What a disappointment.

They weren't lingerie photos after all. Just bikinis.

Come to think of it, I might have been told that, when they first started flooding in. I just forgot when I saw all the Victoria's Secret URLs.

I'm supposed to help HatGirl pick something for a cruise, I guess.

I like the one in the lower right.

So, not the best day for me, but I'll get over it I suppose.

Had the world's longest and most pointless meeting this morning. The eventual outcome of the meeting was, "We don't know anything, let's schedule another meeting and maybe we'll know something by then."

During the meeting, about a million fire trucks showed up and nearly surrounded our building. This struck me as strange, mainly because none of us were on fire at the time. As it turned out, there was an alarm at a nearby building. Luckily it turned out to be a false alarm.

The rest of the work day was okay, I guess. I've got so much crap to do. I think I'm going to have to burn a day of vacation tomorrow so I'll have time to do some of the crap. I think this is how workaholics are born.

Speaking of being retarded, I left a sleeping bag out on my deck, and now it's soaking wet because it stormed a little while ago.

Also, my stupid cats are acting like they're starving to death, but their food bowls are full. Because I fed them this morning, disrupting their usual schedule. I doubt that they've even bothered to look to see if they have any food.

Also, I sometimes I really miss working for myself. Stupid internet bubble bursting...

Grrrr.

I think that's it for now. I've got lingerie pictures in my email that I'm supposed to look at.

Right now, I'm in one of my moods again.

Sometimes I think these of these moods of mine as periods of unusual clarity. Other times I think they're just crazy periods - where I outdo even myself.

Whatever.

Right now, I don't think this is a bad thing, this one thing that I can't write, or say, or show, or pantomime.

I think it's good, maybe even great.

It's a simple matter of acceptance, that's all.

No extrapolations. No predictions. None of that crap. Just acceptance.

It, quite simply, is.

Just fucking deal with it.

Understanding is irrelevant.

I had a really nice day, by the way. People were really nice to me today.

So Rich O's is going to be closed next weekend. All weekend. I could say something about what I think of that, but I kinda want to go in there again someday, so I'll hold my tongue.

---

This Friday I'm going to this dealie at our local Caesar's casino. I'm looking forward to it except for the tiny little thing that I'm on-call this week, and there's never been much cellphone reception at Caesar's. So there's a chance that all hell could break loose at work and I won't know anything about it until I return to civilization.

---

I really want to go somewhere next weekend. And now that Rich O's is going to be closed I really really want to go somewhere. But, who am I kidding? I'm not leaving the area, not even for a weekend.

---

I recently expanded my cable TV lineup. So now, if I wanted to, I could become a baseball fan again. The only restriction would be that I'd have to be a Reds fan. And I'm not sure that they're worthy of the time and effort I'd have to put in to really follow and root for them.

When I was in Seattle, being a Mariner's fan was both fun and validating, most of the time. But still, it's hard to be a baseball fan if you really want to follow the team. There are so many games. I dunno if I'm up for that kind of commitment.

---

My answer was no, of course. What a stupid question.

---

It's AlliDay today!

Yay!

---

Then Sunday morning I have some work stuff to do. It will probably be fun, unless it doesn't go smoothly. Then it will suck, but that's what I get paid for, I suppose.

---

I think that's it.

---

I know I'm forgetting something.

This is a unique situation for me. There's no doubt about that.

Never before and, I hope with all my heart, never again will I find myself struggling like this again.

Searching frantically for purchase on such a sheer rockface. Reaching out wildly at each passing outcropping and crevice as I fall, hoping against hope that I can slow my descent. Survive to climb again.

But it's exhilarating, in its own special way. The stark contrast. The points of light shining so brightly against that ebony background.

I could mix metaphors all day and all night, I think.

Anyway, I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out what happened.

I mean, I know pretty much when it happened. I just don't know what it was. What I did wrong, said wrong, thought wrong, felt wrong.

Clearly, I did something wrong. Clearly, it's all my fault.

What was once gray has separated like oil and water, has become bright tiny sparks in the dark. Stars, beautiful but oh so distant. Useless, but necessary. Oh so necessary.

I seem to be thinking about stars a lot lately.

Yes
Of course I will. Damn, it's been so long, I'm already trembling with the anticipation of getting to see you. And, not only seeing you, but seeing you happy. Because that's what's important - that you're happy. Of course I'll come.

And I will gladly shake the hand of the man who's done what I couldn't do.

No
What a stupid question. How could you even suspect that I'd agree to that? Have you ever even met me? What's the climate like on your planet, anyway?

I'll tell you what - I'll agree to see you and your dipshit boyfriend as soon as you agree that I can bring along the person you hate more than anyone.

Yeah, I didn't fucking think so.

Have a nice life, and I mean that seriously. But I'll be over here, trying to live my own life.

Maybe
I need to think about it for a couple of days. It's tempting, but it's more than a little scary. I really do want to see you, but I wonder if I also need to see you.

If the latter, then it's just too risky for me. I've got enough needs in my life right now.

It's been a long time, but has it been long enough? I need to think about this some more. I'll let you know.

Tonight, after my eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and after my brain had finally learned to stop looking across the street at my neighbor's dick light, I saw some stars.

Actual stars. Not nearly as many as I saw when I was a kid. My aging eyes and all this stupid light pollution have taken care of that. And not even a zillionth as many as what I saw on that one night in Nevada, but still, a lot of stars.

They were pretty.

I also was lucky enough to see not one, not two, but five shooting stars.

I made five wishes.

More precisely, I made the same wish five times.

I am not a bad person. I am not a selfish person.

I wished for eternal happiness for someone else.

Also, as an added bonus, here's the only comic I can think of which featured shooting stars. I like this one, even though MixedSignalGirl was kinda mean.

---

Recently I've been asked what I mean when I say that I'm in a weird mood. I've found that, with questions like that, a description is much easier to come by than a definition:

Sometimes, I dare to envision a day. A perfect day. A day of laughter and love and joy and incredible happiness. I dare to envision such a day, but I see it as the fantasy that it is, and I do not get sucked into it.

Sometimes, I remember the truth, the reality of life. My life. And sometimes I can stand the pain that reality forces into my brain, and sometimes I do not want to cry out at the unfairness of it all.

It's those incongruities that makes them weird, these moods in which I sometimes find myself.

I often have dreams about my house having a secret room. Sometimes it's just that; a heretofore forgotten room, usually full of junk and other treasures. Sometimes there'll be an entire new apartment hidden behind a closed door, but usually it's just a room.

Part of the reason for these dreams, besides the obvious symbolism, is I think because there are parts of my house into which I almost never venture. Storage areas and a full-blow storage room. Another reason, I think, is this one house I looked at while I was in the market. I ended up in this house, of course, but that house certainly made an impression on me with all its levels and tiny rooms off the basement. I'd have probably bought it, if only there'd have been enough room for a pool table.

Anyway, tonight I dreamed of yet another secret room in my house. Except this was a room the likes of which I've never dreamed before.

I opened the door set into a wall in my basement, and beyond the door was a giant hillside, sloping down into a green valley. A cute little dirt path led from the door at the top of the hill down into the valley where a small village nestled.

"Oh boy!" I thought. "Look at all this cool stuff to explore, right here in my own house!"

I entered the new room, and started walking down the path. I noticed a fence to my right, and a black bull on the other side of the fence. That bull matched my pace as I walked down the hill into the valley. Not really menacing, but not friendly either.

The village was deserted. All the doors were locked. It was very frustrating, because I knew I'd have to call the people I'd bought the house from and see if they had any old keys lying around. And that would take time.

I started back up the hill, feeling depressed because my explorations would have to wait.

There was a movie playing on a billboard. Funny how I'd missed it before. The movie's narrator was talking about how, in the olden days, rodeos had used black rhinos instead of bulls. And it was only because rhinos became endangered that the familiar rodeo bull had risen to such popularity.

I had to admit, a rodeo with black rhinos would be pretty fucking cool.

Also, near the fence in a place where I really should have noticed it before, was a little tourist stand. Inside the stand were all kinds of things related to various things about bulls. The only one I really remember was a shirt. There was a whole stack of them, actually. Orange football jerseys with the number 34 in big white letters. Little cards stapled to each shirt asked the question, "Will a bull always charge the color orange?"

And then there was some small type that I didn't have time to read. Because as soon as I'd picked up the shirt and the card, that damn bull broke through its fence. It stood there on the dirt path, glaring and snorting at me.

I ran.

I ran like a motherfucker to the top of the hill, and I ripped the door open, and I slammed it shut. I just barely made it back to safety. I could feel the bull pressing against the door. Trying to get into my house. Trying to get to me. I pressed all of my weight against the door, knowing that it was only a matter of time.

Today I've been wondering about something.

I know, you don't have to remind me. Wondering has always proven to be a really stupid thing for me to do. But, as with most relevant things in my life these days, I just can't help it. I'd certainly stop wondering, if I could.

But I can't.

So there.

Today, I'm wondering if that was our first fight. I kinda hope that it was. Because, you know, it really wasn't that bad. And it would be nice to know that our first fight was out of the way.

But I'm also wondering about the make-up sex.

Does it still count as a fight, even if there's no make-up sex?

In the interest of completeness, and perhaps fairness, I'll now tackle the issue of what a guy means when he uses the word.

I think it's much more straightforward. There's a definition that's never used.

See, a guy will never, ever, ever, use the word friend to describe a girl unless either (a) He is not sleeping with her and, for some reason, wants to make that point perfectly clear, or (b) He's not interested in her physically and wants to make that point perfectly clear.

For example, I often refer to HatGirl as my friend. I use that word intentionally, because HatGirl is extremely engaged. I don't want anyone to ever jump to the wrong conclusion about me and HatGirl. So, reason "a" above definitely applies.

In another case, referring to another girl, I might use the word friend to stress the point that I'm not even interested in her in that way. This is a term I might use when referring to, say, Roseanne Barr* or someone of similar appearance.

The difference between these two meanings is a subtle one. It's usually taken from context. If, for example, you see me standing next to HatGirl or LaptopGirl or any other girl that's not a big fat hog, and I refer to her as my friend, well then it's fairly obvious that reason "a" above applies. The use of the word friend in this case isn't meant to either confirm or deny the presence of physical attraction - it's only meant to make it clear that there's nothing currently going on. Usually to spare the girl's reputation.

So, I'm really rambling with these two entries. I really did have a point to make. Or a point to illustrate.

But now I've got to work some more. Don't hold your breath. I may decide that this is too stupid, even for this venue.

* - I'm sure that Roseanne is a wonderful person. I only used her as an example. No offense intended.