I thought I'd lost my rock, and it took me over a half an hour to find it. Then, on the way to Wendy's to get something to eat, I started having a panic attack. By the time I got to Wendy's I could barely stand up. Even my legs were shaking.

It might have been residual panic from thinking I'd lost my rock. It might have been because the last time I'd gone to Wendy's had been on Awkward Night. Or it might have been for some completely random reason. All I know is that it was bad.

After I ate, I felt a little better, and I went to Rich O's. I had to park on Mars, and so I was pleasantly surprised to see that the entire living room area was empty. Of course I grabbed the throne. I ordered a Stone Smoked Porter (400). StoreGirl came in right after I did and she sat on the loveseat.

There was a dude there from Velocity, one of the local free papers. He was taking pictures of the place for some bar-hopper segment they do. Then he came and sat on the sofa and talked to StoreGirl and me for a while. He got our names and conducted a little interview with me because I'm famous and shit. He seemed particularly interested in the customer appreciation festivals like DaveFest and SteveFest. It was pretty cool. This was actually the second time I'd been interviewed at Rich O's. The other time was a couple of years ago.

After the newspaper dude left, people started showing up. The living room area got pretty crowded, and my panic attack resumed with added intensity. I was actually starting to wonder if there might me something physically wrong with me.

Then LaptopGirl came in and smiled, and I was fine after that.

For the next couple of hours, I sat on the loveseat and talked with LaptopGirl. It was surreal and fantastic. I had another Stone (420). Once LaptopGirl left, I moved back to the throne and talked with MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl and CoffeeDude for a bit. I ordered another Stone, but I only drank half of it (430). I had a Diet Coke and then I came home.

I couldn't sleep at all so I sat on my swing and thought about happy things.

It might seem, to those of you who read this entry, that I went out to the bar last night. It would be a perfectly understandable mistake.

I got there at 8:00 or so. It was pretty crowded, mostly with regulars. I ordered a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (34) and sat on the sofa.

For about ten seconds.

The music was too fucking loud there. Way too loud. I'm talking concert-level sound. So I picked up my shit and moved up to the island.

For about ten minutes.

The assholes behind me were practically screaming at each other, just to be heard over the music. Plus I think they were drunk. Their shouting was threatening to vibrate my skull apart, and that would have been gross, so I picked up my shit and moved to the bar.

My second beer was a Stone Smoked Porter (380), which isn't my favorite smoked beer but it's pretty good when it's on tap. I sat there and talked with TallLady and various people about various things.

At one point one of the bartenders poured me a sample of a new beer for me. This is actually a beer I bought for myself the other day, but it still sits unopened in my beer fridge.

Malheur 10 (4)

(bottle) Hazy gold with lots of fizz. Good-sized head. Aroma fairly standard for Belgian ales. Flavor quite yummy. The usual for this style, but with some tiny hints of spices and maybe even some caramel in there.

Once it was gone, I finished my porter and talked with WomanRepellant and various other people about various crap. Towards the end of the night I had a Diet Coke and talked with TremensGirl about various crap, like how she's under the delusion that I'm brave.

Like I said, it might seem like I went to the bar last night. But it only seems that way.

What I really did, what I really did was take a deep breath, and then hold it for four hours. Then, when I got into my truck to drive home, I exhaled.

And tonight I'll probably do it all again.

Last night I was accused of being brave. Specifically, I was accused of being brave when I write my drivel.

I didn't think it was a particularly fair or accurate accusation but because I am, at my core and fuck anyone who says otherwise, a nice guy, I didn't argue with it very much. And I didn't laugh hysterically until my accuser had left.

See, to me bravery is doing something in spite of fear.

And that's definitely not what I'm doing here, when I write my drivel. Not at all.

What I'm doing here, is I'm writing because of desperation. I'm writing because of stupidity and selfishness. I'm writing for an awful lot of reasons, but bravery isn't one of those reasons. It's not even close.

Mostly, I think, I'm writing not in spite of my fears, but because of them. Because I'm afraid of every other outlet for these words and these feelings. I write of these things because I'm afraid to speak them aloud, and because I'm also afraid of exploding if I don't give them some outlet.

So please, don't think of me as brave. I don't deserve it. These things that I write, they are a coward's words.

That seemed a lot better in my head than it ended up on the screen. So I've deleted it. But I'll rewrite it, and I'll try to do a better job.

I think that, to a lot of my friends, I'm quite handy. I'm a flashlight in the bottom of a cluttered kitchen drawer. Used briefly, and then put away and forgotten. Until the next time I'm needed. It's a lonely existence most of the time, but it's still nice to be useful.

---

I went and bought some bottles of Spezial Rauchbier today. I had two of them tonight (1504). It's pretty damn good. I want more.

---

Tomorrow is virtual Friday for me. Then it's a four-day weekend. What will I do during this four-day weekend? I'll wait and hope, of course. What else would I do?

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Just about every day, when it's warm, I walk to The Pub for lunch. Google says it's seven-tenths of a mile. It seems longer than that.

---

In two and a half weeks I'll be in Las Vegas again. I should really start trying to get excited about the trip. I could certainly use the distraction.

---

HarpO wrote an entry yesterday which contained this sentence:

"Sometimes people do every thing to lead you on then if you make the effort to respond they pretend you acted without stimulus."

I'm think that this just might be the truest statement ever written. Also, HarpO and I are apparently living parallel lives.

---

I opened my present from yesterday, and it was exactly what I thought it was. It made me smile for about an hour.

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Today I spent a lot of money on something that I'll probably never use.

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I'm very confused about tonight's Lost finale. If the thing with Jack was supposed to be in the future, then why was his dad still alive?

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There are two people, ostensibly among my best friends for my entire life, and I haven't seen one of them in seven months, and I haven't seen the other one in almost a year. This is not completely my fault.

---

I'm in a weird mood.

There are things that I cannot allow myself to write about in any detail at all, no matter how much I want to. Why I was so happy a couple of weeks ago. Why I fell back into despair a few days ago.

They are two sides of the same coin. It's as simple as that. And as cryptic as that.

I am dancing in the light, or I am cowering in the dark. I am laughing hysterically and grinning from ear to ear, or tears are streaming down my face. I live a binary life.

I am not ashamed. Not anymore. I used to be, back when this all started, but not anymore. I might as well be ashamed of my height, or of the color of my hair. I had no choice about those things either.

Shame is not why I stay silent, and shame is not why I cloak my writings in drivel like the above. Neither am I particularly afraid.

I'm just trying to prove, to myself mostly, that I've learned from the mistakes of my past.

Sometimes I think it might be nice to be a normal person. But not always, or even very often. Because I know that, if I were a normal person, then two Saturdays ago would have just been another Saturday, and this past Saturday would have been just another Saturday.

I would not trade two Saturdays ago for anything. Even if it means that I have to have nights like this past Saturday. You gotta have the bad to appreciate the good, or something like that. Well, it works out pretty well, when the good is glorious, and the bad has become something I'm used to. The theme of my life, I suppose.

I forget where I was going with this.

...but only because it might do something do drag me out of this funk. Even if it's only for a couple of hours, it would still be pretty nice to feel good again, or at least not feel miserable for a while.

It's the thought that counts, right?

Well, maybe for some people, but usually not for me. I'm not a mind-reader, after all. Sometimes the thought isn't enough. Sometimes it's the action caused by those thoughts that really counts, and that really makes a difference.

Somebody gave me a present today.

I don't know what it is, and I haven't opened it. I haven't opened it because (a) I think I know what it is, and (b) if I'm wrong then that'll just be another thing to disappoint me.

So, for now, it stays wrapped. For now, it has the potential to make me smile. And it will stay that way until I can't stand the suspense anymore, until I rip it open and see for sure what it is.

Today I got to see NotHideousGirl briefly at lunch, and I got to meet her father, NotHideousDad.

I'm pretty sure that nothing relevant happened Friday night.

Ditto for Saturday night except that this one girl told me that I was hot before she got too drunk to be believable. So that was cool.

Then today my graphics card died on me, and I had to go to Best Buy to get a new one. There was a hot rod show across the street from Best Buy, and I was going to stop and look at the cool cars, but then I remembered that (a) I'm unfit for human company and (b) I couldn't guarantee that nobody would try to talk to me. So I just came home instead.

I was going to just stop writing in this blog until this current mood levels off, but the fact is that I need this outlet.

Don't expect much though.

I know I'm not.

What a fucking waste of a life few months weekend that was.

That is all.