Every place was closed tonight. At least every place I felt like going to was closed. So I just came home and opened a bottle of Bluegrass Mephistopheles Metamorphosis. This bottle is completely flat too.

---

I think every risk should have an associated reward. You have to weigh them against each other. If the risk is too great, or if the reward is too small, then you pass on the whole thing. This is just common sense. And then there are times when there's no real risk, and there's no detectable reward. Then it just becomes a fucking waste of time.

---

Happy Birthday to LaptopGirl. There, I fucking said it. Fuck off if you don't like it.

---

I have some relatives who seem to be pissed at me for some unknown and probably stupid reason. I feel like I should give a shit, but I don't.

---

I think that the perfect scenario would be for me to somehow win a gazillion dollars in Las Vegas and then never come back here except to retrieve my pool cue and my cats.

---

I didn't ask for this bullshit. I don't think I deserve it either.

---

Maybe I should get me one of those voice recorder dealies. I have these stupid random thoughts all day long. I could record them and post them in my blog to show the world how boring I am.

For anyone trying to figure out what I want for Christmas, that was a hint.

---

There was one path to forgiveness but she didn't take it. Her loss. I really shouldn't care, but I'm not getting any younger I suppose, so I do care.

---

I'd decided that I would politely decline the invitation. Now, now I've decided otherwise. Bring it on. I'm looking forward to it.

---

Seriously, what the fuck is going on? Am I being set up? Am I being placed into the batting order? Am I being benched? I think I've done everything I can do to get put into the game. Yes or no, please. No more fucking maybe.

---

Tonight I might get to see HatGirl and NotHideousGirl. Either would be cool. Both would be fucking awesome. So I probably won't see either one them.

---

I keep writing about the same subject and then deleting it. It's over, and every time I write about it, it gets more stupid and pointless.

---

This beer is fucking with my head.

---

There was a girl at Rich O's last night that looked like puppyshark. She was hot.

---

I miss SassyGirl.

---

I am so excited for my friend RockGirl. This thing she's going through is similar to what I went through at this time last year. It was the beginning of the end of the pain. I'm so excited for her.

---

I need to make it to Memphis one of these weekends to see harpo play a gig.

I wish I had musical talent.

---

I wish I had more turkey to eat right now. All I've got is some Nacho Cheese Doritos. Not quite the same thing.

I think I've figured something out. I think I know who started this. Whatever this is.

---

My turkey nap lasted a lot longer than I'd intended. I'm still going out though, as soon as my shirt dewrinkles. I don't know where I'm going. I don't even know if there are any places open.

---

So there are three people who pretty much know everything. Two of those people give me completely wrong advice. What's funny is that each gives different advice. But they're both quite wrong. The answer doesn't lie in either of those directions, because there is no answer.

The third person understands that.

---

I got to talk to BadPickleGirl this morning. It was, once again, a very pleasant surprise. Bordering on astonishment actually. There, she's said that she wanted more mention here.

---

Tomorrow I get to go shopping. Not because of the whole post-Thanksgiving shopping mania. Just because I need some shit. Like a new suitcase, and maybe some jeans. Most of my old jeans are mysteriously shrinking. So I need to buy some new shit before I leave Sunday morning.

---

Vegas, baby! Woo hoo!

---

One of my friends doesn't seem to be my friend anymore. That's a shame to me. Would have been nice to at least have had a chance to say goodbye.

---

They were going to fry a turkey today, but the fryer started spewing hot oil out through some holes, and we were afraid that we'd ended up burning the house down. Luckily, my sister had a spare Turkey roasting in the oven.

---

I'm outta here.

The night before Thanksgiving is typically one of the busier nights of the year at the bar. Last night was no exception.

After a quick meal at the haunted Burger King, I got to Rich O's at a little after 8:00.

THE PLACE WAS FUCKING LOUD. AT FIRST I DIDN'T THINK THERE WAS ANY PLACE TO SIT, BUT TALLLADY MOVED HER SHIT AND SO I WAS ABLE TO SIT AT THE BAR. IT WAS REALLY FUCKING LOUD IN THERE. I TRIED TO ASK THEM TO TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN, BUT THERE WAS NO WAY ANYONE COULD HEAR MY WORDS OVER THAT CRAP THEY WERE BLASTING THROUGH THE SPEAKERS.

I'm not going to shout this entire entry, but I could.

In my rush to dramatize the loudness, I forgot to mention the beer.

Rogue Chocolate Stout!

Yay!

I went outside to call HatGirl, to tell her about the Rogue being on. Got her voicemail. Then I came back in and managed to use pantomime to let the bartender know that I would like a glass of Rogue Chocolate Stout, please. And turn down the fucking music, please.

I spent some time shouting back and forth with one of the PBDs. We weren't in an argument, it's just that we were all of two feet away from each other, so shouting was the only way we could be heard.

Did I mention that it was fucking loud?

Well, it was.

After a while, some dude left the throne so I picked up my shit and moved there. Then I went back outside to call HatGirl again to let her know about the Rogue being on tap. This time I got to talk to her. Maybe Friday she said.

I spent the remainder of the night there on the throne. I occasionally talked to some people sitting around me. I talked briefly to a couple of hot girls who I hadn't seen since June. I think I impressed them by remembering their names. I know they impressed me by remembering mine. But mostly I just sat back and enjoyed my Rogue Chocolate Stouts. I had three of them (1132).

Let's see, I did, at one point, see a blur that might have been MisunderstoodGirl, but if it was her she couldn't hear me over the damn music and so she didn't stop.

Then towards the end of the night WomanRepellant came in so I talked to him until they started kicking everyone out. Then I came home.

My sister Dina (Happy Birthday!) used to do this bullshit on Thanksgiving. It's been a couple of years though. Maybe she's stopped. Maybe she's given up.

I fucking hope so.

What she'd do is, she'd point a fucking camcorder at me and make me say what I'm thankful for.

Yeah, I know. Barf-o-rama.

The problem with this, besides how incredibly gay it was, was that no matter how many things or people I listed, I'd always leave someone or something out. That was my main problem with the whole thing - there was no way that, under such pressure, I'd ever be able to list everything and everyone that I was thankful for. I'd leave somebody or something out, and somebody would get upset.

Well, here it is, November 22nd. 2006. Thanksgiving Eve. I haven't written anything in days. I've been drinking.

I'm going to list the people that I'm thankful for.

But I'll just list the first three people.

There are more, to be sure, but these three are most obvious. The most deserving of my thanks.

These are in no particular order.

1. RockGirl. I don't even know where to start. I am more thankful for RockGirl than I am for the Sun continuing to rise and set. And that's not even close to how thankful I really am. I've said before that I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for RockGirl. People may think that's an exaggeration, but they're wrong. She healed me when everyone else would have given up and started covering me with dirt.

2. HatGirl. She takes my friendship without reservation. She ignores me when I'm too bold, and she accepts me unconditionally at all other times. She is adorable, and she is adored. There are simply no words that could adequately describe her. I'm a rambling fool most of the time, but when it comes to HatGirl I'm at a loss for words, and I've been at a loss for words for over a year.

3. MixedSignalGirl. She taught me how to be a person, though I had no desire to learn. She taught me how to love, though I thought I already knew. She taught me how to see the world through the eyes of another person, though I saw no need for that ability. She tore off my blinders, and forced me to look at the world I lived in.

These are the first three people that pop into my head when I wonder who I'm thankful for.

This is, to be perfectly honest, no great feat. Because these people are in my head most of the time anyway.

Didn't do a whole lot today. Worked for a few hours on a server that a coworker put into a coma yesterday. It's still nonresponsive.

I also went to the store and bought a turkey. Then I cooked it. This is something I usually do on the Sunday before Thanksgiving.

I figure there are two main goals to strive for when preparing and eating turkey:

1: Do not burn the house down.

2: Do not die from food poisoning.

So far so good. My house still stands. The food poisoning thing, well I guess I'll know by this time tomorrow.

I also got to talk to BadPickleGirl for an hour or so tonight. That was a very pleasant surprise. I have no idea why she calls my home number though. That ringer has been turned off for years. It was only because I happened to see the phone light up that I even knew that I had an incoming call.

BadPickleGirl is nice. I'll miss her when I'm in Las Vegas next week. I hope that doesn't freak her out.

Also, tonight I had myself an Avery The Beast (24). It was yummy.

Tomorrow I start another on-call rotation. That will suck I'm sure. This year I'm on-call for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and New Years Eve. I was actually on-call for July Fourth too, but I got a coworker to trade with me for that day because I was in Cleveland.

Anyway, it was nice to end my Sunday on a good note.

That's what everyone hollered when my sister Dina returned home last night.

Of course she already knew we were there. All the cars in the driveway and the front yard would have given it away, even if she hadn't already seen the party noted on someone's calendar.

But when she and Kenny pulled into the driveway, we turned off all the lights anyway. And we all hid in the kitchen anyway. And we all hollered surprise anyway.

It's the thought that counts, right?

The occasion was Dina's birthday party. The actual birthday isn't until Wednesday, but nobody wanted to get plastered on Thanksgiving eve, so the party was last night.

Most of the usual suspects were there, with the notable exceptions of my cousin Jeff, who apparently hasn't figured out how to use his voicemail, and BadPickleGirl, who was stuck at home with a sick child.

Yes, I was very disappointed that BadPickleGirl wasn't going to be there. I'd been looking forward to seeing her and talking with her. I'd also planned to introduce her to The Reverend.

Speaking of The Reverend, that's what my first beer was (202). I'd originally thought that it would be my only beer, but I drank it fairly quickly and surprised myself by wanting more.

I spent the first couple of hours inside the house watching Nick at Nite with some kids. The other adults were outside either freezing to death or huddled in front of Dina's fancy new outdoor fireplace.

Then my friend Eric's wife Teri came in, so I had someone to talk to. SpoonsGirl joined us inside for a while too. I got the number for SpoonsGirl's brother, VegasDude. Since I'll be there next week I may look him up.

Since Eric hadn't shown up yet, Teri was out of beer. And since I'd finished mine, I was out of beer. So we went on a beer run to this little store in Greenville. They actually had a few beers that looked interesting. I chose one that was new to me:

Blue Moon Winter Ale

(bottle) Clear bronze. Good head and lacing. I got hints of several spices and unusual flavors, most notably of vanilla. Very easy to drink. Very good.

By the time we got back to Dina's, Eric had shown up. So I had someone else to talk to.

Then at one point everybody went inside the house to play some game but Teri and I stayed out by the fireplace and talked for a couple of hours. I had a second bottle of the Blue Moon Winter Ale (24).

Oh yeah, I got to talk to HatGirl early in the evening. They were going to Buckhead's and she wanted to know if there were any good beers there. I told her that I hadn't been there in months, but that they'd always had at least one or two beers that weren't swill.

Then later on I texted HatGirl to see which beer(s) she'd chosen but she texted me back saying that they hadn't gone after all. They'd gone to Rich O's.

At around midnight or so the last of the party guests started leaving, and I came home.

The place isn't too crowded tonight. Little pockets of humanity are scattered about. I'm sitting at the bar. Alone, for now, though I doubt that good fortune will last.

Koningshoeven Tripel Trappist Ale

(bottle) Hazy dark gold, smallish head, some lacing. A nice clean aroma. The flavor is not too bad. A little musty for some reason. Given a choice between this and the quad, you should always take the quad. Always.

I'm in a strange mood.

This morning I realized that it was November 17th. This date is of no significance, but Tuesday, Tuesday sure should have been. Used to be. This year, I didn't even notice, and now it's too late.

But that's not why I'm in a strange mood.

I caught myself this afternoon hoping against something. Wishing that it wouldn't happen. But at the same time I knew, if it didn't happen, I knew that I'd be incredibly disappointed.

This struck me as weird, to not want something yet know I'd be bothered if I didn't get it. Like I said, weird, and that was something new for me. For the longest time, I'd say or feel or write crazy things, and they'd seem perfectly acceptable to me. I suppose that, at some level, with whatever tiny vestige of logical thought I still possessed, I knew that I was insane. But I didn't care, back then. Because, back then, I had no choice. So I saw my behavior as completely normal. Normal for me, anyway.

Then today, I caught myself thinking something crazy. And I realized that it was crazy. This just might be a sign of actual progress.

But that's not why I'm in a strange mood.

Anyway, at about this time WomanRepellant came in and joined me at the bar. I talked to him for a couple of hours. I had myself a yummy Koningshoeven Quadrupel Trappist Ale (71) and then a Guinness (1291). I texted NotHideousGirl a couple of times, to no avail. I sent an email to RockGirl. Then I came home.

I'm still in a strange mood.

I was on some beach somewhere with some friends of mine. At least in my dream they were friends. I wouldn't recognize them in real life.

One of the guys seemed a little bit slower than normal. Like he was slightly retarded or something. He'd come to the beach clutching an envelope, and we got to talking about it. Apparently he'd been on some television show, and they'd given him the envelope. It was his most prized possession, and he carried it everywhere. He carried it in his hand, not his pocket. He wanted people to ask him about it.

So we were talking about his envelope, and I asked to see it.

Opening it up, I found a card, like a greeting card, with some certificate of appreciation or some such on the left, and a glob of goo on the right. I asked my friend about the goo glob, and he said that there'd been a little pretty rock stuck there, but it had fallen out.

I told him that I could get him another rock. That I had one I'd gotten from SassyGirl's house. He said that rocks were stupid anyway.

Well I wasn't going to stand still for that.

I took my own rock out of my pocket, and I told him about all of the things that I'd gone through since I got my rock. All of the things that should have destroyed me, but didn't. I told him about how my rock had had a calming spell put on it, and that if not for my rock, I probably wouldn't be there sitting next to him.

My friend kept rolling his eyes with everything I said. There I was, telling him about all these painful experiences, and all he could do was roll his eyes in disbelief.

It pissed me off.

So I threw his precious envelope and card in the bonfire.

Fucking retard. What a jerk.

The title of this entry, I didn't make it up.

It was something said on the show Heroes tonight.

No, I'm not in the habit of getting my deepest thoughts from television. I just thought that it fit something that I'd been thinking about lately.

Because the thing about grief, as I see it anyway, the thing about grief is that once it hits you, it sticks with you. Grief swoops in and drives a stake through your heart. And then, it's just there. It's a part of you.

It's convenient.

And when you need something to liven up your otherwise dull and pointless life, grief is there. It doesn't need constant reassurance, the way happiness does. It doesn't need compromise and commitment and honesty, the way love does. It doesn't need to turn a blind eye to the selfishness of others, the way friendship does.

Grief is simply there with you, beside you, inside you. Fucking fused with you.

Two days ago I observed the anniversary of my father's death. Yesterday I visited his grave, and next to it, the grave of my mother.

What I realized, while I sat on the cold ground and stared at the even colder granite of their headstone, what I realized was that the grief was gone. The sadness was completely gone.

I was alone with myself, for the first time in a very very very long time.

I once wrote:

Sadness didn't sneak up on me, it exploded all over me. Something happened to make me this way. Is it unreasonable to want something equally dramatic to change things back?

One that I caused. Not the death of a person, but the death of a friendship. The erasure of a potential that my mind still cannot quite come to grips with.

And now, it never will.

Because that grief is gone as well. It was my anchor, holding me steady even as the waves of time smashed against me. It was my fortress, isolating me from the ravages of existence. It was my shield, protecting me from the monsters of living.

It was also my cage.

Yesterday I sat on the cold ground, talking to the ghosts of my parents. I talked to them about grief. And I realized that, everything I said, I said in the past tense. No matter how much I tried, I could not become sad. Not for losing them. Not for losing her. My grim companion had finally abandoned me.

So I stood up. I brushed the dirt and the leaves from my pants, and I came back home.

Alone.

Some things seem too powerful to just fade away. Some things deserve an exit that's every bit as grand and dramatic as their entrance. Some things should stick with you forever.

I feel like I've been robbed.