Girls who want it:

That one girl.

That other girl.

That girl that I still think about every now and then.

Girls who need it:

The girl from that place.

That girl who I like a lot.

That girl I met that one night.

That one hot girl who doesn't think she's hot for some stupid reason.

Girls who deserve it:

Nobody I can think of.

You know what's annoying?

I know who she is now. I say it all the time. I'll mention her name, and whoever I'm talking to will ask, "Who's that again? Did I meet her?"

"She's the one," I'll say.

I don't hesitate at all. There's no doubt in my mind, not now. But back when it mattered, back when it might have made a difference, doubt tainted every thought and every action and every word in my life. And now, I can't find it anywhere. It's gone, like it never existed at all.

There's nothing I could have done differently. I know it. She knows it. I did what I had to do, said what I had to say, felt what I had to feel. And so did she.

We're not even friends anymore. Not really. We're just ghosts that haunt each other from time to time.

And so now I know, without a doubt, who she is, and it's too late. Sometimes I think it was too late before it even began.

I found the one.

Now, I have to find another one.

Hope that there's another one.

And hope that doubt doesn't come back.

All day, I looked forward to drinking the last Schlenkerla Marzen in my fridge. It was a nice feeling, knowing that, no matter how boring the rest of my day was, I'd be able to end it with something special.

But noooooooooooo!

Apparently, I drank my last Marzen last night, while Eric was here. So tonight I had a new (for me) Belgian instead:

Chimay Rogue (Red)

(bottle) Cloudy dark amber. Smallish head. Faint aroma of dark fruits and malt. Flavor fairly mild, consisting mostly of apples and plums. A little drying at the finish. Pretty good.

Anyway.

I don't know that I have enough material on any single subject to make an entry about it, so I suppose I'll just list some random crap.

---

At the hotel in Philly, there was some kind of showbiz-people convention going on. I know that television news was represented, because one of the guys I talked to a lot had been a TV news reporter in Chicago for like 38 years. And at least one guy I talked to was some kind of theatre performer or director or something like that.

Wednesday night, I was sitting at the hotel bar. I glanced over at the big TV, and they had The Larry King Show playing. I didn't think too much about it until I looked at the table directly in front of the TV and saw Larry King sitting there.

At least I'm pretty sure that it was Larry King. People always look older in person than on a screen. So it might have been Larry's great-great grandfather instead. Either way, it was kind of interesting.

---

I had a dream this evening about one of my female friends. The dream was disturbing to me. Not, as one might expect, because it was a sex dream. I'm actually used to having sex dreams about some of my female friends. This particular dream was disturbing because it wasn't a sex dream. Instead, it was one of those touchy-feely hugs and soft kisses dreams. And it was very nice and sweet. So, shit!

---

Today I bought a new George Foreman grill and a deep fryer. Then I grilled a couple of hamburgers and cooked some fries. I don't know why I do these strange things. I hate cooking for myself, and I'm perfectly happy going out to eat. So now I've got two new appliances that I'll never use again.

---

Some things in my life are starting to turn around. So I don't have much grief these days. This whole being in a good mood thing is something I might have to learn to accept. No matter how boring it makes the stuff I write.

---

But still, I find myself wanting more. All the time. That desire will probably keep my creative fires burning for a while longer. I hope so, anyway. A life without desire wouldn't be much of a life, I don't think.

---

Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I've got to leave extra early because of the construction traffic, then I've got to stay extra late to give NotHideousGirl a ride home. I'm sure I'll be pretty exhausted by the time I get home tomorrow night.

---

I should try to sleep now.

Ugh. This morning I'm hung-over. Not my fault though. More on that later.

While I was in Philadelphia, I had me some NotHideousGirl and BikerGirl withdrawal symptoms. Nothing too severe, but I most definitely noticed the lack of pretty girls to talk to. So, early yesterday afternoon, I went over and talked to BikerGirl while she worked. I had a yummy Newcastle (6680) while I was there. I was going to get something to eat, but nothing really looked appealing, so I picked up some Long John Silver's on the way home instead.

Later, when I left to go to Rich O's, I invited NotHideousGirl to come with me. She readily agreed, and we got to Rich O's a little after 8:00.

The place was completely packed, with about half PBDs and half strangers. The strangers were particularly annoying because they'd taken over the living room area. So NotHideousGirl and I sat at the island with some semi-regulars and drank and attempted to talk. I had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (2036).

Eventually, the strangers on the loveseat left, so we moved over there. Then, the rest of them left so I moved to the throne. The next couple of hours we just kinda vegged out. I had two more Rogues (2076).

Oh, yeah. Earlier in the night my friend Eric had called to say that he might be up for going out later. So after I took NotHideousGirl home at 11:00 or so I went back to Rich O's. I'd cut myself off by then, so I had a Diet Coke and talked to a couple of people I don't really know. Then I came home.

Eric called while I was on the way home, and I invited him over to my house for a couple beers. I broke into my beer fridge and gave Eric a nice Belgian that I'd been saving. I had a Schlenkerla Marzen (569) myself. I did end up having a bit of Eric's Belgian, but I didn't have enough to base an official review on. Plus, I was pretty tipsy by then.

So we talked for a few hours. We split a small bottle of some smoked beer that somebody gave me a couple of months ago. I liked it, but again, I was in no shape to remember enough about it to make an official review. Eric left at about 3:30, and I went to bed almost immediately.

Anyway, it's Eric's fault that I'm hung-over this morning.

The stewardess for the flight to Philadelphia provided not just one, but two sources of amusement concern for me.

First, there had been a bit of confusion behind me. People were sitting in other peoples' seats. These things happen, but I guess they got a little loud.

Then the guy with the window seat next to my aisle seat showed up. I moved to stand up and get out of his way, and the stewardess came running up to us. Not walking quickly, professionally, and with purpose. Fucking running.

So I've got the dude who needs the seat, standing in the aisle next to my seat. And I've got the stewardess standing about an inch in front of him. There was nowhere for me to go. The stewardess locked eyes with me and asked, "Do we have a problem here?"

"I was going to stand up and get out of this guy's way so he could sit down," I replied. "But you're totally blocking me from doing so."

For about 6 hours, absolutely nothing happened except that the stewardess kept her eyes locked onto mine. It was probably the creepiest six hours of my entire life. I fully expected her to call security and have them remove me from the plane and stick fingers into my ass. Then, finally, her meds kicked in or something. She said, "Foin" and turned around and walked back to the front of the plane.

Foin?

Yep, that's what she said. And that leads me to the second item of concern.

The chick was some kind of a freak. Or maybe a pod person. Or maybe a robot with a faulty language module.

At first I thought that it was just my imagination. But I've since talked with some of my coworkers, who shared the same flight, and they all noticed it.

The stewardess had a strong cockney accent, but only some of the time.

What's up with that?

Like, she'd say things like, "Ploise stoi yoi troi toibles to their loicked poisition, and ensure that your seatbacks are fully upright." And, when we had to sit on the tarmac for a half an hour for some stupid reason, she said, "Ladies and gentleman, I'll be doing a quick beverage service in a couple of minutes. Beer and woine are foive doillars. Soida and woiter and joices are coimplimentoiry."

Just freaking weird.

I realized a little while ago, as I sat smiling about the fourteen most beautiful words I've seen in a long time and emailing RockGirl, I realized that I'd better write something. Because it's been a while. And, honestly, it's been a nice little break. But I fear that if I don't write something quickly then I might never bother to write anything again.

And that bleak future scares me, so here I am.

Anyway, I'm back home. Got back Friday afternoon. The trip sucked, as I'd known it would. I scribbled a few notes, so I might write up a Philly Trip Report eventually. But I might not. Ditto for a Friday Beer Report about last night.

I think I need to ease back into this blogging stuff.

Thanks to everyone who noticed that I was gone.

Okay, I'm leaving now. Going to have lunch with NotHideousGirl, then go to the airport for my fun-filled Philly week.

I might not post for a while.

It's kind of interesting, in a sick and twisted way, to see just how much bullshit I can put up with. To see what, if anything, it might take to wipe this smile from my face. This happiness from my soul.

Trivial and ostensibly non-trivial bullshit keeps trying to knock me down. But I'm still standing.

The latest round of bullshit, the one I've been thinking about tonight, is all coming from myself. Outside forces are trying to bother me, but they're not having any success, and I'm a little annoyed by that fact.

I mean, there are things that I should be concerned about. There are things that I should be pissed about. But, I'm neither of those things. Not very much, anyway. Certainly not as much as a normal person would be. And that's what bothers me even more than those things that aren't bothering me.

The best I can come up with is a bit of mild irritation, and maybe some slightly more than passing interest.

Anyway, everybody has been lying to me. For days now. Maybe weeks. Well, everybody except for a couple of people. Gotta be careful with that everybody word - it's loaded.

(Deleted several examples of the aforementioned lies.)

I really should be sick and tired of all of this bullshit. But I'm not.

It's even kinda fun, in a sick and twisted way.

I forgot about this. When I got home I had an email from NotHideousGirl in which she said that I'd called her several times, but not said anything when she answered. I was pretty sure that I'd remember something like that, but I checked my phone anyway.

Sure enough, right after midnight I'd called her five times. All of the calls were less than a minute. See, I seem to have misplaced the holster thingy for my phone, so my phone was in my front pocket. Those calls went out at about the time I was driving home, so the pressure from the seatbelt must have caused the calls. Either that, or my dick really wanted to talk to NotHideousGirl. But that wouldn't make any sense, because they've never met. Maybe my dick was trying to call WeirdGirl and kept misdialing. Stupid dick.

I'm a little hung-over this morning. I don't think it's that I drank too much. It's just that I didn't eat anything all day yesterday except a pack of crackers. I don't know why I didn't stop and eat something either before Rich O's or after. Probably because I'm stupid.

Anyway, I got to Rich O's a little after 8:00, and sat in the throne, and had a Rogue Chocolate Stout (1856). Then I don't think I did anything of import for a couple of hours except text NotHideousGirl a couple of times. I was getting pretty bored, but then HatGirl texted me that she was on her way. That perked me right up. I texted NotHideousGirl that HatGirl was coming, but she was busy.

After a few minutes HatGirl and LuckyFucker arrived. By that time I'd managed to run everyone away from the sofa and loveseat, so those two sat on the sofa and we talked for an hour or so, mostly about hookers I think. This was about when I ordered my second Rogue Chocolate Stout (1876). TremensGirl was there at some point.

HatGirl has apparently been taking night classes on drinking or something. She actually finished her Chimay. LuckyFucker had a Rogue Imperial Porter, and I tried to smell it to see if I wanted one of those next, but the Chocolate Stouts I was drinking had deadened my olfactory nerves, and I didn't smell a thing.

Oh yeah, they were having a 20th anniversary party for Sportstime Pizza in the special people room. I walked through there once but I didn't stay.

The whole damn night was really subdued. After HatGirl and LuckyFucker left I had another Chocolate Stout (1896) and a Diet Coke. I talked to MusicalYuppieDude and WomanRepellant for a while, then I came home.