I got my first-ever anonymous gift from a reader a couple of weeks ago. At least I assume it was from a reader. There was no note with the gift. No email has arrived to explain anything. Just a box from amazon.com, with a copy of The Game inside.

Weird, huh?

The book somehow manages to be both intriguing and repulsive. It's certainly interesting. It's kind of inspired me, actually. Not to be one of those guys or act like one of those guys. Instead it's inspired me to simply open up a little. Be more friendly to people around me. Not be such a grouch all the time.

So I've been doing that, and I've been in a much better mood lately. I'm no longer pretending to be a normal and friendly person, I'm actively working on becoming a normal and friendly person. It's tough at times, talking to people that I don't know. Especially when they're idiots. But it's kinda fun, too.

I've also noticed that my urge to write here has suffered. Perhaps I'm only allowed one outlet for expression at a time. Perhaps this is merely a lull. Perhaps it's growing pains.

Today I was eating lunch, and these two hot girls came in to The Pub. Because I'm trying to work on my friendliness, plus I like to meet women, I waved at them from across the bar. Even though I'd never seen them before. Hey, you never know, right?

The more exotic girl didn't even see me, but the girl with the flowing dark hair, that girl gave me a weird look and kind of stuck her hand up at me in a semi-acknowledgement. A pseudowave.

I watched them eat together. The girl who'd pseudowaved at me was just so lively, and so pretty, and so expressive, and so happy. I developed a ginormous crush on her. She was just fascinating to look at, even though she was sitting at least twenty yards away from me, and I had to squint a little.

Every now and then she'd catch me looking at her, and then she'd either give me another pseudowave or she'd smile or something.

After about a half-hour, she went to the bathroom and then when she came out she walked right up to me and said, "Hi. Do I know you from somewhere?"

What I was supposed to say was the truth. That I'd only waved at her because she was pretty and I wanted to meet her. That meeting her had become my goal for the day. That I'd have loved a chance to talk to her and get to know her.

But that's not what I said.

What I said was, "I'm sorry, when you first came in I thought you were someone else. My mistake."

Why would I say such a thing? A beautiful girl smiles at me, and waves at me, and then walks up and talks to me, and I blow her off?!?

What kind of pickup artist am I, anyway?

Well, I'd been thinking, as I watched her eat with her friend. Thinking is, of course, always a bad idea. But I'd been doing it anyway.

I'd been thinking about how much she reminded me of MixedSignalGirl when we'd first started going out. And of MixedSignalGirl the last few times I'd seen her. And how starkly those beginning and end times had contrasted with all the times in between. I'd been thinking about how I'd made MixedSignalGirl so sad, and I'd been thinking about how the last thing I'd ever want to do would be to do the same thing to this pretty girl with the incredible smile and the flowing dark hair. Turn her into some brooding and sulking thing.

It would have been an unforgivable sin.

I'd been thinking that I couldn't do it. That I'd gotten lucky once. MixedSignalGirl had recovered. I had no way of knowing what harm I'd cause this new girl, if I were given that opportunity. How permanent that harm might be.

So, I blew her off.

And she accepted my explanation. And she walked away smiling. I hope that her life keeps her smiling for a very long time.

The other day I announced loudly to my coworkers, "I'm too damn nice."

I waited about thirty seconds. I got nothing. So I said it even louder.

"I'M TOO DAMN NICE!"

This time I got a response.

"Yeah you are," came the muffled response from the back of the room.

Thank you! That's what I wanted to hear.

I'm too damn nice.

The bullshit I put up with. The other cheeks that I turn.

But at some point, even I run out of patience.

You know what I wish?

I wish you would stop lying to me.

Because I can forgive lie after lie after lie after lie until, all of a sudden, there's one lie too many. This camel's back breaks.

And then, then I'm not so damn nice anymore. And then I'll never believe another word you say.

Just tell the fucking truth. It can be yes or it can be no. It's almost never maybe, though that's the answer you keep shovelling at me.

It's simple. I ask the question. I expose myself. I do the hard part.

All you have to do is answer the question, and answer it honestly.

Why is that so much to ask?

Yes. Or. No.

This entry brought to you by:

Unibroue Don De Dieu

(bottle) Hazy light amber in color. Huge head. Fantastic aroma of apple peels and bananas and cherries. A strong Belgian wheat flavor. More sharp and tangy than most. Think Blue Moon on steroids. Yummy.

Who was that guy? Seriously, who the fuck was he, and what was his problem?

Don't even try to tell me that guy was me. You'll never convince me. He might have looked like me, and sounded like me, and lived in my house, but he most definitely wasn't me. I would never allow myself to get that messed-up over losing something I never wanted in the first place. No way. That's just crazy.

That guy was fucked-up. I am normal.

For example:

I miss LaptopGirl. As a friend and nothing else. I'm allowed to miss my friend, so fuck off if you don't like it.

I miss MixedSignalGirl. As much more than a friend. But I'm so happy for her, that she's finally found the happiness that was misplaced when she met me. And there's a contentedness about her now. I don't think she ever had that before. I will not take any credit for that transformation, but I'm sure as hell glad that I got to see it.

I miss HatGirl. Because, more than anyone else, she reminds me of the good that is possible in the world. Of how wonderful people can be as long as they just stop trying, and just be themselves.

I miss BadPickleGirl. And I wonder what happened. I'd thought we were getting along just fine. I'd thought there was potential there. Damn she's beautiful.

I miss KittenDamsel. I hope that she's doing okay, and I hope that she finds what she's looking for.

And my dear friend SassyGirl. The only truly platonic girlfriend I've ever had, and maybe the best of them all.

I miss RockGirl. Though I've never met her. Though we email each other every day. She is my strength, and I weaken when too many hours pass without her.

There are so many others. MysteryGirl. PictureGirl. EnglishGirl. PonyTailGirl. EllaGirl. MaineGirl. The girl with the beautiful brown eyes. The girl who was married to my best friend.

I miss them all.

But I'm okay. I'm not obsessed.

I'm normal.

Sane.

Finally.

Wow, two decent nights in a row at Rich O's. I'd never have believed it. Especially not on a weekend when I knew there'd be no HatGirl sightings.

I got there at 8:30 or so, and parked on Mars. The local PBDs and some Cincy PBDs were having a big meeting in the special people area. So that place was packed, but Rich O's proper wasn't too bad. Some weirdoes were in the living room area, and some strangers were at the island. I sat at the end of the bar and had a Wostyntje (129).

Oh yeah, yesterday I stopped at this liquor store and bought about $100 worth of Belgian ales - the big 25-ounce bottles. Mostly stuff I've never had before, but a couple of known favorites. I tried to call BadPickleGirl to let her know about these fantastic new tasting opportunities, but I got no answer. I pretty much managed to convince myself that she wasn't ignoring my call. Pretty much.

Some drunk dude sat next to me at one point, and he kept trying to talk to me, but then Roger distracted him with talk of jazz, so I picked up my shit and moved to the island since the strangers had left.

After a while, UPSDude came and joined me. I spent the next couple of hours talking with him. I also made a couple of trips into the special people area to talk to some of the PBDs. On one such trip, there were a bunch of Cincy PBD girls standing around in a group. I wanted to meet them, so I "accidentally" bumped into one. That got me shanghaied into about five minutes worth of dance lessons. It was that riverdance crap. I kept trying to protest, pointing out that I'm both straight and white. The former preventing me from being able to master that particular dance style, and the latter preventing any other styles that they might want to suggest. But they kept trying, like I said, for about five minutes. Eventually they gave up and I was allowed to leave.

One of the girls was wondering out loud if I'd be blogging about it. I guess she can stop wondering now.

Let's see, my next two beers were both Delirium Tremens (814). No, it's not on tap right now. I had two bottles. I just wanted something light so I wouldn't have a repeat of Friday night's time bomb.

Shortly after UPSDude left, the PBD meeting broke up, and a lot of them came swarming into Rich O's proper. I got a little claustrophobic after a while, and I came home at around midnight.

Okay, so that one particular cool thing didn't happen. But it was still a pretty nice night. I got to relax and look at pretty girls. And I got to wear my cool new t-shirt.

They're having a big S.I.G.H. convention around here somewhere, and all the girls seemed to have picked Rich O's as the place to unwind. From their hotness seminars or pillow fight tournaments or whatever they do at those things.

So the place was packed, but there were at least ten very pretty girls there. This is at least nine and a half more than usual. Pretty girls definitely make the crowd bearable.

When I first arrived, I sat on the loveseat. Some semi-acquaintances were scattered about the rest of the living room area. They know SassyGirl, so I told them about how I'd finally been getting emails from her. We talked for a bit about the good old days of lesbian mud-wrestling parties. I had an NABC Old Lightning Rod (190).

After a bit I moved up to the island and sat with MusicalYuppieDude and some PBDs. My second beer was a Wostyntje (119).

CoffeeDude and WomanRepellant came in at some point. I was talking to them when the President of S.I.G.H. arrived with some dork. I almost lost all self-control, and it's only thanks to CoffeeDude's impromptu therapeutic intervention that I kept from making a complete fool of myself. I did, however, have a Rogue Smoke (450) and then couple of Diet Cokes to kill some time so I could keep looking at Madam President when the opportunities arose.

Oh yeah, at 10:00 or so I drunk-emailed BadPickleGirl. This is always a waste of time because she won't even get the thing until Monday.

Anyway, I've been developing this theory about beer. About me and beer actually. There are some beers, and some combinations of beers, that I simply should not be drinking.

Last night I stumbled on one such combination.

I felt fine when I left Rich O's, at about midnight. I spent some time digging around for some batteries for my camera. Then I took those two awesome pictures above.

Right after I took the second picture, I fell back against the wall, and I was immediately drunk.

Spinning room drunk.

Pretty damn weird.

So I didn't get to practice pool last night. Instead I went to bed and hoped that I wouldn't get sick.

I didn't.

One of the fun things about being a crazy person is that I get to fool myself into thinking that good things might happen. Sometimes, I even convince myself that they will happen.

Like tonight. There's a ridiculously small possibility that this one particular cool thing will happen. But do I care about the odds?

Nope. I've spent all day mentally preparing myself for the cool thing. I've even got special clothes picked out. It's been so much fun.

Of course, every silver lining has a dark cloud, so when the cool thing doesn't happen, I'll snap back to reality, and I'll be quite disappointed.

But then, then the sane part of my mind will take over, and remind me that the odds were really really really against it to begin with.

And then I'll feel better.

And then I'll invent some other fantasy to get ready for.

Wednesday was a pretty good day. Thursday wasn't so great. A couple of people in my life got some disturbing news, and I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. Or say. Or feel. Please note that these instances are completely unrelated to my previous entry. In that case, I know exactly what I should do, which is nothing.

After work, I went by Rich O's to have their Old Lightning Rod beer (170). They only have this available in January. It's some kind of tribute to Ben Franklin. I wish they'd have it on all the time because it's one of the best beer they've ever made there.

When I got home, I was supposed to just take a nap, but I slept right through my alarm. My two-hour nap ended up being a six-hour sleep. So now it's almost 2:00 and I'm wide awake.

I kept a schedule like this on purpose for a while. I actually liked it. The solitude I got from just being at home always seemed to be magnified in the middle of the night, and I liked it.

Now, not so much. I don't know what's changed. I guess there's a fine line between solitude and loneliness, and at some point over the past few months I've crossed that line.

Oh, well.

Maybe I'll read a book. One of the Heinlein juveniles. They're nice quick reads.