Saturday, July 31, 2010
posted by dave at 10:39 PM in category daily

Today, we saw a weird thing.

In the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana, about halfway between Georgetown and the middle of nowhere, there was a dude. Walking fairly quickly along the side of the road. Dragging a mattress.

It was one of those air-filled mattresses. I don't know if that makes it more or less weird.

I wish we'd thought to stop and take pictures and ask the dude WTF.

I bet it was a really fascinating story.

Now we'll never know.

posted by dave at 3:26 AM in category dreams, travel

I dreamed about being in Las Vegas again. Every night I dream about being in Las Vegas. I can't remember the last time I dreamed about anything else. If this keeps up, by the time I actually go there in a month, I'll be sick of the place.

It hasn't helped that most of these dreams have been really frustrating.

In one, I won a $100 "jackpot" and then I had to spend the entire week doing publicity stuff before they'd pay me.

In another, I was there with some coworkers - they made us all share a room - and all those guys wanted to do was have meetings to talk about work stuff all the time.

In another, I was there for some kind of high school reunion and most of those people were annoying weirdoes who kept wanting me to drive them around.

In tonight's dream, I was there with my cousin Jeff and he'd never been there so I had to play tour guide all the time.

Not once, in any of these dreams, have I been able to see StupidGirl at all. She keeps calling me, but we can never find a time when I'm not busy.

Saturday, July 24, 2010
posted by dave at 8:15 PM in category pictures, quickies
Now my mood has affected HatGirl.
Glub glub
I haven't felt like this in a long time.
The good news is that there was no line at HaircutLady's place. The bad news is that she was closed.
Not sure what happened...
Okay, I slept forever. Next step in my grand plan to have a full life is to get my hairs cut.
I shouldn't be here. Not today.
I wish I could think about something else. It's constant today. No breaks.
I'm in a pretty shitty mood. I hope I get out of it soon, or my weekend will suck.
At least it's breezy.
Now I'm all cultured and shit.
Okay, who in the fuck is that asshole? Wait, I probably don't want to know.
I'm at Rich O's, waiting for OddlyFamiliarGirl. We're going to see some play about some barber. It's opening night. Her daughter is in the play.
I had the most annoying dream. It better not turn out to be true.
My fuse is a lot shorter than it used to be...
The kitty finally showed up! Covered in burrs, poor thing.
None of the above
A nice person would have said hello. A good person would have at least replied.
Sometimes I crack myself up.
That was nice. Sometimes I forget how good it is to just hang out with HatGirl.
At Rich O's, waiting for HatGirl.
The annoying thing is that, had I been asked a week earlier, I'd have loved to have gone.
Or even the prettiest.
What I have to remember is that I'm not the only victim here. Or the most important one.
I'm excited now! Yay!
Trying to beat the storm home!
My stupid phone keeps quacking for stupid weather alerts. It's not supposed to quack, dammit.
Wow, stage one with a vengeance!
Well... looks like the A/C is out in my Intrepid again.
Pizza night!
Maybe I'm just curious. That's as good an explanation as anything else, I suppose.
Why do they have to make mornings come so early in the day?
Monday, July 19, 2010
posted by dave at 7:54 PM in category ramblings

What I'd like to do, see, is write at least one blog entry every day. This has proven to be extremely hard (that's what she said) because (a) I don't feel like it, and (b) I don't want to, and (c) I don't care.

I've always wondered what I'd write, when I didn't care what I wrote. I guess there have been a few examples of such indifference in the past. Mostly, those entries suck, but every now and then they turn out to be at least halfway decent.

This will not be a halfway-decent entry. Not even close.

That's what she said.

I scratch at the surface of my mind, and I try to uncover something, anything, that's not related to you-know-what. This effort is usually futile, and it's proving to be futile this evening.

Fuck. Stage one sucks.

But I still know that there's something worthwhile down there, hidden. A little diamond in the rough that will make it look like I know what I'm doing.

But I can't find it. I don't even know where to look.

That's what she said.

posted by dave at 12:13 AM in category ramblings

The problem with letting my fingers type, like I'm doing right now, isn't that they're incapable of stringing sentences together. Quite the opposite, in fact. Many times they do much better than my brain would do facing the same challenge.

The problem is that, by taking my brain out of the mix, the problem is that I'm also taking my thoughts out of the mix, and leaving my emotions to, um, anchor the entire recipe.

Okay, so maybe that metaphor was a bit of a stretch. So sue me.

Now, in the past I've often given one guess as to what my emotions might revolve around, but you people don't even need one guess. You already know, those of you who've been reading me for any length of time at all. The rest of you, you newcomers, well quite frankly I don't care about any of you. Not yet, anyway.

Speaking of anyway...

Anyway, it constantly amazes me that I'm not pissed off 7x24x365. Equally amazing is that I'm not constantly depressed. But, waaaay beyond those two amazing things, I sometimes manage to be happy.

Me, of all people.

I somehow manage to fluctuate, and I don't know how I manage to do that. And it hurts by brain when I try to figure it out.

I mean, seriously. Everyone On Earth knows that I've been used and abused and taken advantage of. I know these things myself.

But, do I care?

Fuck yes, I care. A lot more than I've been letting on but, it seems, not enough. Never quite enough.

Okay, so what am I going to do about it?

Not much, it seems. Just muddle through, like I always do. Wait for it to finally be enough. Meanwhile, after all, the good times are pretty fucking wonderful. Still fantastically surreal even after all this time. So I enjoy things when I can, and I endure the rest when I must. It doesn't even out, and it's become harder and harder to enjoy those good times, but oh well.

For a while there, I thought that maybe I'd survive this. At first, calluses formed, and it looked like they might protect me. But, after months and months and years and years of constant grinding, the calluses went away. Now there are only open sores oozing nasty smelly fluid which, while vile and disgusting, I'm still pretty sure I need because they're part of me.

I know, that was gross. Sue me again.

I really don't know if I'm going to survive this, or ever get over this. This wasn't just a huge blow to what self-esteem I might have had, it's something that's still going on. Every single second of every single day of every single week of every single month, it goes on.

The wounds ooze.

How can they ever heal? How can I ever heal?

I know, or at least I think I know, the answer to those questions. But I don't like those answers, so I feign ignorance. I lie to myself and to her and I perform in this stupid little play.

I hang onto this thread. I walk this thin ice. I endure blow after blow. And I pretend that everything is fine. I pretend that I'm fine, or at least that I will be fine.

But the truth is there, buried deep enough that usually I'm the only one who really sees it. The truth that I'm waiting and expecting to die at any minute. For the thread to snap, or for the ice to break, or for the killing blow to mercifully land and end this nonsense once and for all.

And the other truth, the one that keeps me awake at night, is that I don't know if I'll go quietly when the end finally comes. I fear the things I might choose to say as my last words.

So there.

Sunday, July 18, 2010
posted by dave at 11:37 PM in category pictures, quickies
Biting my tongue, big time.
Remembering accidental footsie.
Had a nice night and didn't get too paranoid.
I thought we'd moved beyond this bullshit. I guess not.
I took too long a nap earlier. Now I'll be up forever.
Lots of horizontal lightning. Way cool.
Sitting in my garage with LaptopGirl's cat. It's about to storm, and the humidity is a billion percent.
I ate waaaaaay too much.
I wish she wasn't so damn beautiful all the time.
That was fucking creepy.
This is stupid. Glaring at my phone like it's actually going to do something. I'm going to lunch. By myself.
I slept forever. I think I almost feel refreshed.
I can see you, you know. Skulking around. You're not as sneaky as you think.
It's not because I don't care. It's only because I get tired of waving at a statue.
Landed... Louisville.
In Chicago. Have an hour-long layover. Oh the joy.
Boarding for Chicago now...
Rockbottom Big Horn Nut Brown Ale
(draft) Color of clear dark tea. Nice whitish head. Aroma and flavor of light roasted malts. Finish a little dry. Quite good.
Because Delta sucks so hard, now I won't be getting home until after 6:00.
Looks like it's supposed to storm all day back home. I hope my flight doesn't get delayed.
"Embrace your life, find out what it is that you love, and pursue it with all your soul. For if you do not, when you come to die, you will find that you have not lived." -- from a book I'm reading
Papa Beer and Mama Beer
I'm still hungry. I should have gotten the 12-oz steak instead of the 8-oz one.
"fuck cancer"
That's what it says on a bumper sticker on a car parked outside. While I appreciate the sentiment, I can't say that I'm in favor of putting it on a bumper sticker like that.
Deja vu
...all over again.
So far, every woman I've talked to in Wisconsin has been a bitch. Must be something in the cheese.
Wisconsin, barely
posted by dave at 4:33 AM in category dreams, ramblings

Back in January, I found myself at this bar called The Green Frog in Bellingham, Washington. I'd gone there because some dude at another bar had told me, in a conspiratorial whisper, that they had a better beer selection there. For the record, he wasn't lying. Because (a), they had Ommegang Chocolate Indulgence on tap. And (b), who cares what else they might have had?

Anyway, I was sitting at the bar, minding my own business, trying not to listen to the jug band "jamming" in front, and this chick got up from a booth and sat next to me. She startled me, not only because she reeked of Patchouli, but because she looked almost exactly like SassyGirl. Seriously, for a second there I actually thought it was her.

But no, it was just another damn hippie. In that part of Western Washington, I'd found, it was hard to even take a piss without getting some splatter on a hippie. I'd learned to ignore them, for the most part. Except when they sat next to me and announced, "Your aura is broken."

Great. One of those hippies. One for whom the years of marijuana smoke and patchouli fumes had caused irreparable brain damage. Next, I expected her to offer to "fix" my aura for a nominal fee. Or maybe she'd do it for free, as long as I didn't mind sacrificing a chicken or something.

"I know," I replied. "But I can't do anything about it. The warranty's expired."

"You don't belong here," she said.

"And just where do you think I belong?" I asked, already tired of the conversation.

"Far away," she replied.

"You got that right," I said.

We talked for a few more minutes, mostly about how much she looked like SassyGirl. I even managed to find a picture on my phone to show her. She admitted the resemblance, so she wasn't completely crazy.

But, she was crazy enough, so I was relieved when she went back to join her friends. I haven't really though about her since, until tonight.

Tonight, or this evening to be more accurate, I was at Rich O's. I'd gone before dinner, and then again after dinner. The first time was to see LaptopGirl, and the second time was to glare at my phone.

During that second visit, I realized that I'd eaten way too much food, and that I needed to go home to sleep. So that's what I decided to do. Except I was on my way out the door and this chick looked up at me and then said to her friend, "That guy's aura is broken."

Whoa, right?

So I sat down at their table and said, "Hi, I'm Dave." Brief introductions ensued, and then I continued. "I couldn't help but overhear," I said. "That's the second time in my life that I've heard someone say that my aura is broken. The first time, I dismissed it as craziness brought on by years of marijuana smoke and patchouli fumes. But you don't look the type. So what's your excuse?"

"No excuse," the possible hippie-in-disguise said. "Sometimes I just see things about people."

"Fair enough," I said, because I'm trying to be more open-minded about shit. "What do you see that makes you say my aura is broken?"

"It is broken," she said. "Like it's been ripped apart. And a lot of it is missing. You're here, but you're not all here. Does that make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," I replied. "A big part of me is missing." I paused. "My heart, to be precise."

"Where did it go?" she asked, with a look of genuine concern on her face. A look that I really appreciated, because I'm really sick and tired of pity and disbelief.

"I think somewhere in Louisville," I replied.

And that was pretty much the end of that conversation, as her husband and/or boyfriend came back from the restroom or wherever and glared at me. I made a graceful exit and went home for a much needed nap.

I dreamed that I was looking for the missing parts of my aura, but they were in Minneapolis, and I got totally lost because the roads up there are totally nonsensical. And the hippie chick from Bellingham was in the car with me, trying to help but only making things worse.

Thursday, July 15, 2010
posted by dave at 12:20 PM in category pictures, quickies
Class is done. The test is after lunch, and then I'm outta here!
Still not enough. Dammit.
I fucking hate that guy.
Well... much for that.
I found a Ruby Tuesday up here!
Halfway done!
I would love to except I hate coffee and I'm a million miles from home.
At least
Things might not be better if they were different, but at least they'd be different.
There are three people I'm not allowed to miss, but I'm doing it anyway. So there, and there, and there.
I came "home" to see three fire trucks and two ambuli in the hotel parking lot. These are almost never a good sign.
Kinda excited to see if I still have a fourth kitty when I get home.
Surly Bender
(draft) Cloudy brown. Nice tan head. Aroma of malts and caramel and hops. Fairly thick mouthfeel. Complex flavor of barley and rye with a nice hoppy finish. Damn good.
I found a Chinese place. So at least I won't starve while I'm here. I didn't see any bars yet, though.
This will seem like a very long flight.
At the airport, hoping to stay awake so I don't miss my flight.
I'm not getting any texts, and stupid AT&T's customer service is closed. This sucks.
Now I'm confused.
I think my nap was too long. Now I'll be up all night.
I like neither sluts nor whores.
Now I'm at work and glaring at my phone. Later I need to pack for my trip and glare at my phone. And I hope to have time to go to Jack's and glare at my phone tonight.
I miss my parents. I wish they were still alive.
Yummy Tremens in a weird glass
First time in a million years that I've been in Rich O's on a Saturday night. There are lots of weirdoes here.
I probably shouldn't text her that I'd like to make her vibrate again, right?
Now I'm at Rich O's. ActualGeorge is here!
Not holding my breath
Had lunch at this Chinese place on Grant Line Rd. It was yummy.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
posted by dave at 4:23 AM in category pictures, quickies
Feels... lightning running through my veins...
Wow, that hasn't happened in a while. Now I guess I'm up for the rest of the night. Oh well.
Don't even bother.
This is what I get for letting my mind wander for two seconds.
Wishing RockGirl the best vacation ever. She's certainly worked hard to deserve it.
I believe that I'm a victim of flaking. I can't wait to see what excuse she comes up with.
How I spend my free time
Some people are mean. Good thing I'm nice. So far. Usually.
I keep going there, almost every day. I might have a problem.
What if people twisted the golden rule, and treated people the way they themselves were being treated? I wouldn't want to live in such a world.
Why can't this old woman realize that there are only a few people I want to t= alk to right now, but none of those people are her?
Has anybody seen my thumbnail? It's gotta be around here somewhere.
At least, this time, I knew exactly what I was getting into.
Happy day!
That right there...that pisses me off.
I guess, if I have to go, I'd rather go in July than January.
Tilting... a windmill.
One of the loads of laundry I did today happened to contain work clothes. So now I can sit in my garage with a Marzen, guilt-free.
There's some kind of shoe-drama going on. I don't claim to understand it.
I wish I could help. Instead, I make things worse. I suck.
I'm at Rich O's. They're playing sad music. I'm in a mood that I like. Sad but not overwhelmed.
I've hooked my iPhone up to my laptop for the first time, and iTunes is finding all kinds of weird music on the laptop. I didn't put any of it there.
Pondering the differences between men and women. We're barely the same species, I think.
I'm being eaten alive, and not in a good way.
Sometimes, I'm a dick. Shocking, I know.
It's not just that I'm afraid of being bitten again, it's also that I'm pretty sure I'd bite back.
I think I'll sleep. Maybe I'll have a good dream.
I guess I should go get my truck one of these years...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
posted by dave at 6:53 AM in category ramblings

According to a friend of mine, my problems aren't important. Her reasoning for this opinion isn't, as with most people, that they don't exist or that they're unwarranted. Nope, it's simply because other people have worse problems, therefore my own don't exist.

Note that this is not a simple matter of comparing the severity of problems and assigning importance accordingly. It's a total dismissal of any problem as long as someone, somewhere, has a problem that is worse.

A nice example might be, You have no right to be sad about your love-life, Dave, because my other friend has cancer.

That was an actual real-life example, by the way.

Taking this logic to its, um, logical conclusion, I realized something.

Nobody is allowed to be sad or complain. Ever.

Take any person with any problem. There's almost definitely someone out there with a worse problem, so our hypothetical first person isn't allowed to lament at all. He's a dick if he gripes about his kid dying because there's somebody else who had two kids die. And then there's somebody else who had two kids die and he has a hangnail. It goes on and on, until you get to the person with the worst problems in the world.

You might think that the poor sap with the worst problems would be the only one on Earth with free reign to feel sorry for himself. But nope, because there are other people who are dead. Even the poor sap has it better than dead people, so he can't be sad or complain either.

I, of course, disagree with this entire line of reasoning. Maybe that's because complaining and feeling sad are some of my favorite things to do, and they're what I'm best at.

I guess what I'm saying is, just because something else has a bigger problem, that doesn't mean that our own problems aren't important. They're important to us, after all.

Feel better now?

Saturday, July 3, 2010
posted by dave at 11:16 PM in category pictures, quickies
Please disregard.
That was nice of her. She must be up to something...
Sitting alone and listening to the neighbors set off fireworks. As always, the perfect summarization to my life.
Trying to decide between disalieved or relappointed...
Well I don't get/have to go to Kansas City this weekend. Now I get/have to figure out someplace else to go.
So there.
I wonder if that was a hint. I so suck at hints.
It's not even pizza night, but I'm craving pizza.
Today I tried an experiment. It seems to have failed, but I might try again. I'm stubborn sometimes. That trait clashes with my lack of patience.
He said I was passive-aggressive.
It's not always that I get irritated. Sometimes it's quite the opposite.
That one dude who creeped HatGirl out is here. I think I'll blame everything on him. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.
It's a really nice night. I would take a long walk if I didn't have to get up so early tomorrow.
My air conditioning is working again! Finally!
Still have no air conditioning in this house. Still waiting for them to show up. They're 90 minutes late now.
My car will be ready to be picked up in the morning!
I have cable and internet again!
I'm dreading going back to my hot house.
I only saw about half of my sister's cats. The others must have been scared of me and hiding.
My stupidity never warranted special mention before. I must have exceeded expectations. Yay me!
"You're not that old." -- StupidGirl
I need a new life.
I have to buy new shoes. These shoes have sucked since the time I bought them, and now the glue is all melted because of the heat. Never buy shoes from Target!
It's just hard to let go. She was my life, dammit! I need more time. Maybe, in fifty years, I'll be able to let go. Don't count on it, though.
Got my hairs cut. Now I'm at Rich O's where the air conditioning works.
No A/C in the house or any of the cars. No cable or internet in the house. Having a great day.
I wasn't expecting that to happen. I don't think I like it.
Now I'm more pissed than ever.
mysterious gray box mysterious blue box mysterious red box mysterious green box mysterious gold box

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