There was this one opportunity, for something not quite definable, where I totally screwed up. I blew it, and tonight I was reminded that I'd blown it.

I already knew that I'd blown it. So, it wasn't a big shock or anything, being reminded. Maybe a little mean, but still honest, and therefore acceptable.

Like I keep saying, timing is everything.

I'm not, and I never have been, one of those everything happens for a reason people. Those people are, by and large, idiots. But sometimes I can almost concede their point. Sometimes, it's very tempting for me to blame fate or God or whatever for those things which have happened or not happened in my life.

It's tempting, but I don't do it. I won't do it. Everything is my fault, everything has always been my fault, and everything will always be my fault.

People misinterpret me all the time. This is bizarre to me, because I keep no secrets, if only I'm asked the right questions.

The people who really understand, I love every one of them. Even as I hurt them, I love them. Because they know why I do the things that I do, say the things that I say, want the things that I want.

Sometimes, people seem surprised by the things that I do and say. This is bizarre to me, because I keep no secrets, if only I'm asked the right questions.

It's really quite simple, to define me and the things that are important to me. Explaining those things, now that's a much more difficult task.

I bet RockGirl could do it. Probably better than I could do it myself. She's all eloquent and shit.

I just realized that she didn't even tell me the date of the wedding. I don't know if they've even set a date. Probably my birthday or something fucked-up like that.

It probably shouldn't matter. But dates are important to me, for some reason.

I want to know the date, so I can plan to be sad, and to have a legitimate reason for my sadness.

That will be pretty rare, I think.

I get to be sane, on that day.

Whenever it is.

Doing is, of course, much harder than saying. Or writing, in this case. That's my disclaimer - I have no realistic expectations of ever actually doing this. Perhaps someone will read this, someone with more strength than I possess. Perhaps this will do someone good.

Anyway, I think I might know the secret. This entry is part one. Part two is still sloshing around in my head like milk in a churn. Eventually it will solidify and I'll take my knife and smear it across the internet.

That's a good metaphor. I like it.

Anyway, the secret of the secret, it goes back to that first paragraph. The part about expectations.

Expectations are bullshit. You should never have them. Instead, let yourself be astonished by everything that ever happens. Especially the good things.

And hopes? They're even worse than expectations, for they bring with them an emotional bond to your heart and the emotions therein. And, when hopes are dashed, as they are so wont to be, guess what happens to your emotions.

Wishes? Wishes are acceptable, I think. As long as that's all they are. But it's so easy, so fucking easy, for a wish to turn into a hope. I don't know how to stop that transformation, that evolution. I wish I knew.

Every fucking day, I wish I knew.

Not expect. Definitely not fucking hope.

I just wish.

It happened twice tonight. While I was watching my tivoed recording of American Idol and drinking a yummy Schlenkerla Urbock (320) and mentally kicking myself for, once again, letting my nap run on for far too long.

I don't even think I dreamed tonight. That's strange, because usually there's something about sleeping on my back, on my couch, that gets the old eyeballs moving rapidly. But not tonight, I don't think.

So, I was sitting there on my loveseat watching mostly bad singers, hoping for a good singer, or at least a hot girl to look at. During the boring parts of the show, I'd think about things. Do some navel-gazing, basically. And twice I was completely overwhelmed. I was completely overwhelmed and nearly incapacitated. The first time it was sadness that washed over me, the second time it was joy. Each time, it was perfect. Just incredible unblemished emotion. The first time a single sob left my lips. The second time, it was a laugh.

Tuesday, I talked to ArtGirl about experiencing every moment. Good, bad, or neutral, all moments of life should be lived and experienced in their entirety. Because they're not going to happen again. Ever. So, may as well pay attention to them. They might be important. They probably are important.

Tonight I had two perfect moments. One was good, the other was bad. I wouldn't trade either of them for anything. Perfect moments are our most precious gifts to ourselves.

Anyway, this all got me interested, so I did a search on my blog for the phrase perfect moment. I found one promise, one declaration, and one memory. I'd have thought there'd have been more. It certainly seems like the kind of thing I'd write about more often.

I think that the whole purpose of this entry was to put that link in. I think that I just wanted to prove that I used to be able to write decent drivel, even if I can't seem to do it anymore.

I feel all deep and contemplative tonight. Like I could really grab hold of something and make it important through thinking about it and writing about it. I'm not really sure what that something might be, but I'll be up for a while longer, so maybe it'll come to me.

---

I had the strangest dream earlier. It was all bits and flashes. I was married to some famous chick, and the dream was a bunch of snapshots of our life together. But it wasn't sequential at all. We'd be old and retired on a beach, and then we'd be young and just meeting for the first time. It was kinda like a documentary or something, but really weird. Like this one time I was in bed, and I opened my eyes to see this thing coming toward me. You know those inflatable boxing dudes that you punch and they keep standing back up? It was one of those things. It was coming towards me from the far end of the room, holding a shotgun. But then my wife came in and popped it with a knitting needle. That was nice of her.

In another, much later scene, we were at some fancy party, and my wife was crying because she was supposed to sing (I think that's why she was famous, for her singing) but some whore had just sang the exact song she was going to sing. So my wife was very upset and crying. She was so upset, in fact, that she dove into this trash barrel to vomit and hide. I ended up rolling her back to our suite (I think we were at The Rio in Las Vegas) and the police were there asking questions about the popped boxing dude.

---

ArtGirl and I are supposed to go see some band Saturday. I never heard of the band before - it's called Rufus Huff - but MusicalYuppieDude highly recommends them. I'm kind of excited about it. I haven't been to see a band for a song time. Plus, I like ArtGirl. It should be fun.

---

Tonight there were all kinds of storms around here. The tornado siren went off for about two hours straight. All I got was some hard rain, though. Enough to get some water in my basement. I hate it when that happens.

---

My sleep schedule is seriously hosed.

What was I thinking?
To succumb to cute and nice?
That is not like me.

Sunday night, the pizzeria side of the NABC complex was open for some sporting event. Usually, they're closed on Sundays, so it was a special occasion, and I usually go. Just because it's such a rarity. I really couldn't care less about the sporting event.

Anyway, while I was on the way there, OddlyFamiliarGirl called. I'd texted her Friday night because I had a question about astrology. She's into that stuff, she's just not into returning text messages in a timely manner.

While I was talking, and driving, I happened to glance down at my odometer. I quickly said goodbye to OddlyFamiliarGirl and pulled off the road at the earliest opportunity.

The earliest opportunity, it turned out, wasn't quite early enough.

That there, even though it's really hard to see, is the odometer on my truck showing 100001 miles. I think it would have been cool to get a picture of it at exactly 100000 miles, but it wasn't meant to be.

Here's a close-up. Still hard to see, though.

Once at Sportstime The NABC Pizzeria, I had myself a couple pints of their Old Lightning Rod (490). The place was really dead. I guess nobody cared about the sporting event. Or maybe they were all at some cool party to which I wasn't invited.

So they closed the place down at 7:30 or so. I went over to Tucker's and had some cheesesticks and a glass of Guinness (1783). I'd been thinking about having a steak, but I changed my mind for some reason.

And that was Sunday. Pretty exciting, huh?

Monday wasn't anything special except that while I was at Rich O's The NABC Public House, waiting for my pizza and having a yummy NABC Old Lightning Rod (510), OddlyFamiliarGirl and NotHideousGirl came in for a bit. It had been a million jillion gazillion years since I'd seen OddlyFamiliarGirl. It had only been a couple of days since I'd last seen NotHideousGirl, but it always seems longer when it's her. I just thought I'd better mention seeing them, lest I get into trouble for some reason.

Then tonight it was really warm, so I sat out on my swing and enjoyed a Schlenkerla Urbock (286) and smiled a lot. I thought about all of the times I'd sat out there and thought about sad things, and about how much happier I am now. It really doesn't take much to make me happy. Even the tiniest things can do it, especially when the tiniest things are so incredibly huge to me.

Somehow, I managed to get magically drunk last night. I have a theory about this, and I'll write about it in a bit, but first I should have a disclaimer.

The lines between reality and fantasy and imagination are blurred almost beyond distinction, at least as far as last night goes. So you should probably treat this entry as fiction, just to be safe.

The place was almost empty. This contrasted in a stunningly beautiful way with the madness that Friday night had been. Dina was on the sofa, all by her lonesome like a weirdo or something. I sat on the throne and ordered an NABC Flat Tyre (343). Dina and I bullshitted with each other for an hour or so, then she left to go meet the chick, and I found myself sitting all by my lonesome like a weirdo or something.

A couple of people drifted in and out of the area. They'd come in to smoke, and I could tell that they were all wondering who the weirdo sitting by himself was.

Eventually, the regular Saturday night crowd started to form. This one cute blonde accused me of being 23. That's actually starting to get a little tiresome.

Oh yeah, when I was bored because I was in the living room area all by myself, I texted AlliGirl and WeirdGirl and VigilanteGirl. VigilanteGirl texted back asking who I was. I said never mind, and she called me. I reminded her that she'd given me her number. She said that she would call me for directions to Rich O's, but I never believed that for even a second.

TremensGirl came in and sat on the sofa where Dina had been. I think this was about when I ordered another Flat Tyre (383). I started getting emails from LaptopGirl, hinting that she might come in.

This one chick, who kept coming in to smoke, took one look at TremensGirl and I talking and announced, "You two should date."

So that was weird, how quickly she picked up on our vibe. I said that TremensGirl and I have massive crushes on each other but that things are complicated, and I left it at that.

Then, I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (2828), which was yummy.

After a million more years and a few more emails, LaptopGirl finally showed up. At that point I pretty much started ignoring everyone else in the room, because LaptopGirl and I somehow found ourselves having an actual relevant conversation. People kept trying to interrupt us and/or worm their way in, but for the most part I managed to keep it just between the two of us. It was very nice.

At one point, I looked up, and NotHideousGirl had managed to sneak in. Of course I talked to her as well, but I kept returning to my conversation with LaptopGirl.

I think this was about the point where I got magically drunk. Please note that I'd had three weak beers, over the course of about four hours.

Some dude bought a round of drinks for everyone. I didn't want a whole beer for myself, so I just ended up drinking most of LaptopGirl's free Guinness (1761).

It seemed like everyone left at about the same time, but I stuck around and had a couple Diet Cokes. And I wished that LaptopGirl and I would have shared that pizza we'd discussed, because the room was really spinning. Food would have been nice, but the kitchen was closed.

I ended up taking a cab home from Rich O's. That almost never happens, because it's almost never necessary.

I said, back at the beginning of this novel, that I had a theory about how I'd managed to get so drunk on so little alcohol. Well, my theory is that the alcohol had very little to do with it. I got to have an actual relevant conversation with someone very important to me. This was something that I'd waited years to do. My theory is that I got drunk on that surreal series of moments.

So there.

No entiendo.

Algo pasó, sin embargo.

Tal vez habría sido bueno.