It's only a matter of time before all this eye-rolling in my head breaks through to the surface. It's really nothing personal though. It's just that my first instinct, more often than not lately, has been one of anger, or disappointment, or frustration.

I think that, at my most basic and primitive level, I'm a bit of an asshole. And an idiot, mustn't forget that.

I cannot intellectually justify the irritation that I've been feeling, because there is no intellectual justification for it. It's all bullshit, but it's bullshit that's hard-wired into me. I can't change my instincts any more than a VCR can make toast.

So I keep hearing about all this crap, and I keep being watched for a reaction. Eventually I'm going to roll my eyes and piss someone off or, even worse, hurt someone's feelings.

Lately, every instinct I've had has been completely incongruent with my own sense of who I am and of who I want to be. It's a pretty shitty way to live, being in constant disagreement with oneself. This has been going on for weeks.

Also, this has been a really annoying entry to write. This is like the sixth time I've tried. I know exactly what I want to say, but how to say it - that has been eluding me.

I need a vacation from myself.

Today I was presented with the possibility of something which just might be the most terrible, mind-wrenching thing that could ever possibly happen. I described the horrific scenario in an email to RockGirl.

Now, you have to realize, RockGirl knows me and my frailties better than just about anyone on Earth. There was no doubt in my mind that she would instantly realize the implications and understand the true horrors of this scenario.

So what was her response?

"I think that would be awesome."

Clearly, RockGirl has been abducted by aliens and replaced by some kind of pod-person. I will be writing her local congressman and urging him to start an immediate investigation. Hopefully the real RockGirl's whereabouts can be determined before it's too late.

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I'm not really sure why, but today I had HairCutLady use clippers on me instead of just scissors like she normally does. My hair hasn't been this short since I got out of the Air Force in 1992. Plus, now I look like I'm about twelve years old.

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NotHideousGirl wore a skirt today. Of course I checked out her legs. But because I'm a gentleman I told her, before she even stood up, that I'd be checking out her legs. I didn't even try to be sneaky about it. They're nice, by the way.

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MisunderstoodGirl is writing a screenplay as a Summer project. People she knows are being asked to contribute character ideas to represent themselves. I can't think of a good character for myself. I thought "freelance gynecologist" was a pretty good one, but FutureDude already got dibs on that character. I'm thinking that "professional beer snob" might be the best I can come up with.

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NotHideousGirl is also considering a screenplay, but all of her characters are girls.

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Five days from right now I'll be in Las Vegas! Woooohoooo!

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I have less than five days to either find my testicles, or grow a new pair.

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I saw a pretty fucking impressive wall cloud today after work. I got really excited about the potential severe weather, but all it did was rain for a while. At least at my house that's all it did. I haven't watched any TV tonight, so maybe there's been death and destruction all around me. That would be just my luck.

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There was a chick at work today who looked very familiar to me. I think she might have been a girl I had a crush on back in junior high. If I see her again I'll have to ask her.

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Schlenkerla Marzen (219) is yummy.

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I kinda think I want to move back to Alaska. Not forever, but for a year or so. I would live in a secluded cabin and be a recluse. It would be cool.

I suppose, if I had to write an entry now, I'd write about how I don't really like the tone that things seem to be taking in my head. And I don't like the turn that things seem to be taking in my life.

And I'd write about how there are no real choices, just varying degrees of inevitable stupidity.

Luckily I don't have to write anything at all, so I won't.

I guess some guys must fall for this shit. I'm glad I'm not one of them.

Hi,

How was your weekend? Mine sucked! My boyfriend dumped me last week and I need to get out there and meet someone. I saw your profile and see that you looked pretty cool. I like older guys too. I need someone more mature. Anyways I just signed up for this dating site if you want to look me up my profile name is "summerfun2"

See more picture of me! its free to sign up! I need a date!

I also have more pictures on there too (including my trip with my girlfriends to the Bahamas last month :)

One of the things I scribbled into my notebook yesterday, I mean besides all the crap about being out of style, was that I've been finding myself very irritated with some people lately. This might not seem to be anything new for me. I am, after all, a bit of a grouch. But this recent irritation has been new.

I'm finding myself irritated with a lot of those people who are, on paper at least, closest to me. They keep telling me stuff that (a) is none of my business, and (b) I'm not sure how to respond to, and (c) they think will provoke a specific reaction.

I think that it's that last thing that's been bothering me the most. That there's always an unspoken expectation that I'm going to react to whatever I've just been told. And, beyond that, there's hope that I'm going to react in a certain way. There's always that little pause after they tell me things. They pause, and they look at me, and they wait to see how I react. To see if I react the way they want me to react.

Here's an example, which may or may not be from real life.

A friend of mine tells me that she's going to go flirt with some guy. Then she pauses. She looks at me. To see how I react to that statement. What am I, a fucking mind-reader? Am I supposed to be an encouraging friend? Am I supposed to be a little jealous? Fuck if I know. Stop looking at me like that.

It's the damn pause and the damn look that irritates me. It makes me feel like I'm back in school and the teacher has just called on me for an answer that I don't know.

I don't like this entry. I should have written it after a couple of beers. Oh, well. Too late now.

Yesterday I managed to put myself into a bit of a funk. Understandable, I suppose. Being in a good mood is kind of like wearing clothes that are completely wrong for me. I might be comfortable, and I might even look good at first glance, but once I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I realize just how ridiculous I really look.

Some people might be able to get away with leather pants and flashy jewelry, but not me. Some people might be able to get away with smiling and laughing all the time, but not me.

So yesterday I got a glimpse of myself, and I was a little embarrassed, and even a little revolted, by what I saw.

And the other reason that I found myself in a bad mood yesterday was because, once again, my inertia had run out. And I found myself hoping for another push. And, if you've been reading me for any length of time, you know that hope is a terrible thing for me to have. I wrote once that hope is a strange thing. It exists only to disappoint, for if it's fulfilled, it vanishes.

Yesterday, despite knowing better, I found myself hoping for another push; a couple of specific pushes actually. And then my stupid brain had to butt in and remind me that the odds were very much against either of those things happening, so I went into a preemptive funk.

It would be nice if happiness could have the same inertia as sadness. Maybe it can, eventually. I hope so. That would be cool.

Anyway.

For a late lunch yesterday, I took what has become my customary trip to the Buffalo Wild Wings in Louisville. I had my customary yummy Newcastle (5505) and my customary yummy naked tenders with spicy garlic sauce. I talked with the bartender, and I wrote in my notebook, and I watched nubile young girls play softball on TV. It was nice, I suppose.

Later, on the drive to downtown Louisville, there was a fuck of a storm. I was sitting at a red light and a damn newspaper box went tumbling down the road in front of me. Surreal. My truck shook violently, and I would not have even batted an eye if I'd have flipped over. Turning onto Fifth Street, I saw that it was littered with newspaper boxes and construction signs. The whole scene looked like hurricane footage from The Weather Channel.

So I stopped at Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl for a couple of minutes, then I went to The Pub. I had a Newcastle (5525) and talked with BikerGirl. I also had a new beer:

Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale (10)

(draft) Clear amber in color. No head to speak of. Very strong aroma of coconuts, of all things. Mouthfeel was fairly thin. Coconut predominates the flavor, just like it does the aroma. Smells like suntan lotion, and tastes like what I imagine suntan lotion tastes like. After an inch or so was gone, this started to taste a little better. What was strange was that I got absolutely zero indication of this beer's alleged bourbon influence.

My intention, once I got back home, was to take a nap for an hour, then go to Rich O's. Well my nap ended up being two and a half hours long, so that sucked, and I didn't get to Rich O's until after 9:00.

The place was pretty dead, but I didn't care, because LaptopGirl was there on the sofa.

Push number one!

Yay!

I sat in the throne and had a Diet Coke. My stomach was a little upset, I think because of the coconut beer. I didn't get to talk to LaptopGirl because (a) these people on the loveseat kept talking to me, and (b) LaptopGirl was talking to BigWheelGirl the whole time anyway. Still, it was of course nice to see her. And I'm probably not supposed to say this, but she looked very pretty in her pretty dress and pretty shoes.

About ten minutes after LaptopGirl and BigWheelGirl left, HatGirl came in.

Push number two!

Yay!

Take that, universe! I got both pushes, you asshole!

Feeling much better, I had myself a Delirium Tremens (1008) and a Koningshoeven Quad (508) while I talked with HatGirl and LuckyFucker for an hour or so. HatGirl was wearing these transparent sandal things, and I had to fight the urge to play "this little piggy" with her toes. It was a tough fight, but I did manage to win.

Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I had another Diet Coke and talked with WomanRepellant and MusicalYuppieDude for a while, then I went back to Louisville to hang out with WeirdGirl some more.

Oh, yeah, I have LuckyFucker's phone. It had fallen behind the sofa cushion. So maybe I'll get to see HatGirl again when I take his phone back to him. Two days in a row would be very cool.

Okay, first I need to get this out of the way. It's a beer I tried for the first time on Thursday.

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Marzen

(draft) I was not expecting to like this. I don't know why. A nice clear dark amber color. The aroma of a smoky campfire. The smoke flavor is fairly apparent, and it's just smoke - no bacon or grapes or anything else to taint the flavor. I liked this a lot.

Anyway, on to Friday night.

Rich O's was moderately crowded when I arrived. Mostly with strangers. And there was a buttload of SteveFest celebrators out in the special people section. I sat at the bar and had a Koningshoeven Quad (498), then one of the aforementioned Marzens (55).

NotHideousGirl called at one point from Louisville, and I went outside so I could talk with her for a bit. She invited me to join her at the pub but I needed to stick around Rich O's for a while longer just in case anything cool happened. When I went back in to Rich O's, I had Roger introduce me to SteveFest Steve. As I'd been expecting, I never saw him before in my life.

I was thinking that maybe there could have been some official ceremony to mark the passage from the year of DaveFest to the year of SteveFest, but there was none. One dude took pictures though, so they might show up somewhere.

After a while the strangers left the island, so I moved there. I had another Marzen (75) and talked with various people for a while. This one chick said that a ceremonial beer stein might me a good thing to incorporate into future ceremonies.

Right after I ordered my third Marzen, some secret admirer arranged for a new beer to be delivered to me.

Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Red (10)

(draft) Clear ruby-brown in color. A nice fluffy head. Sour cherries and apples in both the aroma and the flavor. Very comparable to Metreechs. Quite good.

I ended up only drinking the last half of the Marzen (85). I went over to Louisville to see this fashion show they were having for breast cancer awareness. By the time I got there, NotHideousGirl had already left. WeirdGirl wasn't working. So I hung out at Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl and had several Diet Cokes.

Once the models started stomping along the runway (why do they have to stomp around like that?) I went out and watched them for a while. I tried to take pictures but none of the turned out worth shit. All of the models were, of course, quite hot. But I found myself thinking that maybe they should divert some of the proceeds from the event to buy the poor girls something to eat. It was cool though. First time I've gone to a fashion show, mostly because I'm straight.

Oh yeah, I texted HatGirl to let her know that Dragon's Milk is on at Rich O's. She replied that they might come in Saturday night. If so, yay!

I think that's about it.