That show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition is in Louisville makeovering a home.

Yeah, I know that's not a real word.

It's been all over the radio, how they're redoing a house for some semi-famous blind guy. Plus I guess they're all staying at this fancy hotel across the street from where I work. At least there's been a very large bus parked there all week, and everyone is saying it's the people from the show.

I used to watch that show. I used to like it. I mean, the things that they do to transform those houses are truly amazing. But I haven't watched it in a couple of years. It just got to be too much, with all the heartwarming and the tears and the uplifting moments.

It used to be that they'd swoop in and fix up a house for any of a number of reasons. Maybe because you were cool, or you needed more space, or maybe just because you applied for the thing. And, of course, there were the charity cases. People in real trouble, who needed real help.

But things changed. I guess the heartwarming stories rapidly became the most popular ones. And the more desperate the lives of the people being helped, the better the ratings were. So it kinda snowballed.

It used to be, back when I first started watching that show, it used to be that I could almost imagine them showing up at my house someday. I liked the semi-randomness. For me, that was a really big part of the show's appeal.

Now, though, they don't do that semi-random stuff anymore. If they show up at your house now, then you know that your life truly sucks big ones.

Like, we had a storm here in August, and one of my Tivos broke. I seriously doubt that the people from the show are going to give my house a makeover because of my broken Tivo. But, back when the show first came on, it was fun to fantasize about it. Now, it would be a horrible fantasy. Because first I'd have to imagine that half my family was dead. And the other half had cancer. And the other half was blind or otherwise disabled. And that my cats all hated me. And that, despite all the problems, I still spent all of my spare time and all of my spare money helping those even less fortunate than I was.

It used to be fun to fantasize about that show redoing my house. But now, I wouldn't wish that fate on my worst enemy. Nobody deserves to have a life that's so crappy as to lure that show in.

I got to Rich O's early, about 7:20 or so. I hadn't really been planning to go at all. I was just going to sleep and wake up whenever I woke up. But then HatGirl texted me that she was at Rich O's. So I went to Rich O's, even though I was very tired, because, duh, HatGirl!

Also, Thursday I went there after work and saw this bit of loveliness on the board.

I asked Roger when he thought it might be available, and he guessed that it would be around the first of December.

So, imagine my surprise and glee when I went in on November 9th and saw this.

Cone Smoker was on tap! Yay!

I went into Rich O's proper and sat on the sofa. I said hello to everyone around me. MusicalYuppieDude, some dude without a nickname, LuckyFucker, HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

Then, after about 10 minutes, I realized that none of the bartenders were going to ask me what I wanted, so I went up to the bar and ordered my first Cone Smoker in 18 months or so (1936). It was a little darker than I remembered. More malty, and not as bitter. Quite yummy, though - that hadn't changed.

I ended up having a second one (1956) then most of a third one (1974) before my stupidity irritated me to the point where I became unfit for human company. At that point, I came home.

I don't feel like writing anything.

You ever have one of those nights when you feel like you just can't control yourself?

Well, I have them every so often. Usually I manage to restrain myself a little bit, enough that I don't fear falling asleep because the dread of waking up is too much to bear.

Usually, I manage to do that, but not tonight.

Tonight was a fucked-up night.

I doubt that any of the people I talked to or emailed or texted tonight, I doubt that any of them will assign any particular importance to this night. But I certainly will.

I simply could not shut up.

I had a choice. I could explode, or I could be an idiot.

I chose what I perceived to be the lesser of those two evils.

Because exploding would be pretty gross, I think.

I just had a very funny thought. Or I guess it was more of a daydream than a thought. In it, I imagined being misunderstood. But that wasn't the funny part. Nope, the funny part was the exact nature of the misunderstanding.

My reticence was thought to be caused by apathy.

Bwaaaahaaaaahaaaaa!!!

Pretty much the funniest thought I've had in a long time.

Or maybe it was the saddest. It's so hard to tell sometimes.

---

Also, I'm writing a song of sorts. I can't play it for shit, but I'm thinking that if I keep trying for a million years, then maybe I'll get it right once or twice. This is the same theory I'm testing for my love life.

I neither read nor write music. I'll have to describe my song to MusicalYuppieDude, so he can tell me how it would look in musical notation Then I'll post that notation. After I add some variety.

For now, according to this site, it just goes like this

Cmajor, Cmajor-Cmajor, Cmajor, Cmajor, Cmaj7, Cmaj7, Cmaj7, Cmaj7,
Am, Am-Am, Am, Am, Asus2, Asus2, Asus2, Asus2...

The nice thing about these four chords is that I can almost switch between them quickly without dislocating some vital joint or pulling some vital muscle.

---

I never said this would be interesting.

I think I want to buy a sailboat. Nothing ostentatious. Just something big enough, say, for me to sail around the world if I felt like it. I'm pretty sure that I'd feel like doing exactly that.

I think that I just get sick of being by myself in crowded rooms. It happens all the time. Often, the more dense the crowd, the more alone I am. I'm a third wheel, or a fifth wheel, or a nine hundred forty-third wheel. It always seems to be an odd number, and I always seem to be the odd one out.

So I want to buy a sailboat, so I can sail around the world all by myself. So there are no more crowds pushing me aside like a drop of oil in a lake.

I think that, if I were physically alone, then the mental isolation wouldn't seem so bad. At least, then, I'd have an excuse.

Today was Wednesday, otherwise known as AlliDay. One of the highlights of my week, when I can sneak away from work and go have lunch at The Pub and talk to BikerGirl for a bit. Work has been crazy lately, but today I did manage to spare an hour. I had a nice Newcastle (8109) for lunch, and talked to BikerGirl for a bit.

At the end of the day I got my hairs cut, then I stopped at Rich O's for a quick Schlenkerla Marzen (2056). I don't think that my spiffy new good mood quite fits in with going to Rich O's after work anymore. I haven't felt happy there after work for a long time.

Anyway, I had a dream tonight. I think I can remember enough about it to describe it. I'll try.

I was at Rich O's. But it wasn't the real Rich O's. It was the same one from this dream. Instead of there being a single living room area, with couches and stuff, there were dozens of them scattered about. I was sitting in one such area when she came in.

Some hot blonde girl. I never saw her before in my life, but she seemed to know me. She certainly acted like she did. Within about 10 seconds after her arrival, we were making out like teenagers. So, pretty much exactly like my waking life. Not.

The blonde girl and I went outside for some reason. I asked her what her name was. "Zwanka," she said.

So that was weird.

When we came back inside, there was a huge crowd waiting to hear some band play, and Zwanka and I got separated. I was looking around for her and I saw a baby sitting on the floor all by itself.

I somehow knew that this was LaptopGirl's baby. But I hadn't seen her anywhere around, and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the baby. I was afraid that somebody might step on it or abduct it or something. So I scooped it up and started walking around looking for LaptopGirl.

The baby and I talked as we walked around. He was about a year old, but quite a good little talker. He helped me look for his mother, but it seemed that just about every girl in the place had dark hair and glasses, so we kept going on little wild goose chases. It was fun though. I remembered thinking that I hadn't held a baby in a very long time.

Then I saw that Dan was bartending, so I asked him to put the baby up on this shelf behind the bar. That way, if LaptopGirl came in, she'd be sure to see her baby up there. I asked the baby if he wanted to go play with Uncle Dan for a while, and he agreed. So Dan put the baby up on the shelf, and I went looking for Zwanka some more.

I never did find Zwanka, but the next time I glanced at the bar, the baby was gone, and Dan gave me a thumbs-up.

But, Zwanka?

Where did that come from?

Okay, so I was in the restroom at work when it happened. By it, I of course mean that my building burst into flames.

Well, maybe not really. But I couldn't really know that, could I? I was in the restroom, busily doing restroom stuff. There were storms in the area, and there was a very loud crack, and then the fire alarm went off.

I have some questions. If you're taking a shit, and you fear that your building has just burst into flames, what actions should you take before you run screaming from the restroom?

Should you wipe? Pull your pants back up?

Should you wash your hands?

These questions, they haunt me now.

Anyway, it turns out that lightning had struck our building in such as way as to set off the fire alarm, but we didn't find that out for a while. Because it was raining pretty hard, we only mostly evacuated. We went to the bottom floor, near the door but not quite outside the door.

Then all the firemen (I actually do think it was all of them) came and started checking everything out. I texted NormalGirl that I might be late for our date, because my building might be on fire.

Then one of the firemen told us about how our building wasn't on fire, so we went back to work, and I texted NormalGirl back that I'd be on time after all.

---

Later, as I was leaving work, I got a message from NormalGirl that she was on the Sportstime side. So, that's where I went. It's weird on that side.

I'd been hoping that NormalGirl wouldn't wear anything cute, so that I might be able to get to know her better without all the distractions, but alas, she was wearing a cute hoodie and had cute sunglasses on top of her head. But I persevered. We had a nice time, I think. I poured on all of the charm I could muster, and I think we were each genuinely interested in what the other had to say.

It was fun.

Let's see, to start off the evening, I had a Delirium Tremens (1053). NormalGirl was having an Upland Wheat. We shared a pizza and some conversation. For the next beer, we split a bottle of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2279) on my recommendation. She seemed to like it okay.

As the conversation continued, I had a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (2022). I had NormalGirl try a small sample of that. She didn't gag, so that was cool.

We have agreed that, since I chose the time and the venue for this date, she will be in charge of the next one. I hope that the next one happens. I like what I've seen and heard so far.

---

After NormalGirl left, I went over to Rich O's and talked to MusicalYuppieDude while I had another Marzen (2039).

Despite all outward evidence to the contrary, my fantastic mood continues. I mean, I've become even more aloof around my friends, sometimes I don't bother to go out at all. My tolerance for idiotic behavior has never been lower. I tend to blow off people who try to talk to me.

It's not that I don't care. And it's not even that these people are not relevant. Even though they're not, for the most part.

It's just that I know, for an absolute fact, that none of them are going to make me feel any better than I already feel. It's simply not possible. That's not to say that they will make me feel worse - it could be a status quo type of thing.

But, why take that chance? It just doesn't seem worth it. There's no reward with that risk, because I already have everything I could ever need. Wants are, of course, a different matter entirely. And my wants still vary. I kind of hope that they'll continue to vary, because I can imagine that, by doing so, they could inject some much needed drama into my life. I'd really hate to get bored with all this happiness, though the irony of it would definitely elicit a chuckle or two or a million.

Almost nobody knows me anymore. The vast majority of the people, who think they know me, they only know me as I was for the past couple of years. They've never seen me like this.

I'm no longer a sad guy who might get into a good mood every now and then, shocking friends and misleading strangers.

I'm an actual happy person, and feeling bad or sad or mad - even though those feelings will certainly continue to make appearances, those feelings are no longer the norm for me.

It used to be that even the tiniest things would send me plummeting back into the abyss. Not now. Now, I'm possessed of my own intrinsic buoyancy.

The weight of a lost friendship?

Nothing.

The burden of mounting work pressures?

Inconsequential.

The near-constant load of financial obligations?

This too shall pass.

I am happy, dammit.

And, also, a little surprised that the shock of this transformation didn't kill me.

A little while ago I got an email from RockGirl. Earlier today, we'd been discussing various meal choices, in particular my own preference for eating a lot of a single thing instead of a small amount of several things.

RockGirl asked me what I'd serve if a hot girl (she specified a certain one, but it's not important for this exercise) came over to my house for lunch.

It took me about a half a second to come up with an answer.

Homemade chocolate pudding. Then I'd say that I had no clean bowls or plates or spoons, and so we'd have to just lick it off each other's bodies.

I'd probably get away with it, too. Because in this fantasy universe of yours, wherein a hot girl comes to my house for lunch, anything at all is possible.

Maybe I'll sue myself later. I'd probably settle out of court, though. I wouldn't want to give myself too much hassle.

I'm a little bit torn right now. There are several things that I'd like to write about. But it's late, and I'm tired. So I have to be very brief.

---

I got to see HatGirl - Yay! - tonight, for the first time in a million zillion gazillion years. It was very nice to see her.

---

There was about a 40/60 ratio of girls to guys at Rich O's tonight. That would be strange enough, but what made it even more strange was that the entire 40% consisted of hot girls. There wasn't a bowser in the bunch.

---

I had four bottles of Schlenkerla Marzen (2006) tonight. All were yummy.

---

There were a lot of weirdoes tonight. Many more than usual. The presence of all the hot girls somehow turned all of the guys into weirdoes. Wouldn't be the first time, but I've rarely seen such outbreaks at Rich O's.

---

Toward the very end of the night, I began to feel some of my recent resolve deteriorate. Luckily, they declared last call before I did or said anything stupid.

---

It was a nice night. I was in a good mood even before I got to see HatGirl, and after that I was in a fantastic mood. A couple of people and events tried to spoil it, but tonight my mood was invincible. I don't expect this invincibility to last very long. The good things never last.

---

Okay, that's it. I'm tired.