posted by dave on Saturday, July 30, 2005 at 11:47 PM in category drink

Spent most of the night at Rich O's talking with RealTrainGirl. To drink, I had a Smithwick's and then one of these:

Hitachino Nest Real Ginger Ale

(draft) The first few sips, understandably, brought to mind a beer with ginger ale poured into it. By the end of the glass I'd decided that I did like this beer, and that I wished that it was even a little stranger than it was. Very unusual, and very drinkable.

To finish up I had a Guinness.

The night was very ordinary and boring - until about two seconds after RealTrainGirl left.

At that point, as if on cue, these two guys that had been sharing the living room area with us started talking about YouKnowWho. Now exactly what RealTrainGirl's leaving had to do with anything I don't know. What I do know it that both of these guys are assholes.
They know nothing about YouKnowWho but they still started spewing crap about her.

The last time this happened was back in March. At that time I jumped to YouKnowWho's defense and didn't let up until the bitch doing all the badmouthing left in a huff. This time, for a while at least, I let it go.

I got up and went to stand at the bar. It's none of my business what people think, or what people talk about. Plus, I don't care about anything or anyone at all. That's been the theme of this 'blog for a couple of weeks now.

So I stood at the bar and tried not to listen to the two assholes badmouth the person that - well I don't really know how to finish that sentence. There are really no words left in me to describe her and what she's meant to me. Means to me.

I stood at the bar, trying not to listen, and I thought I was having some success at it.

After a bit though, one of them said something that I just couldn't ignore.


So here I've been coasting along for more than two weeks, unable or unwilling to care about anything or anyone. And out of the blue, from left field, out of my ass even, I find something that I feel passionate about. Someone that I feel passionate about. No big surprise that it's the same thing, the same person, that it's been all along.

I sit here now, typing this entry, and I feel nothing once again. It's all like a fuzzy memory of a dream I'm not even sure I had.

Still, it's nice to know that I'm still capable of caring about something.

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