally mean.

26. Do you spend more time with your girlfriend/boyfriend or your friends?
Not applicable right now, but in the past, definitely my girlfriend or wife.

27. What is your ideal marriage location?
I like the idea of a wedding somewhere outdoors, somewhere beautiful. Anyplace but a church, really.

28. Which musical instrument do you wish you could play?
Guitar I guess. Piano would be cool too, but it would be harder to carry a piano around to parties.

29. Favorite fabric?
Denim.

30. Something you love and hate?
At the same time? Being in love with the wrong person.

31. What kind of bedding do you use?
Umm, sheets and pillows.

32. Do you tell your friends about your sex life?
No. At least not in any detail.

33. What's the one language you want to learn?
French. I don't know why. My Spanish could use some refresher courses as well.

34. How do you eat an apple?
Peel it, cut it into wedges, then eat the wedges.

35. What do you order at a bar?
Beer.

36. Have you ever pierced your body parts?
Nope.

37. Do you have tattoos?
Nope.

39. Do you drive a stick?
My truck. My cars are both automatics.

40. What's one trait you hate in a person?
Insensitivity.

41. What kind of watch do you wear?
A Fossil.

43. Do you consider yourself materialistic?
I like nice things.

44. What do you cook the best?
I like to make up my own Hamburger Helper recipes. I also make great grilled chese sandwiches. Nothing too fancy for me.

45. Favorite writing instrument?
A pen. This was a stupid question.

46. Do you prefer to stand out or blend in?
Blend.

47. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex?
Maybe for Halloween, though I never have.

48. What's one car you will never buy?
That ugly-ass Honda Element.

49. What kind of books do you like to read?
Science Fiction.

50. If you won the lottery, what would you do?
Retire and travel.

51. Burial or cremation?
Cremation.

52. How many online journals do you read regularly?
A couple dozen.

53. What's one thing you're a loser at?
Love.

54. If you don't like a person, how do you show it?
Walk away.

55. Do you cry in front of your friends?
Nope.

56. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people?
Perfect strangers are always asking me what's wrong, so I guess I come off as sad.

57. What's one thing you like to do alone?
Besides the obvious bathroom activities, I don't really care.

58. Are you a giver or a taker?
How about both?

59. When's the last time you cried?
When I realized that I had to start something over.

60. Favorite communication method?
Telephone. I also like that whistling language I saw some natives use on TV.

Diane Kruger is my Hottie of the Day for today.

Just a classic beauty. I liked the way her character in National Treasure evolved from a bitch to a sweet girl.

After I left the bar last night I went up to listen to some karaoke. My uncle Wayne was there, as was my aunt Carol. The place was pretty dead otherwise.

At one point I remembered that National Treasure was out on DVD so I drove back to New Albany to pick up a copy at Walmart then I went to White Castle.

I guess Derby eve is some kind of cruising holiday or something. In Louisville I gather that this means jamming the streets and getting arrested, but in New Albany it means that everybody goes to White Castle and stands around in the parking lot.

It was pretty cool to drive my Monte Carlo in and park it among all those ricers. Nice to remind them what a real car looks like.

Walked into White Castle and, lo and behold, MixedSignalGirl was standing in line with one of her friends. We hadn't seen each other or even talked since things disintegrated back in February. I lied and told her I was doing fine, she lied and told me she was looking for a job. It was just like old times except that we didn't go home together.

Once I did get home I called her up and apologized if I'd seemed a little standoffish. We talked for a while and ended up agreeing that going our separate ways was the right thing to do. Between my baggage and her hangups it was just too much work.

She'd read here about LaptopGirl visiting but she thankfully dropped the subject when I told her I really didn't want to talk about it. I think she always knew she was competing with that ghost - even though I always denied it.

So I guess it was a nice way to end the night. I don't feel nearly as bad about her as I did when we broke up. Partly because I can tell she's doing fine, and partly because I now know for sure why I was not able to provide what she was looking for.

I only watched about half of my movie before I fell asleep on the couch.

I dreamed that the UPS guy had dropped off a package all the way out in the middle of my yard, and I had to go get it while I was naked. I don't know why I didn't stop to put clothes on first. I should have at least covered up my morning erection.

I bet some people would have a hard time cramming two day's worth of stuff into a 'blog entry.

For me it's easy: slept, worked, drank, watched TV, repeat.

You want more information? Fine.

On Thursday I was sitting at home waiting for Survivor to get tivoed when I realized that I only had a half-day of work Friday. This meant that I could risk going out to Rich O's for a bit, so that's what I did.

I had myself some Newcastles and sat in the living room area listening to these people around me argue about Star Wars and The Lord of the Ring trilogy. It was kind of nice to know for sure that I was by far the coolest person in that area of the bar. I usually suspect that it's the case but the geek squad there provided definite proof.

Oh yeah, I also apologized to ExBartender for doubting his ability to keep his mouth shut about things discussed last weekend. My estimation of him has certainly gone up a notch.

Friday night Rich O's was a lot more crowded, but there was a place next to this cute girl on the loveseat so I sat there and waited for her to stand up so I could check her out.

My first beer last night was a Fantome Saison. I've had this before and liked it. It tasted a lot more sour than I remember, but in a good way, so I had another.

It's been a while since I've actually had anything new to drink. For my next beer I had one of these:

Founders Red Rye

(draft) The first sip of this was just disgusting, but I vowed to drink a couple of inches to give it a fair test. At about halfway through the pint I decide I sorta liked it. By the end of the pint I wanted another one. An odd-tasting beer that just grew on me. Not sure I can describe the taste.

Once CuteGirl and her posse left (waiting for her to stand was worth the wait) PorterBob and some other PBDs whose names I don't know came and sat with me. We talked about various fluff, interrupted by the occasional head turns while WorldsHottestGirl or DooRagGirl would walk by.

WorldsHottestGirl is actually becoming a bit of a regular at Rich O's. I hope the air conditioning is in good working order or it may be a long hot Summer in there.

My last beer of the night was a Newcastle.

Guys engaging in raunchy locker room talk about their women friends.

Cleaned out some old pictures from my phone this morning.

With this one I was trying to capture how green the sky was after a storm. My grass, which obviously needed mowing, was practically glowing. The camera did not do justice to the green I was seeing.

This is some of the landscaping at work. I'd love to know what these bushes are and get some around my house.

A few days ago I took my phone out of its holster and saw that it was in camera mode and that it had taken this picture. I have no idea what this is a picture of, but I thought it looked pretty cool.

Just a quick follow-up to this old entry about my upcoming Las Vegas trip.

Got an e-mail this morning from the people holding the conference, and they indicated that they have secured a room for me on the 14th. This is the exact opposite of what I was told early last month.

So I called Mandalay Bay and had them double and triple check. I do indeed have a room reserved for arrival on the 14th and checkout on the 17th.

I called the Luxor and cancelled my reservation for the 14th, stressing that my reservation for the 17th through the 20th was still valid.

So now I only have to pack my shit and change hotels once during my trip.

I hate my phone.

I think the hate started back in February. I'd been carrying the damn thing everywhere I went for months, cursing myself for my inability to risk missing a call from her. One night I accidentally left the phone in the basement when I went to bed.

The next morning I saw that I'd missed an incoming message.

I'd lugged that damn thing around for at least a month since the last text message, and now I had nothing to show for it but a stupid blinking red light.

Blink blink. Ha ha. Blink blink. You suck. Blink blink. You lose.

I sent off a response, apologizing for missing the message, then got nothing for another month. Though you can be sure that my phone never left my side again, I began to loathe it and what it stood for. It became a little silver monument to my aloneness, a testimony to my fears and failures.

There was a day, not too long ago, when I really thought my phone would ring. I'd asked for a favor. For a chance to say goodbye before she left again. I was sure that it wasn't too much to ask for. I was sure that she'd call.

When my phone finally rang, late in the afternoon, my heart leapt and my breathing stopped. I snatched my phone up and looked at the screen.

It was my cousin Mike.

I may never forgive him for calling me on that particular day, but I know that the phone is my true enemy.

These days my phone plays a different kind of game with me. These days it rings a lot. My friends call. My sisters call. I don't know if people are checking up on me or what. I did endure a pretty hard blow after all.

These days when my phone rings, my heart leaps, and my breathing stops, and I snatch up the phone, and I look at the screen.

TrainGirl calling from her new home.

My sister telling me about her new deck.

CoffeeDude calling from Rich O's.

MisunderstoodGirl calling me all drunk.

VigilanteGirl discussing plans for the night.

These days, when my phone rings, I don't get excited. These days, when my phone rings, it scares the shit out of me. Every time I move to look at that screen I know I'm not ready for what could be displayed there. I seriously doubt that I'll ever be ready.

My phone knows this too. It knows that every time it rings, I'll be afraid.

Afraid of what I'll hear, but mostly afraid of what I'll say.

And afraid that the progress I've made over the past couple of weeks, the good mood that inexplicably continues to permeate my being even as I write this entry, that it all will be shattered the instant I see her name on the screen and realize that I've just been fooling myself once again.

The point I wanted to make here is that when you call me the reason that I sound grouchy isn't because of you. It's because I'm irritated with my stupid phone playing this mind game with me and getting me all worked up over nothing.

Okay, go here and read the opening sentence.

Done? Good. Now read the second and third full paragraphs.

Done? Okay.

I wish I could express what I've been going through half as well as this lady can.

(update: Okay, after quite a few private messages, and a bit of reading, I'll grudgingly admit that some of my stuff has been decent. Thanks to those of you that gave me encouragement.

That first sentence really did grab me though.)

Back in the olden days, after the dinosaurs died off, but before video games, I was a toddler.

One of the toys I had was this little play workbench where you had all these differently shaped holes and matching pegs. The idea was to put the pegs into the holes with the matching shape.

With me so far?

Doing it correctly required almost zero effort, and it got very boring very quickly.

So I remember trying to cheat. Trying to fit the star-shaped peg into the oval hole, or whatever.

It never worked, but I had more fun trying and failing than I ever had doing it correctly.

Remember, I was a toddler. It didn't take much to amuse me.

What got me thinking about that old toy was an e-mail conversation I had with one of my readers the other day.

We were talking about soulmates and perfect matches and bullshit like that, and she told me she felt like her heart was a round hole in a world full of square pegs.

Whoa.

That's pretty deep right there.

Tonight, I missed her.

I thought for a while that my good mood was coming to an end, but then I realized that the reason I missed her was that I wanted to share my continuing good mood with her. Never mind how impossible that would be. Kind of like a snowflake wanting to spend a day at the beach with a magnifying glass.

VigilanteGirl got her hair cut. I guess that her boss and I are the only ones who noticed. Bonus points for me!

Today is MisunderstoodGirl's birthday, so I broke a long-standing tradition by going out on a Tuesday night. I also broke a recent vow by going to this Mac & Cheese bar to help her ring in her new year.

To drink, I had a couple of Newcastles. The first one came in a glass that was encrusted with at least 1/8 inch of frost. The second one I had the girl pour into the old glass.

In attendance tonight besides MisunderstoodGirl, RealTrainGirl, and me, were about a half-dozen people that I didn't (and still don't) know. One girl was fairly hot.

MisunderstoodGirl talked me into taking a sip of this Jager Bomb or some such. A sip is all it took for me to know that I wouldn't be finishing it. There's still just one person in the world that I'll drink a shot with, and she's in Washington state, and she's named Holly.

Hi Holly!

Anyway, I figure that since I'm to the point of feeling nostalgic it's about time for me to be shit upon again so I can go back to being irritated.

Now it's 11:30 and I know it'll take me another several hours to unwind enough to sleep. This phone sits here taunting me but I will control myself. There's nothing to say anyway.

(response to message)

A year and a half ago I complimented you.

Big mistake.

The compliment on your game was deserved, but I'm afraid that you may have read too much into it.

I'm not in love with you.

You are not allowed to suck my dick.

You know, every gay person I've talked to, male or female, has professed to being much happier once they finally came out of the closet.

I suggest that you do the same. I can tell that your secret is eating away at you. It doesn't have to. It's the year 2005, people are much more accepting now.

But honesty about your gender identification will only get you so far. I myself am straight, and there's nothing that you can do about it. You'll just have to settle for a lesser man.

So, climb to the top of the Space Needle and shout out I LOVE BIG GIANT COCKS for all the world to hear. There's somebody out there willing to let you slobber greedily at his genitals.

That somebody is just not me.

Was this what you meant when you complained that I never wrote about you?

Not much of a quiz really, but what other category should I put this in?

The other day I added this page to list some of the strange search strings that lead people to my site.

What I failed to anticipate was that, by listing these gems, I was skewing the search engine results.

So now, for example, if someone googles i like to smell my own butt it's pretty likely that this site will be one of the first ones returned.

This is completely unfair to those people who are desperately seeking other autoanalolfactory perverts and only finding me.

So what I've done is, I've added a META tag in the file obscure.shtml to prevent well-behaved search robots from archiving that page.

Now, once the already archived versions of the page expire from the search sites, the perverts will be free to search, unimpeded, for things like eating human testicles and happy crotch.

Man I'm tired.

My early morning excitement has gradually been overtaken and surpassed by the realization that there is virtually no scenario I can imagine wherein all this ends well.

I just noticed that I've used the word wherein three times in two days. I really need to buy a thesaurus.

Anyway, to die in my sleep has always seemed like one of the worst ways to go. A life should be experienced, and that should include the end of a life. To go out in a plane crash, or a fire, or a shooting, to feel something right up to and including the last moments of life - that's how I want to go.

I don't want to go to sleep one night and just never wake up. I want to SCREAM my last breath.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this - it just doesn't seem right to let things fade away. Some things deserve a grand exit. Some things deserve closure. Some things do not deserve to be pushed aside so they can fade over time and eventually be forgotten completely.

Abrupt topic shift here...

After work today I met up with RealTrainGirl at Rich O's. I had an NABC Bourbondaddy. After a while MisunderstoodGirl and GreenBeerDude came in. Tomorrow is MisunderstoodGirl's birthday, and they're going to this Mac & Cheese's bar that I don't really like. I don't know if I'm going or not. I don't like the bar and it's a Tuesday night. It's Amazing Race night, and I have to work Wednesday. We'll see.

Oh yeah, Roger told me that Rich O's will have Newcastle on tap for a while! I'd like to be able to figure out a way to convince him to carry it all the time but he thinks it competes with one of their NABC beers. I think the only similarity is the alcohol content. I'm very much looking forward to being able end my sessions with Newcastle for the next few weekends.

Another abrupt topic shift here...

I'm feeling a little guilty about this past weekend. I have no reason to feel this way, but a lack of reason has never stopped me before. It's not like I'm going to do anything about it - it's just an observation.

Man I'm tired.

...when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
- Sherlock Holmes

This is one of those entries that will probably make sense only to me. That's okay though, it is my 'blog.

Of all the questions I've had scratching away at my brain over the past year or so, I've managed to find the answers to most of them. Sometimes the answer surprised me, sometimes it disappointed me, sometimes it made me happy. But always always always it provided a huge sense of relief.

Just being able to know - to no longer have to guess - I'm not sure that I can describe how freeing it's been for me.

Of course nothing is ever perfect. I haven't been able to find the answers to several questions. Either the answers are hidden, or I'm just not looking in the correct place. Either way, these remaining questions still scratch and pick inside me.

Thinking about these unanswered questions, I've realized that they're all related. They all lead to the same thing. They all lead to same master question that, if answered, would explain everything.

Of all of the types of questions you hear about, this is the toughest kind. It's not who, what, where, when, or how. This is a why question.

I started my quest for the answer to this question a long time ago. I've examined, and discarded, an awful lot of possible answers.

I got down to four possibilities, and I realized that I was getting close to the truth.

Theory T.B. just doesn't hold up to close inspection. There is not enough luck (good or bad) in the universe to allow T.B. to answer this question. Until last month T.B. was one of the leading contenders, but it's pretty much out of the race now.

Theory C.I. at first seems a little more promising. It would explain everything that's happened, BUT it would not explain those things that have not happened. C.I. should produce results that are much more random than what's been observed, yet all the results so far have been greatly skewed to the negative. For C.I. to be the answer there should have been some good in there too.

This morning I awoke to the realization that I'd narrowed the possibilities down to two.

I am sooooo close.

The first of the final contenders is theory E.G.. It is actually an extension of theory T.B.. Theory E.G. would explain the uncanny precision of what I've observed - especially what I've observed over the last month or two.

Finally, I have theory F.A. to consider. I'm extremely familiar with this concept because (a) it's one of my biggest fears, and (b) it's the explanation for the questions several people have asked about my actions.

Neither of these remaining theories have any real evidence against them. Looked at objectively, they seem to be equally possible answers - except for one thing. Theory E.G. just doesn't feel right. It requires too much effort, too much animosity, too much evil. It could be the answer, but I just don't think so.

So that leaves theory F.A. as the most likely answer. I don't have to like it, but I think this just might be the answer I've been looking for. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot find any substantial fault with it. It would be a hell of a coincidence, and a total fuckwad of a situation, but I cannot simply dismiss it because I don't like it.

Anyway, the really nice thing about getting down to these two possibilities, the thing that had me springing out of bed at 4:00 AM to write this entry, the thing that I never ever ever EVER thought would happen, is that (get this, it's important) whichever proves to be the real answer, it will mean that it's not all my fault.

This is just so huge that I'll probably have another one of those days - unseen since November - wherein I cannot stop grinning and giggling.

At this point, I don't care what the answer is. I'd still like to know, but it's no longer imperative for me to find the answer. I may find it some day. People do generally have big mouths after all.

This morning I got Burger King breakfast for me and VigilanteGirl. I ordered the same thing I've always ordered - two Croissanwhatevers with sausage egg and cheese, and an order of hash browns.

I didn't even finish the first Croissanwhatever. I think my stomach is shrinking or something.

Early in the afternoon I tried to mow my yard. It's dried out enough but the temperature outside was about 60 and I'd guess that the wind chill was about minus 342. I only got the front yard mowed before I gave up.

Got a call from TrainGirl!

She had, as I'd figured, already heard about MiddleNameGuy's passing. We just did a little bit of catching up. She says she's happy where she's at, and she sounded happy, but then again she always sounded happy to me. She also asked that question I hate but it didn't bother me, coming from her.

I complained a little to her that Rich O's has lost a lot of its appeal to me. Most of the women that used to frequent the place have either moved out of state or are going to other bars. There are a few leftovers from the old days, like TallLady and Bubbles, but for the most part the women that have been coming into Rich O's lately are so LOUD that they get irritating very quickly. At least my old female friends could hold their alcohol.

The only other thing I've done today is play pool.

So I've got this car. I love this car. I've always spared no expense in keeping it running and looking its best.

I never drive it in the rain. I wash it almost every time I take it out. There is never a speck of trash in the thing.

I take such good care of the car that - I'm scared to drive it lest I damage it somehow.

I'm so afraid of getting a door ding in it that I keep it garaged and only put 100 miles or so on it every year.

I'm so afraid of screwing it up that I get almost no enjoyment out of it.

I'm so paranoid about driving it that I ended up letting it sit and get chewed on by mice all Winter.

What's the sense in having something if you can't allow yourself to enjoy it, and use it for what it's meant for?

If it's not used then it's just going to deteriorate.

I've said before, sometimes life provides its own metaphors. This is a good one.

The purpose of having a nice car is to drive it, enjoy it. Even though there's always a risk of damaging it. To have a nice car that only sits in the garage is a waste.

I've resolved to enjoy my Monte Carlo. To risk the door dings. To let it do what it's meant to do. To be driven.

But the car is just a metaphor. The real question is...

Now that I finally have a functioning heart again, shouldn't I be willing to take the same chances with it?

Wouldn't it be worth the risk?

Perhaps, (back to the metaphor here, try and keep up) but what if it wasn't such a nice car?

What if it was a piece of shit?

What if, by taking this car out on the road, I was endangering the lives of innocent people?

Not so clear now, is it?

Tonight I took it fairly easy on the beer.

I drove my Monte Carlo to Rich O's and decided that it was probably more of a cop magnet than my truck or my Intrepid so all I drank was a draft Mad Bitch and then a couple bottles of Newcastle.

I spent the bulk of the evening talking with ExBartender about shit that I've been going through and lessons I've learned. The guy is a damn good listener and, after several threats, I managed to convince him to resist his urge to try to help.

I hope.

The thing is, the situation is not broken, so it doesn't need fixing. Things are as they are. They are good, they are bad, they are all things in between. There is balance, there is acceptance, there is resolve.

I'm pretty sure I managed to drive those points into his head.

I hope.

Another thing I did tonight was try to call TrainGirl to make sure she'd heard the news about MiddleNameGuy. I ended up leaving her a voice mail, saying I didn't want her to hear about it in that format so she should call me.

She ended up calling later but I didn't notice my phone ringing so I missed the call.

Now I'm realizing that if she reads this 'blog she definitely knows the news already.

For rodent control in the detached garage, what I ended up buying was a couple of these electric doohickeys that are supposed to keep pests away through some nerve irritation or some such.

Just in case they don't work, I also bought a catch-and-release mouse trap.

I figure that if I catch mice in the trap then the electronic doohickeys aren't working and I may have to move on to more drastic measures.