I'm in a better mood now. Not that it was a great feat or anything, as there was nowhere to go except up. But still, it's something.

Today I was treated like shit. By someone who is, ostensibly at least, a friend of mine. I may have deserved it. I almost always deserve it.

And you know what?

It was okay.

I got over it.

Also, maybe to make up for being treated like shit, I made a brand-new friend today. Here's a picture:

This is Dilly. He's an Armadillo. I never saw him before today. He stands on a shelf at Rich O's, and he moves his head up and down and side to side, following the whim of the air currents in the room.

He's fucking awesome, and I may steal him.

Also, I'm feeding these dogs while my friend is on vacation. One of the dogs is a major pain in the ass. It won't let me even think about petting either of the other dogs. If I try, it starts growling and biting. It's an asshole.

Also, my friend's cat is still afraid of me. But for the last two days I've given it kitty treats, and it's at least eating them. After I've left the room, of course. Maybe, in a zillion years or so, I'll be able to actually pet that cat. This has become my new goal in life.

Also, I'm pretty sure that, after a week of taking care of this 8,000,000 gallon aquarium with its $8,000,000 worth of exotic fish, I'll qualify for a commercial pilot's license. That will be cool, I think. Chicks dig pilots.

Also, I really need to take a break for lunch tomorrow. I hope I can spare the time away from work. I want to see BikerGirl and NotHideousGirl. And I really should talk to NotHideousGirl before it's too late to talk. If it's not too late already.

Also, they're having a sex clinic or something across the street from my work tomorrow. I don't know much more than that, but the information is here.

I guess that's it.

A couple of weeks ago, I rattled off four things without hesitation. Just four stupid things, each helping to fuel my irritation.

Then, almost an hour later, I thought of a fifth point. It was almost an afterthought, really. At least that's what I believed at the time.

And now, that fifth thing is consuming me. Fear of what it could eventually do is threatening to overwhelm me.

From its beginning as a stupid and irrelevant speck of irritation, it has grown into a stain on my psyche. And this stain is spreading. It's threatening to skew every perception I have. To destroy every bit of good will and affection I possess. And I don't know if I can stop it. I'm terrified that it might already be too late.

I actually had a dream about something similar to this once. Back then, in my dream, I was able to stop the darkness which was flowing from me. I was able to stop it because I stopped myself.

I figure it's worth a shot. If, by going into a sort of social exile, I can manage to stop this flow, maybe even reverse its progress, well then exile will be worth it.

And if not? Well, if not, then I'm truly fucked. And not in the good way. Because I don't have a plan B.

This could be bad. I mean, it's already bad, but it could be worse. I have to do something to stop it. There's too much at stake for me to simply ignore it. Everything is threatened.

Dedicated stalkers will, of course, recognize that this is where I live.

Between my house and my detached garage? That little structure is my swing. One of my favorite things to do on the warm nights is sit on my swing and contemplate various things. So, Saturday night, hoping to somewhat salvage my mood, I got myself a Left Hand Smoke Jumper (100) and went out to my swing to do some contemplating.

Right behind my swing is a tree. You can probably see it in the picture. Anyway, As I sat down, I heard this rustling from under the tree. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark yet, so I couldn't see anything. Then I heard the rustling again. Closer this time.

"Kitty kitty?" I asked hopefully.

Then there was more rustling, and something, some thing ran under the swing and across my driveway to the front of the house.

And it wasn't no damn kitty.

From what little I could see about its size and the way it moved, I'm guessing it was a big raccoon. Or a small grizzly bear.

Yes, it freaked me out a little. Rabies probably wouldn't be a fun way to die. Being mauled and/or eaten probably wouldn't be that great either.

This thing pretty much nailed me, but with only six categories, it seems to me to be fairly limited.

---

Below is Dr. Phil's test. (Dr. Phil scored 55; he did this test on Oprah - she got a 38.) Some folks pay a lot of money to find this stuff out!

Read on, this is very interesting!

Don't be overly sensitive! The following is pretty accurate and it only takes 2 minutes. Take this test for yourself and send it to your friends.

The person who sent it placed their score in the e-mail subject box. Please do the same before forwarding to your friends (send it back to the person who sent it to you.) Don't peek, but begin the test as you scroll down and answer.

Answers are for who you are now --- not who you were in the past. Have pen or pencil and paper ready

This is a real test given by the Human Relations Dept. at many of the major corporations today. It helps them get better insight concerning their employees and prospective employees. It's only 10 Simple questions, so grab a pencil and paper, keeping track of your letter answers to each question.

Make sure to change the subject of the e-mail to read YOUR total. When you are finished, forward this to friends/family, and also send it to the person who sent this to you. Make sure to put YOUR score in the subject box.

Ready?

Begin.

1. When do you feel your best?

a) in the morning
b) during the afternoon and early evening
c) late at night
B

2. You usually walk...

a) fairly fast, with long steps
b) fairly fast, with little steps
c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
d) less fast, head down
e) very slowly
A

3. When talking to people you.. .

a) stand with your arms folded
b) have your hands clasped
c) have one or both your hands on your hips
d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair
C

4. When relaxing, you sit with...

a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
b) your legs crossed
c) your legs stretched out or straight
d) one leg curled under you
D

5. When something really amuses you, you react with...

a) big appreciated laugh
b) a laugh, but not a loud one
c) a quiet chuckle
d) a sheepish smile
C

6 When you go to a party or social gathering you...

a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed
B

7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted...

a) welcome the break
b) feel extremely irritated
c) vary between these two extremes
C

8. Which of the following colors do you like most?

a) Red or orange
b) black
c) yellow or light blue
d) green
e) dark blue or purple
f) white
g) brown or gray
E

9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep you are...

a) stretched out on your back
b) stretched out face down on your stomach
c) on your side, slightly curled
d) with your head on one arm
e) with your head under the covers
D

10. You often dream that you are...

a) falling
b) fighting or struggling
c) searching for something or somebody
d) flying or floating
e) you usually have dreamless sleep
f) your dreams are always pleasant
C

POINTS:

1. (a) 2 (b) 4 (c) 6
2. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 7 (d) 2 (e) 1
3. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 5 (d) 7 (e) 6
4. (a) 4 (b) 6 (c) 2 (d) 1
5. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 2
6. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 2
7. (a) 6 (b) 2 (c) 4
8. (a) 6 (b) 7 (c) 5 (d) 4 (e) 3 (f) 2 (g) 1
9. (a) 7 (b) 6 (c) 4 (d) 2 (e) 1
10 (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 6 (f) 1

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with care." You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile, rather impulsive personality; a natural leader, who's quick to make decisions, though not always the right ones. They see you as bold and adventuresome, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the excitement you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out. You are very loyal to your friends and lovers. People find it easy to come to you with their problems, you are someone they can always rely on

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful & practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return. Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive, someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make the decisions & who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or anything! They see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some people think you' re boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

Now forward this to others, and put your score in the subject box of your e-mail, like this:

Dr. Phil's Test, I'm a...

That's all it was. All it ever was. Probably all it ever would be.

But, it was still nice to look at, and fun to build. It was an interesting challenge, I think. And, I'll admit, I often caught myself wondering what it would look like once we'd finished piecing it together. Once we got to the point where we could step back and declare it complete.

It didn't topple for the reason I'd thought it would.

But it did topple.

And I suppose that's all that really matters, in the end.

There are always excuses. Always. Sometimes they're even good ones. Believeable ones. But not very often. Most of the time, they're lies.

Cruelty isn't nearly as common, I don't think. But perhaps it's its relative rarity that makes it sting so much.

Most of the time, I see right through the lies to the truth. Most of the time, I pretend to be a believer, because to cast light on the truth would make the liar feel uncomfortable. Because I would be doing it for the wrong reasons. Because it would be not for truth, but for validation. Because it would be cruel.

And I'm not cruel.

Most of the time, I ignore the cruelty when it comes my way. Most of the time, I bite my tongue and I wait for the excuse that will surely follow. Or for the lie that will surely follow. And then I close my mouth and I pretend to swallow.

Most of the time. But I fear that I'm about to be cruel. I'm teetering on the edge. Like, the next time someone lies to me, I feel like I may just call them on their lie. Or, the next time someone says something cruel to me, I may just blurt out the first response that pops into my head.

I think that everyone needs to stay away from me for a while. I'll do my part, I hope that others do theirs.

For the record, I do not like what has become of me lately. I seem to have reverted to my 23-years-old self. I don't like it one tiny bit.

Sometimes, I think that I must have unnaturally strong finger muscles.

Maybe that's why I'm still surprised that most people can ever seem to lift a fucking finger, when that's all it would take to brighten my day and lighten my mood. Make this bullshit I use for a life seem worthwhile.

Maybe, for most people, it's hard or even impossible to lift a finger. Maybe I should stop expecting the impossible.

May as well expect people to start shitting solid gold bricks.

'Cause that's not gonna happen either.

My best friend on Earth, who I've never really met, gave me a t-shirt for my birthday a couple of years ago.

It's a gray t-shirt with the letters WTF? emblazoned in black. I'd post a picture of me wearing it, but that shirt is dirty and wrinkled right now. Come to think of it, I'm dirty and wrinkled right now. So no picture, sorry.

Anyway, lately, I've found myself wishing that I had a dozen of those shirts.

Because then I could wear them every day for the rest of my life, or until that question finally gets answered. I'd be able to go through life and I'd never have to open my mouth. I could just point to the front of my shirt.

I want to ask my boss, WTF?

I want to ask my sister, and I want to ask NotHideousGirl, and I want to ask MixedSignalGirl, and I want to ask LaptopGirl, and I want to ask BadPickleGirl and WeirdGirl and I even want to ask TremensGirl.

I want to ask them all, WTF?

The actual question would be different in every case, but the actual wording of the question could be the same. It would be all efficient and shit

---

Meanwhile, today it will be six weeks since MixedSignalGirl left. I'm still waiting for that fact to really hit me. I am in such deep denial, I'm surprising even myself.

Nobody really knows what this is about. Except for my best friend, who I've never really met.

As I write this, I'm sitting at Hooter's in Clarksville, notebook in hand. Or notebook on bar actually. It's my pen that's in my hand. I bet it would be a lot harder to write if those positions were reversed.

The perverts next to me keep hitting on the pretty bartenders and scaring them away. This really sucks for me, because I'd kinda like to surreptitiously drool look at the pretty bartenders, but I can't when they keep getting scared away to the other end of the bar.

Anyway, I'm here with my notebook because I'm thinking that a change of scenery might do me some good. Inspire me or something, maybe. I probably could have written something last night after I became superfluous and moved from the living room area to the bar. But I didn't have my notebook with me. Oh well. Probably for the best. I was in such a crappy mood, and I bet that anything I'd have written would have reflected that mood. Unlike the light and breezy stuff I ended up writing after I got home last night.

You can all thank me later, if you'd like.

So I'm in Clarksville at this Hooter's because it's kinda on the way home. Kinda. A couple of hours ago, I was at a friend's house watering dogs and feeding fish and (inadvertently) scaring a cat. Poor kitty.

Then, I went to Famous Dave's for some dinner. And now I'm here. Like I said, kinda on the way home.

Pretty exciting stuff, huh?

And now I'm going to stop writing because BadPickleGirl has called me to see if I want to go hang out by a swimming pool with her.

Duh.

---

Well, that was fun. False (inferred only) advertising though, as she was fully-clothed at all times. So no bikini action. There were also two dogs there, so between my friend's three dogs earlier and these two dogs tonight, I'm pretty much dogged-out.

Plus, my cats are all afraid of me now because I smell like dogs.

Okay, when I was sitting at Famous Dave's this evening, having some yummy catfish tenders and a yummy Newcastle (7327), I noticed this coaster under my glass:

This struck me as being really funny. Because whoever made this up probably thought it was a good slogan which would cause lots of Miller Lite to be sold.

Anyway, I turned over the coaster, and found this:

And this struck me as being even funnier. Because saying Best American-Style Light Lager is kinda like saying swilliest swill or pissiest piss.

Somebody needs to tell these Miller people, who keep bragging about this award, somebody needs to tell them that American-Style Light Lager is NOT a classification.

It's a diagnosis.