Thursday, October 11, 2007
posted by dave at 3:30 AM in category ramblings

I suppose that, truth be told, I'm not really doing okay. Oh, certainly better than I expected at first, but all in all still not very well. I kinda feel like a little kid in the back of a car, on the way to some exciting destination.

"Are we there yet?" I'll ask myself a million times a day.

"Not quite," I'll answer myself. "Just a little while longer."

And every time the question gets asked, there's a little more urgency than there was before. And every time the answer is given, the reassurance is a little less believable than it was before.

As a result of this constant little dialogue, I seem to have lost the ability to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. So my nights are marked by a series of naps, and my days are marked by an unending series of yawns.

I find myself with zero patience. And it's only through some combination of altruism and fear that I've managed to at least feign patience for as long as I have. Which isn't very long. It just seems that way.

---

Let me see if I can get this right. This is a joke that TremensGirl told me this evening.

So this nun went to live in a convent. Upon her arrival, the priest told her that it was a silent convent, and that if she lived there, she wouldn't be allowed to speak. She agreed to this condition, and moved in.

For five years, she was completely silent, and the priest sent for her.

"My child," he said, "You have been living here for five years, and you have done very well. As a reward, you may now speak two words."

The nun thought about this for a few minutes, then finally said, "Room cold."

"Oh dear," the priest replied. "I'm so sorry. We'll get that taken care of right away."

And so they fixed the heat in the nun's room. And she was silent again.

Another five years passed, and the priest sent for her once again.

"My child," he said, "You have now lived here for ten years. Congratulations. As your reward, you may now speak two words."

The nun thought about what to say for several minutes. With a raspy voice, she said, "Bed hard."

"Oh dear," the priest replied. "We'll get you a better bed right away."

And so they replaced the nun's bed , and it was very soft, and she fell silent again.

Another five years passed and, once again, the nun was summoned to the priest.

"My child," he said, "You have lived here for fifteen years. This is quite an accomplishment. As your reward, you may now speak two words."

The nun didn't hesitate at all. "I'm leaving," She said.

The priest thought, for a few seconds, about what the nun had said. Then he responded.

"That would probably be best," he said. "After all, all you've done is bitch since the day you got here."

Tuesday, October 9, 2007
posted by dave at 7:36 PM in category quiz

No cheating! No looking at answers already left, and no poking around through this blog for answers. Just answer the questions. After you've submitted your comment, you can poke around all you want.

---

Who knows me best? The race is on......this is funny. YOU fill in the blanks about ME ... even if you don't have any idea....and leave a comment with your answers.

PLAY WITH IT .. ITS GONNA BE AWESOME


My name:

My age:

How old do I act:

Summarize me in three words:

Where did we meet:

Take a stab at my middle name:

How long have you known me:

When is the last time we saw each other:

Do I drink:

Do I smoke:

Am I happy:

Am I a good person:

Do I get along better with guys or girls:

What was your first impression of upon meeting me/seeing me:

What's one of my favorite things to do:

Do we have any inside jokes, that no one would understand:

Am I funny:

How do you make me smile:

What's my favorite type of music:

Have you ever seen me cry:

Can I sing:

What is the best feature about me:

Am I shy or outgoing:

Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:

Do I have any special talents:

Would you call me preppy, average, sporty, punk, hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby,
or something else (what):

Have you ever hugged me:

Kissed me:

Slapped me:

Whats my favorite food:

Do you know anyone that has a crush on me:

Have you ever had a crush on me:

Am I dating anyone:

If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:

What's your favorite memory of me:

What is my worst habit:

Have you ever had a dream about me:

If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what is the one thing I would bring:

Are we friends:

Do I believe in God:

Who is my best friend:

Where do I work, if I work:

Whats my favorite drink:

Describe my average weekend:

What about my week:

Monday, October 8, 2007
posted by dave at 10:47 PM in category pictures

Here's the view from my deck. If you would indulge me for a minute, please. Ignore the rotting woodpile and the bird feeder, and just look at the tree. See anything? About ten feet up, on the left side?

Tree from deck

Maybe, maybe not. I certainly notice something, whenever I'm out on my deck. Here's a closer look:

Zoomed a little

How about now? See that damn face, turned to the left? I'll tell you, once you notice it, as I did a couple of weeks ago, it's impossible to look at that tree without seeing that face.

One more picture, zoomed even more:

Zoomed way in

Now, to me, the face isn't as obvious as it was in the last picture. But it's still there and, at this magnification, I can see just a tiny hint of an eye. An eye looking right back at me.

This tree-face, along with Dilly the Armadillo, is one of my best friends now. I call him Treeface, which is a stupid, albeit descriptive name.

Upon seeing Treeface for the first time, I was of course reminded of all the Jesus and Virgin Mary sightings that keep showing up on the Internet. Pieces of toast, rust stains on sidewalks, stuff like that. I thought, for just a brief minute or two, about announcing that The Face Of Jesus had appeared on a tree in my backyard. I figured that maybe there'd be profit to be had.

But then I remembered, I certainly don't want those people here. Weeping and wailing at all hours of the day and night as they prostrated themselves all over my lawn.

I also thought about that Face on Mars that so conveniently was photoshopped away disappeared soon after it was first noticed. I thought that maybe Marsface had somehow relocated and changed his identity to Treeface. Via some kind of interplanetary Witness Protection Program, perhaps.

But I certainly couldn't disclose that theory to the world. The freaks who would show up then would be even worse than the bible thumpers. If you can imagine that.

posted by dave at 6:51 PM in category daily

At 5:30 or so this evening, I said, "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Things are much better now, but all the stress has wiped me out.

Sunday, October 7, 2007
posted by dave at 10:38 PM in category drink

Since last Wednesday, I've looked forward to several things. Most of those things have come and gone, usually with much less impact and import that I'd envisioned. But one thing has remained in the to-do list I keep in my head.

Last Wednesday, I bought a couple bottles of Schlenkerla Marzen. And they'd been sitting in my fridge until tonight. Waiting for tonight. Waiting for the night when I wouldn't feel like going out, because I'd have to work the next day. For the night when I could sit on my swing and drink yummy beer and contemplate the universe that surrounds me and suffocates me.

Today was a so-so day. I really can't give it a better rating than that. I played Half Life 2 all day, then I went to this country-fried place for my grandmother's birthday dinner. I ended up paying over $3.00 for one french fry, and it was gross. Cold and raw and bland.

After the birthday "dinner" was over, I went to Famous Dave's in Clarksville and had some real dinner. Then I came home, and opened up a Marzen (1509), and sat on my swing and relished it. Then I had another one (1526). Then, I was out of Marzen.

Waaaaaaaaaah!

I think that, the sad thing is, this was probably the highlight of my week. It could have been so much better.

I want a lot of things from this life of mine. Most will prove to be unattainable. But some things, I could have, if only I'd do a better job of planning ahead.

I wish I'd bought more Marzen, when I had the chance. Another bottle would be terrific, right about now.

posted by dave at 2:48 PM in category dreams, ramblings

I keep having dreams about moving away to a different city. Usually it's Las Vegas in my dreams, but sometimes it's not. Last night, for example, I dreamed that I'd taken a job in Seattle, so I moved back there. Then, later this morning, I had a dream that I'd been transferred to someplace in Northern California, so I moved there. Over the last couple of months, I've dreamed a lot about moving to South Dakota.

I'm very interested in dreams. I think they can, at times, display pretty interesting interpretations of what goes on in our heads and in our lives. It seems that I read somewhere that dreams are what we experience as our short-term memories and thoughts are filed away into long-term storage. I suppose that's as good an explanation as any, of the biochemical process involved. Not that I really care about that - I just like the symbolism and the metaphors.

And sometimes there are hot girls in my dreams. And I get to have sex with them.

But I digress.

I don't think that I keep dreaming about moving to a different city because I want to move. Or even because I fear moving. I think it's yet another metaphor. New jobs, new cities, those are just the symbols that my brain chose to use as it processed my desire for a new life. I could have a new life right here, with the same job, with mostly the same friends. A new life which would be entirely self-contained, in my own head. It can consist of nothing more than my own attitudes and interpretations of the world around me. All I have to do is choose to start over, and my new life could begin.

I think that's what I want. To start over. But I'm afraid that would require a leap of faith that I'm not ready to take. Just as dreams can turn into nightmares, so can lives.

---

Saturday afternoon, I took a nap. I dreamed that I'd gone to this guy's house, and he was cooking steaks for us. Problem was, he'd forgot to ask me how I wanted my steak cooked, so it came off the grill too rare for my tastes. So I put it back on the grill to let it finish cooking.

Once the steak had cooked, I took it from the grill and put it on my plate. It looked and smelled delicious. Then I woke up, before I got to take a single bite from the damn thing.

After I woke up, I was starving for a steak. I figured that I'd go to this Tucker's place and have one. I haven't been there for a while.

But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my dream hadn't really been about a steak at all. It had been about my own stubborn quest for perfection, and about my annoying tendency to wait too long for that perfection to arrive.

About how I wait too long, and how it's suddenly, terribly, horribly, too late.

posted by dave at 1:02 AM in category drink

MixedSignalGirl used to give me shit, if I didn't write something every day. She'd tell me about how she couldn't properly start her days until she'd had her coffee and read my blog. She was, along with many other wonderful things, my muse. Though that's not really the correct word. She didn't always inspire my writings. What she did was inspire me to write. The difference is subtle, but it's still a difference.

Anyway, the other day TremensGirl told me pretty much the same thing that MixedSignalGirl used to tell me. That I should write something every day. I tried to protest that my blog is boring now, but then I realized that being boring just might be a good thing.

I mean, if I write a boring entry, as I'm so wont to do lately, and somebody reads it first thing in the morning, well then they have nowhere to go but up. It's the contrast that's important.

Maybe, just maybe, I provide a valuable public service here, with my boring drivel.

Oh yeah, I spent several hours tonight talking with OddlyFamiliarGirl. She said that she was excited because she might be mentioned in my blog. Far be it from me to crush such lofty dreams, so I have indeed mentioned her.

Also, I had a new beer tonight.

Brooklyn Abbey Singel

(draft) Looks like a hazy pale lager. An odd aroma of what I guess is Belgian yeast. Flavor a bit like a saison, but weaker. It looked so much like a lager that I think I imagined lagerish components to the flavor and the finish that weren't really there. Decent, but that's it.
So that was a bit of a waste of time and money.

After that I had a pint and a half of Three Floyds Gumballhead (85) and then a Diet Coke.

It was a boring but pleasant night. Just what I needed after the drama of this past week.

Saturday, October 6, 2007
posted by dave at 1:32 AM in category ramblings

A dude asked me tonight, when he saw me relax for the first time in hours, how I was doing. He was just being polite, I'm sure. It's just something you ask people when you kinda know them and can kinda sense that they're deep in thought.

"Hey Dave, how are you doing?" he asked.

He was just being polite. He certainly didn't ask for, or deserve, the crap I answered him with.

"Things are incredibly fantastic," I said. "And things are unimaginably terrible. There is no middle ground. But at least I'm not bored."

In other words, I told him the truth. And that truth led to even more truth. I couldn't shut the fuck up. It was a fucking endless loop, until OldBob joined us and managed to swing the subject to something besides how I was doing.

Thanks, OldBob.

What was I thinking? Very few people deserve to hear the unwashed truth from me, and even fewer people ask for that truth. And this guy was in neither group. I don't even know his damn name.

I should have said, "I'm fine" and let it go at that. Or maybe, "I'm just ducky." Because I say that a lot too, when I want people to leave me alone. It confuses people, when I say that I'm just ducky. They're not sure what it means. Gives me time to escape, or at least change the subject.

Friday, October 5, 2007
posted by dave at 10:12 AM in category quiz

Does someone love you?
There are some who claim to do so. At least one I believe.

Do you know anyone named Dave?
Besides my lovely self, there's a bartender at The Pub, and a regular at Rich O's. Probably more.

Ever kissed anyone with the name starting with a J?
My first serious girlfriend was named Jackie.

Has anyone ever mistaken you for a family member?
I don't think so.

What colour are the walls of your parent's bedroom?
They were dark paneling.

Do you think that hair extensions look skanky?
I have no opinion either way.

Are you named after a grandparent?
No, after my dad.

Say you were given a drug test right now. Would you pass or fail?
I'd pass. I"m a good citizen.

Are you taller than 5'6"?
Yes.

Do you know anyone in jail/prison?
I'm not sure. I wouldn't be surprised.

Ever see a dead body?
At funerals.

Do you like the colour green?
On grass and trees, yes. On pizza, not so much.

What is your best friend's Dad's name?
Paul.

How old are you?
1344910813 seconds.

Who was the last person to send you a text message?
TremensGirl.

Ever drove into the ghetto to buy drugs?
Nope.

Last restaurant you went to?
The Pub.

What is the weather like today?
Unseasonably warm. I like it.

Last voice mail you received?
RockGirl telling me about travelling through time.

What did you do yesterday?
Worked, slept, watched some TV. Glared at my phone.

What's the first thing you would do with five million dollars?
Pay off my house.

What nationalities are you?
Most of the European ones.

How many hours did you sleep for last night?
Maybe two.

Any upcoming concerts you want to attend?
Nope.

Who's the last person that you felt was stalking you?
My stalkers must be doing a hell of a job, because I haven't noticed any of them.

What jewellery are you wearing?
None.

If all of your friends were going on a road trip, would
you?

It would depend on where and when. And who was going.

How much money do you have?
Enough to last until payday, I hope.

Do you swear at your parents?
I don't think I ever did. In front of them, certainly, but not at them.

Is your phone right beside you?
Always.

Have you cried today?
Nope.

Do you think that someone is thinking about you right now?
As I write this, I doubt this. As people read this, almost certainly.

Do you untie your shoes every time you take them off?
This is a stupid question that keeps showing up in these things. No.

What is the colour of your bedsheets?
Varies. I have gray ones and green ones.

Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yes.

Are you photogenic?
From far enough away.

What's your star sign?
Pisces.

Where do you spend most of your money?
Mortgage..

What was the last thing you did?
Checked the progress of a backup job at work..

Do you have a tattoo?
Nope.

Do you still watch cartoons on Saturday mornings?
Nope.

Is there a secret you've never told any of your friends?
Yes.

Have you ever told someone you loved them but didn't mean it?
No, but I've said it when I wasn't true. I only thoought it was true at the time.

Have you ever changed your clothes while in a vehicle?
When I first started dating my ex-wife, I'd take the baby to his grandparents house, pretending that I had to work. Then I'd change into my civilian clothes in my car and go play pool.

What are you doing in 2008?
I'll let you know.

What is your ring tone?
Varies between a standard ringer and a Homer Simpson "WooHoo" depending on who's calling.

What were you doing at 2am last night?
Shooting pool.

Are your parents married/divorced/separated?
They came within 13 days of their 25th anniversary before Mom died.

What are you doing tonight?
I'm keeping my options open.

What are you doing tomorrow?
Awfully concerned about my plans, aren't you?

Who did you last message on Myspace?
LaptopGirl.

What's your opinion on sex without emotional commitment?
I think that I need at least the potential for a commited relationship. I have strayed from this in the past though.

Does it annoy you when someone says they'll call but never do?
It destroys me.

What did you dress up as for your first Halloween?
Like I have a clue.

Favourite Disney movie?
I don't know.

What is the wallpaper on your cellphone?
A picture of the bar at The Pub.

Thursday, October 4, 2007
posted by dave at 9:56 PM in category drink

There are certain things in this life that we can just take for granted. Immutable and immobile laws of reality.

Sunrises and sunsets. Death and taxes. Cats are finicky. Water is wet. I don't like hoppy beers.

Today I was at Rich O's after work, wondering about something and enjoying a beer. At about the time I ordered a second pint of the same beer, Roger (The owner of Rich O's) came up to me. Incredulous, he asked, "Do you really like that?"

Since I'd never lie about beer, I had to admit that I did. It seemed to be a bit more citrusy than I remembered, but it was still pretty damn good.

Roger then commented that it was, "Loaded with hops."

I guess I kinda sorta knew that already. It was an APA after all. But this isn't a normal hoppy APA. See, to me, hoppy has always meant bitter - especially in the finish. And this particular beer isn't bitter at all. Nope, instead of the usual piney hops, this one has what I can only call floral hops. I'm sure there's a more technical term than that, but floral is good enough for this humble venue in which I write.

The beer?

Three Floyds Gumballhead (53).

If you think you don't like hops, well then maybe you're wrong.

I know I was.

There's a first time for everything, I suppose.

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

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