Sunday, October 31, 2010
posted by dave at 11:42 PM in category

I don't have anything new for Halloween, so I'll just repost this old entry.

Halloween is in a couple of days, so I thought I'd write about the only "true" story of the supernatural that I've ever been a direct witness to.

My grandmother died on September 27, 1998 in a nursing home. Before she went to the home she'd lived in a relative's home for about a year. Before that, she'd been in the same house for nearly 60 years. That's the house I'm talking about here.

I grew up about 100 yards from MaMaw's house, and I spent a very large part of my childhood in it. With my parents working all the time my sisters and I spent nearly as much time in that old house as we did in our own. All of my cousins would come over to play pretty often. We had Christmas lunch there. From the time I was about 10 until I was 18 I spent at least two nights every week in that house.

No matter how much time I spent there, the house still scared the shit out of me sometimes.

It's just a creepy house. The upstairs in particular - many of the rooms have crudely-nailed panels blocking access to or from the attic. As a kid I was always afraid of those areas and would usually sneak past them while watching carefully for an arm, or a tentacle, or whatever I was most afraid of during that particular time in my life.

But enough background. I was a kid. It was an old house. It scared me.

A couple of days after my grandmother died my cousin Jeff and I went up to the old house to look around. Though nobody had lived there for over a year, there was still electricity and water since my uncle had been using it for storage.

This was the first time I'd been in the house since MaMaw had died, and it was the first time Jeff had been there in at least a few years.

So we went into the house and were immediately stunned by how warm it was. It must have been over a hundred degrees there. The furnace was going full-blast and the registers were almost too hot to touch.

I went to the thermostat against the kitchen wall and, sure enough, it was set at the absolute maximum. I turned it back down to about 50 or so and Jeff and I continued our explorations.

The next day I mentioned to another cousin (one who's father was using the old place for storage) that I'd lowered the thermostat.

He got a quizzical look on his face, and told me that there was no way that the furnace could have been going, that there was no way that the house could have been that warm.

You see, when my grandmother had moved out of the house, over a year earlier, they'd removed the propane tank.

I confirmed this rather alarming fact myself. The house had no gas supply. The furnace had no fuel. The pilot light was long dead.

So that's the story of the weirdest thing I've ever experienced. If I was better at writing about scary stuff I bet you'd be shitting your pants right about now.

Saturday, October 30, 2010
posted by dave at 9:49 AM in category pictures, quickies
I went to bed around 1:30. I guess I slept. The next thing I knew was it was 9:00 and I was awake and Buddy was singing his song of starvation in my face.
Sadness achieved.
Stone Vertical Epic 09.09.09
(bottle) Indigo with a nice tan head. Enticing aroma of peaches and plums. Mouthfeel a little thin but coating. Flavor more tame than the aroma led me to expect. Good though.
I have a crush on this Purple Kelly chick.
I'm in a ranty mood. I will attempt to restrain myself. Nobody deserves the words I want to say.
It would be cool if I could bring Buddy to work. Once his fur grows back out, I mean.
I just caught myself glaring at my phone.
Maybe those ten hours of sleep will prove to be enough. I think I feel better this morning.
This is stupid. I'm going to bed.
The problem is that no food is good.
This guy at stupid Bearno's is the worst bartender in history.
I feel guilty. I suck.
I'm totally unmotivated this morning. I kinda want to just go back to bed, but even that seems like too much effort.
I don't feel like I should sleep tonight. I feel like, tonight, I should stay up. I wish I had beer.
I might be sick. That's all I need.
I was all set to write that I was worried because I hadn't seen Picklepie since Sunday morning, but then he showed up.
Now I'm at stupid Bearno's. I forget why.
Hmmm, the one dude should be wearing the same clothes, and the other dude should be dressed differently.
I want to write a manifesto now.
Seriously? No kidding? Okay, fine.
Upland Kimodo Dragon
(draft) Black with a tan head that faded quickly. Malty aroma. Thin mouthfeel. Decent flavor of malts and licorice. Disgusting hoppy metallic finish. Gross.
Now maybe everyone will shut up about how happy they are about the rain.
Storms and tornadoes all day today, and I'll be stuck at work like a chump.
Got sucker-punched by a buddy this evening. I probably deserved it. Goodnight, cruel world.
Oh boy, the world's most closeted guys are here.
I liked the old Elector girl better. She looked more like HatGirl.
DeadLady is here.
Yes, still. Get over it.
Sierra Nevada Fritz & Ken's Stout
(bottle) Black with a nice beige head. Aroma of roasted malts and chocolate and licorice. Thick mouthfeel. Flavor milder than I was expecting. Quite good.
I'm thinking that I'm going to be selfish and childish about this.
OddlyFamiliarGirl flaked on me. I'm not sure I'm up to the task of distracting myself tonight.
I am officially starving to death. I may not have the strength in me, but I need to try to go to the stupid store. The problem with going to the stupid store when I'm starving is that I buy one of everything. And I have no idea what I'm hungry for. Something I can eat with chopstick, maybe? Like Lucky Charms.
That's exactly what I thought would fucking happen.
Well, that was, um, interesting.
People suck, especially the ones at the haunted Burger King.
I'm worried that a possum stole my rock.
The problem with a good time is that it makes me remember great times. The problem with remembering great times is that it makes me wish for fantastic times.
I had a nice night. Now I'm having a nice Marzen. In a bit, I'll go to my nice bed.
My blackberry spell checker thinks "mu" is a word.
I want to know what's so damn interesting.
In about 90 minutes, I get to go to bed!
I was just thinking about a really great day, and it made me smile.
I moved to the bar to get away from a pair of weirdoes, but an even weirdoer pair came in and sat next to me at the bar.
In disguise
I'm all sneaky and stuff...
Maybe I wasn't the one who failed...
After sleeping on it, I've decided that it just doesn't count.
Too long of a wait, too close, and now way too far away.
Three Floyds Moloko
(draft) Black with a thin brown head. Sweet and chocolatey aroma. Very creamy mouthfeel. Flavor is sweet, with malts and a bit of dark chocolate. Alcohol very well-hidden. Good.
Some old woman is here today instead of CartGirl.
I've been sleeping too much.
Also, I was going to say something clever now, but I forgot. Your loss, I suppose.
If that's the last thing I get to tell her, I can live with that.
That's what I think.
I had a feeling that would work. Goodnight, cruel world.
Sausagefest at Jack's. I miss OddlyFamiliarGirl.
I'm feeling very writey tonight, but I'm not feeling particularly topicky. See, I'm just making up words now.
What great about English is that you can say, "Fucking fuck that fucking fucker!" and your meaning is perfectly clear.
The question is - what's the easy thing?
Land of the Lost
Even Will Ferrell can't do anything for this stinker of a movie.
Went to the house of a million cats, but only counted a half-million. Now I'm at Rich O's.
I think I proved my point. And I don't feel mean at all. Just tired.
Sometimes something is worse than nothing.
I hate people.
This day is dragging. In about 800 million years I'll get to go home.
It's a wild goose chase!
And I think about the things on the other side of this wall we slammed into.
That's funny.
I'm not supposed to think about that!
What a long day at work!
I was up too late, and I got up too early. I predict that I'll be very tired before this day is over.
Wow, I'm up way too late. How did that happen?
Home now. Wishing I could help more. Wishing I mattered more.
All done yelling and shopping. Nappy-time I think.
Now I'm at Sportstime. I'm going to eat and then maybe glare at my phone for a while.
Taking a vacation day to go yell at everyone.
I think this is the first time I've ever owed any money for taxes.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
posted by dave at 11:51 PM in category ramblings

I want to say something now.

But, I won't.

How many times have I said it before? A dozen? A hundred? How many times have I promised myself and promised those who care about me?

Too many.

I've been wrong every single time.

How many times have I wished it before? A thousand? A million? How many times have I lost hours and hours and days and days of sleep wishing?

Too many.

That wish, like its opposite, has always gone unfulfilled.

So, tonight, I'm not going to say it, and I'm not going to wish it.

I'm going to think it, though.

I think therefore...

For the moment at least.

posted by dave at 4:21 PM in category daily

So I was coming back into my building at work. Right when I started to open the door, a young girl screamed at the top of her lungs.

This was weird because I usually don't have quite that effect on young girls. Not quite.

After I'd had four or five heart attacks, and she'd probably peed her pants a little, she said that I'd startled her by going for the door at the same time as her.

At least that's what she said. So maybe it wasn't my hideous appearance.

posted by dave at 9:32 AM in category daily

I just didn't see how any good could come of it. I had no desire to be seen as yet another orbiter, engaged in stupid subtle pissing contests and territorial displays.

There's just no point anyway. The winner was preemptively decided a long time ago.

Anyone but Dave is the fucking winner, okay?

I get it. It took me a while, but I get it.

There are lines that I will no longer cross, and I'm drawing new lines all over the place. I think that my hope is that eventually these lines will stack to form a new wall around me.

Meanwhile, I've got this damn thing staring me in the face.

Yesterday, on facebook, a group was formed consisting of former members. When that site died a couple of years ago, those of us in that community were left to scatter. Now a bunch of them are on facebook and they've formed a new group. I'm not really sure why. Just to see who's still alive, I guess. And to find out what everyone's real names are. On JS almost everybody used handles instead of names. I went by barenada for one blog and anonymousme for another.

I joined the group yesterday, having been invited by NakedGirl. A few people remembered me, and I remembered a few more. Weird to see them posting by their real names. Anyway...

Found ya! Yay. Have to find out what happened to that relationship with the woman, who you desparately loved, but missed the chance with!
And now I don't have the slightest idea how to respond. So I'll probably say nothing.

Sunday, October 24, 2010
posted by dave at 10:25 PM in category ramblings

Now it's after 10:00. I'm up too late again. I have to get up at 5:00, after all.

Why am I still awake?

There's no reason that I can think of. I'm not even glaring at my phone tonight, so even that old standby of an excuse is no good.



I should have gone. But, I didn't. But, I should have. Maybe I'll get another chance. If so, then I'm fucking going. I'll deal with the aftermath later, but I deserve a chance, no matter how slim, at a happy life.

I really do.

Thursday, October 21, 2010
posted by dave at 12:26 AM in category ramblings

If I was going to write something now, as I wait for my clothes to finish washing so I can throw them into the dryer, if I was going to write something now, I guess I'd write about how sometimes I just get pissed about it all.

I'd write that I try to be reasonable. I really do. And I'd write that I know that it's both silly and futile to be angry about it. Much more understandable to simply be sad, but sad gets old after a while. Anger always seems new. Like it's something special. Something that might last, I might write.

But then I'd write about how it never lasts. About how I always catch myself and I feel guilty. Because I have no evidence that this was done to me as opposed to in spite of me. No evidence at all, unless you count the words of everyone on Earth. And I don't. Or at least I try not to.

If I was going to write something now, I'd probably go off on a real tear about things.

Good thing my laundry is done, so I can stop before I write anything.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010
posted by dave at 9:43 PM in category dreams

Speaking of weird dreams...

Nice segue, I know. Thanks for noticing.

Twice in the last two weeks, I've had myself a sex dream about a particular girl. But that's not the weird part. I am a guy after all. It's a wonder I ever have any non-sex dreams.

The weird part is who the dream was about. It's nobody that anyone would ever guess, at least not unless I let them have a dozen or so guesses. Or maybe a million.

And both times the sex kinda sucked. Not from lack of trying, but from lack of something else. Something intangible. Like we were just going through the motions and that was it. And there was more effort than there should have been, like we weren't quite in-sync. Two rhythms clashing, neither able nor willing to compromise and find common ground.

I've written before, lots of times, that I believe that dreams are metaphors for real life. So I wonder what this particular pair of dreams was symbolizing.

Wasted effort was my first guess. But then I had a thought that maybe I wasn't even in the dream at all. Like maybe both participants were metaphors for someone else.

But then my brain exploded and I stopped trying to analyze the dreams.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010
posted by dave at 1:35 PM in category daily

I used to have a shitload of pictures up in my cubicle at work. Then, when they let me go, I hung the same pictures up in my office during a consulting gig. When that engagement was over, well I don't have a clue what I did with my pictures. Most, if not all, of these pictures could simply be reprinted, but I keep thinking I'll find them. They're in a white envelope.

Phone Doohickey
This is an adapter that lets me connect my old phone earbud/microphone to my new phone. The hole on the newer phone is bigger than it was on the old phone. I could use the earbuds/microphone thingy that came with the new phone, but I like the old earbud/microphone thingy that I've always used. It's only got one earbud instead of two, and that's all I want. This missing adapter doohickey is in a white plastic bag. I don't, however, know where the bag is. The last time I saw the bag was at work.

Pool Glasses
These are glasses that I had specially made with the focal point at the top of the lenses instead of in the center. This allowed me to shoot pool more naturally without having to strain my neck by craning my head upwards so much. The last time I saw them, they were in the bathroom.

Tripod Thingy
This is the part that sits between the camera and the tripod. I have no clue where it might be. I tried to find it for my nephew's funeral, but I had no luck.

Air-mattress plug
I think Dina lost this. She borrowed my air-mattress once, and I don't think I've seen the plug since. The plug is the thing that keeps the air in. It's the thing that makes it an air-mattress instead of a thick plastic sheet.

Fucking Binoculars
I owned these for about 8 hours. I took them camping, and I'm pretty sure that I saw them again once I got home, but I'm not positive. These things have been missing for about 5 years now, and I haven't bought a new pair because I'm pissed that I can't find the old ones.

Sunday, October 17, 2010
posted by dave at 3:08 PM in category ramblings

I had this thought, this entirely different way of looking at things. I had it, a week ago today, and it led me to a place I'd never expected to be again. The thought is gone now. It's gone back into hiding inside my head.

But, it's in there. Just knowing that it's in there means a lot to me. Just knowing what's possible means the world to me.

Wait a second. That wasn't entirely true. It didn't go back into hiding. I did.

A wise man once wrote:

Like an animal raised in captivity, when I became too afraid of the opportunities and obstacles presented by my newfound freedom, I ran back into the comfort and safety of my cage.

But it's okay. I feel safe in here. I feel like myself in here. In here, everything is perfectly clear. All of my hopes and dreams and desires, in here they're all the same. There are no wrong choices in here. There are no choices at all.

And now I can't even remember what I'd been thinking. Like the memory of a dream, it faded too quickly, and now I'm left confused and dumb. Trying to decide if I'd really dreamed at all.

The easy thing isn't always the right thing. I wish that it was. I wish a lot of things.

Saturday, October 16, 2010
posted by dave at 10:51 PM in category ramblings

So I was thinking earlier about some bullshit. The way people paint themselves into corners, and then they whine about being stuck.

I suppose I've pretty much done that to myself, but that's not what I was thinking about today. Nope, today I was thinking about a couple of girls I know and how they've managed to slut their respective ways to solitude.

Yes, slut is also a verb. It is now anyway.

And also, eventually people stop thinking of things as the way a person is acting and they start thinking instead that those things are representative of the way a person is. This happens a lot, and it's usually well-deserved.

When listening to disparaging words, I don't always stay silent because I don't know what to say or because simply listening is all that's wanted. Sometimes, sometimes I stay silent because I'm in complete agreement, and I don't want to seem cruel.

Thursday, October 14, 2010
posted by dave at 7:43 PM in category daily

Go read this.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010
posted by dave at 7:58 AM in category pictures, quickies
Today I get to go file my taxes, as my six-month extension is almost over. Fun times...
I'm doing good. I'm neither surprised nor disappointed.
This Taco Bell flatbread thingy is yummy to my tummy!
He's fine. I was really worried because they took me to a little room and made me wait without telling me anything except the doctor had some information for me.
I haven't heard anything about Buddy yet. I guess they'd call me if got loose and tore the place to shreds. I wouldn't put it past him.
LaptopGirl knows someone who made this
Poor Buddy is so scared.
Come to think of it, that was weird, that they were parked right where I'd chosen to turn around.
Today Buddy gets to go to the vet for a haircut. He's a holy terror, so he has to be sedated first. Poor Buddy.
I feel guilty, but I think that it's just too late.
Managed to catch Nugget, now it's off to the vet.
What am I supposed to say right now? I'm tired of playing the guessing game, and guessing wrong.
Better to see you with
Getting examined for new glasses today. They're having a 2-for-1 sale. I'm also going to have them check this annoying blind spot I have in my left eye.
It's really trafficky this morning. I don't know why for sure, but I suspect a conspiracy.
That is all, just wow.
Now I guess we're going to Red Lobster. I haven't been there for a while. Too bad I already ate a million tater lots about an hour ago.
I need clothes. Maybe I'll go shopping. Too bad I have to put on clothes to go buy clothes.
That's what Buddy is.
Still needs a home...
I wonder if I'll be relieved.
...of a sort.
I'm not having any fun. I should go somewhere.
I'm cautiously optimistic that this might finally be enough. Grrr.
I hope the weekend is good. It's been a shitty week and I'm glad it's Friday.
Sometimes it seems like I really do work in a weirdo factory.
I want one
I guess seven hours of tossing and turning is enough.
I'm going to bed now. I hope I don't dream.
If anyone met me now, they'd want nothing to do with me, and I wouldn't blame them a bit. The only reason that anybody puts up with me is because of inertia.
I should have gone straight home. I'm sad today. Unfit...
I'm really enjoying myself today.
I've been thinking the same thing, about all of this.
Random hot chicks are awesome.
To whom it may concern...
...I miss you.
What sucks is that what I want doesn't exist, but my desire is unabated.
This week is going by way too slowly.
That was very nice. Now that it's over, I'm sad again.
I'm getting excited! Not in that way, you pervert.
It's way too early.
Still Monday
...that things were different. Had been different. Whatever.
How dry I am...
Well, that's just fucking fantastic...
Good morning.
Poor Picklepie is sitting outside meowing to come inside. He's breaking my heart.
Worth a try...
Abracadabra!!!... Hocus Pocus!... Presto?...
Still waiting for the call that it's time to go to work. This went beyond ridiculous about twelve hours ago.
Other thought
What a beautiful girl.
At least two more hours. So much for my Saturday.
What a great kid.
Some people need to be spanked. Hard.
I was just thinking about something funny. He had no clue that I was in bed with her.
Now HatGirl is mad at me.
I miss being up at these hours.
Wake me when this is over.
There are a lot of very short, very ugly people here. I suspect a conspiracy.
Word of the Day
It's either stupessary or necestupid. I can't decide.
There's a word. I'm not going to use the word because it's not very nice, but there is definitely a word.
I might buy a car. Because I really need a fourth car.
Second verse...
...same as the first.
Sticking my head in the sand this morning. Goofy, but necessary.
Again? This time? How can I not see this as a "fuck off" and who on Earth would blame me for returning that sentiment?
Why is it that a cat can always be underfoot, weaving around your feet and trying to trip you, but as soon as you schedule an appointment to get its balls removed, it's nowhere to be found?
I feel like I slept for a million years, and I'm wondering what bizarre new world the sunrise will reveal.
And still I manage to be surprised and disappointed, every fucking time.
Fine, be that way.
Wow, this show is awesome.
I got to see HatGirl for the first time in 73-billion years.
That was fun and useful.
It can't be morning already, I distinctly remember my head hitting the pillow and that couldn't have been more than five minutes ago.
...but especially the truths.
Even the lies...
My problem is that I remember.
Sometimes the right thing is also the stupid thing.
Buddy being stuck-up
Nugget wookin' at something
I've got an urge to go buy a new camcorder. I don't know why.
I went to the store and bought a bunch of yummy looking stuff. Now I can't decide what to eat.
I can feel my resolve fading away. I hate it when that happens.
It could have been a great story, but instead it's kinda lame.
Now the night took a turn for the better.
Oh boy
That fuckhead is here now.
Long enough
I think I've made my point.
I knew it would be a good day.
By the way
Happy anniversaries. So there.
If you bend a piece of metal back and forth enough times, it will break. Sometimes I conveniently forget that fact.
This should be a good day. I hope so.
There's a dude here who looks just like Dana Carvey, except taller I think.
This is the sssssslllllllooooowwweeesstttttttt day ever.
Too relieved to sleep, apparently.
Whew again
Buddy is fine, just naughty.
Buddy waiting and wondering why the carrier smells like pee
Nugget is fine. Just fat.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
posted by dave at 9:44 PM in category daily

Wow, this day really dragged by, but then the hours between 6:30 and 9:30 were gone in a blink. It's already past my bedtime.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this entry. Probably nowhere. I don't have any particular topic in mind. I just wanted to write something. I get so tired of not writing something.

It's all fine with me, actually. Very weird, I know. I haven't been fine in a long time. I'm not sure what happened. I think maybe I just changed my perspective a little. There was certainly nothing earth-shattering. Maybe I started focusing on the tree instead of the forest. Maybe I stopped being angry and sad about the things and maybe I finally noticed the reasons for the things. Maybe I'm in denial yet again, but I really don't think so.

It's different this time. It might even last, this time.

Meanwhile, my cat Buddy is here at my feet. He's all shaved, except for his legs and his tail and his head. He really does look ridiculous, but I'm not going to tell him that or he might rip me to shreds. I can tell that he's really embarrassed. Especially since, to add insult to injury, they put a foo-foo ribbon around his neck.

Nugget is, of course, hiding under the sofa. He doesn't recognize the new "improved" Buddy. I don't think he even realizes that it's a cat, let alone that it's the same cat that's been his friend for his entire life.

Man, I seem to be writing about cats a lot lately. What am I, on the internet or something?

posted by dave at 7:32 AM in category daily

As I've said before, I like to go and read through my old entries. It reminds me that I used to be a better writer than I am now. These were originally three different entries. I have combined them for your convenience.

This is kinda cool to me.

I was sitting at The Hard Rock in Louisville for lunch. I usually go to The Pub, but it was too crowded today, plus I wanted some potato skins.

Anyway, I was sitting at the bar, and down about four or five seats from me were two hot girls. A short-haired blonde and a long-haired brunette. Both pretty, but in very different ways. One sexy and sultry, the other perky and vivacious.

So I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out which one was the hotter of the two. I know, it's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.

I kept glancing over there, getting no closer to making up my mind as to which was hotter, and eventually the blonde caught me looking. She kind of smiled. I smiled back, then turned back to my food, 'cause I'm all shy and shit. I could see out of the corner of my eye that both girls were now looking at me, though I couldn't hear what they were saying. Probably arguing over which of them was hotter, I figured.

I'd just about decided to stage a kissing contest between them when the blonde spoke to me.

"You kept looking over here at us for a half-hour, and now you've suddenly stopped. What's up with that?" she asked in a not very nice way.

"Well," I said. "I was trying to decide which of you would be my new girlfriend, but now I've made up my mind and I don't have to look any more."

"Oh really?" the blonde said. She was smiling, so she was at least slightly amused.

"Yep," I said. "You're both very pretty, but I'm thinking that you're not very nice, so I choose your friend."

"You sure know how to hold a grudge," the blonde said.

Hold on a second. That didn't make any sense.

"Huh?" I asked. 'Cause I'm all eloquent and shit.

"Don't you remember me?" the blonde asked. "Look closely. Don't you know who I am?"

She then got up and walked over to me and stuck her face right in front of mine.


After a couple of seconds, I guess a little tiny sense of familiarity crept into my head. I began to feel that I should know who this cocky loud pretty girl was, but I had no real chance to investigate that feeling because that's when her friend finally spoke.

"What are you doing?" she asked the blonde. And then she said her name.

She said her name, and a door inside my head creaked open, and I remembered.

I remembered a party, in Hancock's field, a long time ago. I remembered waking up in the back of my parents' Mercury Comet, wearing only my underwear and a jacket. I remembered digging through the trash on the floorboards, looking for my keys and my shoes and my pants and my shirt. I remembered finding all those things, and I remembered also finding a little blue sock, and one of those hair barrette thingies, and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels, and an empty condom wrapper.

I remembered going to a basketball game at school a couple of weeks later, and being greeted like an old friend by a cute blonde girl wearing a Providence High School Jacket. Being greeted like more than a friend actually.

I remembered confessing that I didn't remember meeting her, being with her, at all. That I'd woken up in the back of my car alone and confused and unclothed. I remembered how she laughed that off, and how she'd said that she'd have to try harder to be memorable the next time.

I remembered that the next time started about fifteen minutes later, in my cousin Jeff's station wagon.

I remembered countless nights after that, sneaking out of my house with my friend Eddie. I remembered that he'd drop me off at where she worked, or to where she lived. I remembered lying on her bed, holding hands and listening to Pink Floyd. I remembered doing a lot of other things in her bed.

I remembered the night she told me that she loved me, and how I'd echoed those words right back at her. I remembered how we started to tell people that we were engaged. That as soon as my basic training was over, and I was stationed at my first base, we'd get married and raise kids and we'd always laugh about how, on the night we'd met, I was too drunk to even remember her.

I remember how everyone said we were crazy.

I remembered how she'd come to the Air Force induction center to see me off. I remembered holding her close and telling her that I'd see her again in a few short weeks, and that we'd be together from that moment on.

I remembered that I'd never seen her again.

Not for more than 23 years.

Until lunch today.

So once I picked my jaw up off the floor, I just looked at her. I had no idea what to say, what to ask, what to feel. She saved the day by doing all the talking. She's been married for a long time. She has two grown children. She still loves Pink Floyd, and she still has most of The Wall memorized. I stammered out that I do too.

She said that I hadn't changed a bit, which was a beautiful lie. I said that she hadn't changed either, and as proof I offered up the fact that it had taken me so long to remember her.

We didn't discuss what had happened, back in 1983. Why she'd moved. Where she'd gone. There wasn't time for any of that, and there wasn't really a need for any of that. We were each others' distant past, and that was all that we were.

As I gave her a hug and said goodbye, I wondered if it would be another 23 years before I saw her again. I wondered if I'd do a better job of remembering her in 23 years. I wondered if I'd even remember my own name in 23 years.

Anyway, I guess that makes it official. I have officially run out of women. Time to dig out that little black book from high school, and start over.


Not that it really matters. I'm just a little surprised. But I found some stuff out today.

You only knew each other for a few months before he joined the Army. And as far as I know, after your fumbling attempts to date, the only times you saw each other were when I was there with you. Shit, I think Eddie was screwing that one chick non-stop for about six months before he left. What was her name? Linda or Lindsey or some shit like that? I can't remember, but she works at my bank now. She did the paperwork for my home loan. She didn't remember me from the old days.

But I digress.

I'm pretty sure that you two never hooked up when I was still around. It must have been after. After I'd left for basic training, Eddie must have come home on leave or something. He must have looked you up, or maybe he just happened to run into you at the floodwall or at some party.

You probably got to talking about the good old days, and something happened between you two. I wonder who made the first move. Probably you, I'm guessing.

And now you've been married for over 20 years, and have two grown children with him.

Pretty weird. But it explains why I never saw either one of you again. Because you were ashamed.

I'm not sad. I'm not even angry. It's not like I just lost a friend and a girlfriend. I lost you both a long time ago. It's just that now I finally know why. So that's good. Mystery solved.

If anything, I'm a little miffed that I didn't get the chance to find out, to be angry, back when it first happened. That's a lesson that, had I learned it a little earlier in my life, that might have sent me on a completely different path.

Plus, I had you first, and that's hilarious to me. I wonder, back in the beginning, when what you did with Eddie could still have been seen as cheating on me, I wonder how many times you called out my name by mistake.

I wonder if you still call out my name, every now and then. You know, just to keep him on his toes.

'Cause he needs to be on his toes. He married a whore, after all.

Sunday, October 10, 2010
posted by dave at 12:19 AM in category ramblings

My mind just doesn't seem to be able to stop today. No matter how much I've wanted to stop thinking, I've just kept doing it and doing it and doing it and doing it...

At one point, around 3:00, I was tired and I was going to take a nap, but then I got distracted by some stupid daydream or something and I totally forgot that I was tired, so I went to Rich O's instead. I'm pretty sure that going to Rich O's is the exact opposite of taking a nap.

And now it's midnight Saturday night. I think I've slept about an hour since Thursday morning. As a result, I expect to ramble. You've been warned.

I don't know why. I don't know why this week has been so much worse than the weeks and months and years that came before. I don't know why, but it is. It fucking is.

Pretty soon I'm going to sleep. I'm going to collapse, and then I'll sleep. This is my plan. It's a good plan.

I wish I had some topics all lined up nice and neat, so I could just pick the next one in line and write about it. But nooooooooo, I've got nothing except the same old bullshit.

You know what pisses me off? Besides everything, I mean?

All of my friends used to root for me They wished for me the same thing that I wished for myself. But not anymore. Nope, now everyone is rooting against me, and so I'm on my own.


One of the things I thought today was that I've been looking for a switch, but I should have been looking for a cure.

Another thing I thought was that there are an awful lot of things that I cannot do, but there's one thing that I'll be able to do forever. Luckily, it happens to be one thing I'm really fucking good at doing.

I also found myself wondering earlier. Wondering is a dangerous thing for me to do. It almost never leads to anything good. But this time I think it was okay. I was wondering if I would feel relief. You know, when it finally ends once and for all. I don't know if I would or not. Certainly not right away. Right away would suck. I might not even survive. But, eventually, maybe I'd be relieved. I dunno. It's not something I like to think about, to be honest.

Next subject, please.

I spent a couple hours out on my deck with Picklepie tonight. He's such a great cat. Easily the most affectionate cat I've ever known. It breaks my heart that he's got so much discomfort in his future.

And I had a brilliant idea for a novel tonight. Or at least a short story. Next month is November - maybe I'll try that nanowrimo thingy this year. I know, I always say that, but then I never write shit. I've been distracted for the last seven years.

Wow, seven fucking years.

This is a cancer upon my life.

Friday, October 8, 2010
posted by dave at 1:19 PM in category daily

I dunno, I guess I just feel like writing something. I'm a little bored at the moment. Just watching the clock with one eye and glaring at my phone with the other eye. So yes, I'm typing this blind.

Whenever that was, a week or two or three ago - time blurs for me lately - I took my cats Nugget and Buddy to the vet to be tested. I've mentioned it before, but I have LaptopGirl's cat living on my deck. Well, a couple of times he came inside my house. He's a fast little fucker. And when I took Picklepie (the cat) to the vet for shots and testing, he tested positive for the feline leukemia virus.

This sucks, by the way.That poor kitty. But it not only sucks for Picklepie, it could very well have sucked for my "real" cats Buddy and Nugget, too.

So I took them in, one at a time because they're too fat for both of them to fit in the carrier at the same time. Nugget was first. I scheduled him first on purpose, because I knew that if he saw the carrier he would run and hide and I wouldn't see him again until Spring.

Anyway, Nugget tested negative. Whew!

And then I had to do some thinking.

See, if my cats tested positive, then I was just going to bring Picklepie inside and make him an indoor cat. He wouldn't have liked it very much, but he'd have gotten used to it eventually. It would be like I was running a little leper colony for cats.

Alternatively, if my cats tested negative, then I was going to have to try as hard as I could to find a home for Picklepie. He couldn't live inside my house, and it would be totally irresponsible for me to leave him outdoors where he could/would infect other cats.

But, I wondered, what should I do if only one of my cats tested positive? After all, Buddy had been in much closer proximity to Picklepie on those occasions when the latter came inside, Nugget having scrambled into the basement to cower. Buddy would stand his ground, even going so far as to follow Picklepie around the house and smell him.

What I decided, and this wasn't an easy decision, was that if only one of my cats tested positive, I was going to bring Picklepie inside my house even knowing that my other cat would be infected. There was just no way I could see myself separating Buddy and Nugget. They've been together for 11 years, after all. Plus, they're both old, and probably don't have all that many years left anyway. Because the feline leukemia can take years and years to develop, there were pretty good odds that neither of my cats would ever develop it. They'd be dead of some other causes - Buddy probably from too much indignation, Nugget perhaps from getting so scared of a moth that he forgets to breathe for a week - before the leukemia could manifest.

Well, as it turned out, neither of my cats tested positive. Whew again!

And that's what got me to where I am. Where I still am. With a contagious cat that I need to find a home for.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010
posted by dave at 9:43 PM in category daily

So this chick at the mini mart, for some reason, thinks that I'm friendly. Because of that misguided belief, she's always trying to talk to me.

Tonight she asked me, "Quick, think about the 80s. What's your first memory?"

I said what I'm supposed to say, having been me and having lived as myself throughout that entire decade.

"Being present for the birth of my daughter," I said.

That seemed to satisfy the poor girl, so she didn't ask any more questions.

I could have just as easily said "my wedding" or "the first day of basic training" or maybe even "graduating from high school" and any of those responses would probably have shut her up just as well as the thing about my daughter.

What I should have said, what my real first thought about the 80s was, I didn't want to say. I didn't want to tell that semi-perfect stranger at the mini mart.

But I'll tell you people.

One morning Eddie called me and told me that Jackie had finally died. That was the phrasing he used, the fucker.

That was my real first thought about that decade.

Okay, so what about the other decades? What's my first thought about them?

In the 1960s, I saw tears in my dad's eyes as we watched some men bounce around in white suits on a white world. I didn't understand - dad's weren't supposed to cry.

In the 1970s, I walked home from my elementary school graduation. It was about five miles. I wanted to commemorate the occasion, so I walked.

In the 1990s, I had to shoot a match against a really good player. I was afraid to play him because I felt he was better than me. As it turned out, I entered the zone, and I kicked his ass. He never knew what hit him.

In the 2000s, I sat in the parking lot at the Burger King on Grant Line Road, and I heard some words on my phone, and I died.

Monday, October 4, 2010
posted by dave at 11:13 PM in category ramblings

I was thinking earlier today about something I'd been thinking about last week, about something I'd been thinking about two or three years ago when I read a certain book. I don't remember the name of the book. I remember that I kinda liked it, though. Light-something, I think it was called.

I don't think I'll feel that bad for myself, should I continue down this path and die childless. After all, people die childless all the time. Why should I be different? I do try to live my life the right way, and I try to help the people I care about. I guess they're surrogate children, of a sort. Sometimes those people even let me help. That's nice of them.


Last week, I was in the hospital talking with my grandmother. My last grandmother. My last grandparent. My last remaining ancestor. It's hard to describe, the thoughts that were going through my head and I sat and chatted with her, for what at the time I thought might be the last time.

My mind went back, as it had years ago when I read that book. My mind went back and back and back and back...

Now, anyone who knows me also knows that as far as religion goes I'm an agnostic at best. This means that I believe in evolution. This means that I believe, just as strongly as some people believe in an invisible man in the sky who controls everything but prefers to let people suffer, I believe that my family tree goes back much farther than 6,000 years or whatever those crackpots zealots believe. I believe that my family tree goes back billions of years. I think that 3.7 billion years is the current estimate. For the beginning of life on Earth.

Back then, back at the beginning, there was something. probably a single-celled organism, but maybe something even more primitive. Maybe just a clump of amino acids that had clumped together just right. Whatever it was, there was a first. The first life on Earth. And then, because of the first, there was a second, then a third, and a fourth. And then, millions and millions and millions of generations later, here I sit. Letting my fingers type into this journal because my brain is too distracted by a sweet heart and a pretty face to be bothered to write anything coherent or relevant.

If I should die childless, I will feel bad. But not, as I said, for myself. Nope, I will feel bad for the first. For breaking a chain forged billions of years ago. Because the first sprang from nothing, and that effort, against all odds, deserves better than for me to simply die. For me to let the chain end.

I will feel bad. Billions of years, wasted, because of me.

mysterious gray box mysterious blue box mysterious red box mysterious green box mysterious gold box

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