Okay, at what point am I allowed to be pissed at you without making myself seem like a jackass?

Hopefully, that point has already passed, because I'm pissed right now.

It's one thing to call me and arrange to meet me at the bar after work.

It's another thing to then not show up.

And then, then to not answer your fucking phone or return a voicemail - that's just fucking rude.

To do the all of the above like a dozen times in a row, well I don't have the words to describe it.

And, just when I start to get used to that mistreatment, you fucking find a new way to abuse me.

You call me and tell me that you're already there. That you're waiting for me. That you'll see me when I get there.

But noooooooooooooooo!

When I get there, you're nowhere to be found.

So I fucking call you to ask what's up.

Again.

And I leave a fucking voicemail.

Again.

And you fucking don't return it.

Again.

Remember, you're the one fucking calling me.

Anyway, while I was wasting my fucking time waiting for you to return my call, I had a beer that was new to me:

Rogue Altbier (5)

(draft) Looks like a brown ale, smells like an alt, but tastes like an IPA. Bitter flavor followed with a bitter finish. An Altbier is supposed to be balanced, dammit! A very disappointing beer from one of my favorite breweries.

After that, I had a half pint of yummy Rogue Smoke (170).

Look, I know that lately I've put too much stake in the actions of others. I know that I do that. But dammit, there are some people that I should be able to fucking count on.

I thought that you were one of those people.

You fucking called me.

Well that was nice. I'd expected to hear from her attorney before I ever heard from her.

---

I've got a cyst or a conjoined twin or something growing on the back of neck. It's actually impeding my ability to turn my head without pain. When this grows big enough to become self-aware I just hope it isn't a jerk.

---

Yesterday some guy at Rich O's that nobody ever saw before bought two DaveFest shirts. I made it a point to stop by his table and thank him for his support.

---

That's all I've got for now. Thought there'd be more, but nope.

Clicking the image should pop up a larger view, if you're really bored.

Okay, this is a little disjointed.

That field to the right of the highway - that's where I grew up. There used to be a house there. There used to be a lot of shit in that area that isn't there anymore, and there's a lot of new shit that wasn't there when I was growing up.

Anyway, I had my pillows and my sleeping bag, and I was camping right on the edge of the road in front of my old yard. The pillows that I had - I had three pillows with green pillowcases, which is weird because I only have one pillowcase like that in my house.

There was a kind of theme to what I was doing. "Roadside 'Blogging" or something equally nonsensical. I kept getting annoyed because passing cars would keep zooming by me without even slowing down. I kept thinking that I was going to get run over, and I didn't want to die in my sleep like that.

I was trying to get some sleep, but there were some kids across the street setting up for a concert or a huge party or something. Also, I was right near this drainage pipe (you can barely tell where it is in the picture) and there were rocks that were digging into my back.

So I gave up on sleeping, and I decided that I was thirsty and that I'd go to Polly's Freeze. Polly's is the building at the top of the picture. So I walked passed my grandmother's old house (center right of the picture) and I was almost to Polly's when I realized that it was only 10:00 or so, and that I could go to Rich O's and have a yummy Rogue Chocolate Stout instead.

I picked up a ladder and I started running back to my old yard, where I'd parked my truck. Some black guy came out of Mildred's house (on the left side of the road in the center of the picture) and he started hollering at me about something, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.

When I got back to my old yard, there was a big giant house that was being delivered. I couldn't get my truck out because the big giant house delivery had the driveway blocked. So I tried to drive my truck up the hill at the front of my old yard, but the hill was too steep and I flipped my truck.

Now, this damn dream was chock full of symbolism, and I think I get most of it. But the thing I really want to know is, What the fuck did the ladder have to do with anything?

These things were outside my window when I got up this morning. There were actually about twice this many. There was another adult and another half-dozen chicks.

The reason it's so out of focus is that I took this picture through the glass in my window, and the glass messed up my camera's auto-focus. By the time I figured out how to focus them, they were in the bushes.

I think they're turkeys, but that's just a guess.

One of the fringe benefits of taking a trip like the one I just took is that I'm given the opportunity to think. Actually, I'm forced to think. I don't have one of those fancy satellite radio thingies in my truck, nor do I have a working CD or cassette player. I don't really enjoy searching for radio stations only to have each one degrade into static after an hour or so.

So, I think.

...

Of course, the timing of this change sets off lights and buzzers in my head. Don't think that I haven't noticed the timing, because I have. I always notice the timing when it indicates that something might have something to do with you know who.

...

But I think it really goes deeper than that. This feeling that I have with me now, it's one of almost overwhelming disappointment. With everything in my life and with everyone in my life. I look forward to certain things, or to seeing certain people. I almost put my life on hold waiting for, I don't know, waiting for something that just isn't happening. I anticipate seeing my friends, and then they either don't show up or, when they do, it's just never enough to satisfy me.

...

This might be the most obvious thing ever, to anyone who's been reading me for any length of time, but I didn't really get it until today while I was driving through Ohio. I've completely lost sight of who I am.

I'm trying to see myself through other peoples' eyes, because I've lost the ability to see within my own head and my own heart. I no longer know what it is that motivates me. I don't even know if there's anything to know. It's like that old joke, I not only don't know anything, I don't even suspect anything.

...

And so, when the familiar fails me, I run to the unfamiliar. At least then I know that expectations are bullshit.

...

Plus, I can't help but think, every now and then, that somebody might notice that I'm gone, and maybe even wait for me to some back.

On Monday morning they must have declared some kind of ice shortage or something, because the ice machine, located conveniently across the hall from my room, was in constant use from about 6:10 in the morning until I left at around 9:00.

What I'd decided was that I'd go and try to find a Best Buy or something so I could buy a new power adapter for my laptop.

And that's just what I did. It took a long time to find a Best Buy though.

When I got back to my room, it hadn't been touched. Big surprise.

Monday afternoon, after I'd done a little writing, I walked down to this Cleveland ChopHouse and Brewery place that the cabbie from Sunday night had recommended.

With my very yummy sirloin and my kinda rubbery shrimp, I had a couple of beers:

Cleveland ChopHouse Stout (16)

(draft) Black with cream-colored head and incredible lacing. Flavor slanted a bit more towards coffee than chocolate. A decent beer.

Cleveland ChopHouse Saison de Chop (16)

(draft) Wow! Unexpectedly good. Extremely well-balanced and very refreshing. It also tasted like it had a higher ABV than it really does.

Then I went back to my room (still no maid service) and dicked around for a while before it was time to go to the Indians game.

It was a pretty good game. Indians vs. Yankees. I heard from somebody that it was the first time this season that Jacobs Field had been sold out. I believe this is because the Indians suck this year, but I'm really not sure.

Also, and maybe it was just the area where I was seated, but there seemed to be more Yankee fans than Indians fans at the game. That's kinda sad, I think.

As is my custom, I bought a cap and rooted for the home team.

The Indians actually won. I gathered that this was a surprise to everyone, especially the Indians.

After the game was over they had fireworks, but I wanted to beat the crowd so I high-tailed it down to the Winking Lizard and grabbed a seat at the bar. I had myself an Edmund Fitzgerald (144) and then I realized, quite suddenly, that I'd be leaving Cleveland in the morning. I decided that, no matter how yummy the Great Lakes porter was, I just had to try something else.

They have a pretty impressive beer menu. You can actually see it here if you want to play along at home.

The first choice was a no-brainer. I'd loved the Harpoon Winter Warmer so much, when I'd had it in Portland, that I just had to try their Hefeweizen.

Looking at the bottle, I should have known that something was wrong:

Look a little closer:

That's a fucking citrus wedge, right there on the bottle!

Well I told the bartender that I didn't want the damn fruit wedge, bottle artwork notwithstanding. I used my standard "I'm straight" line as an excuse.

Harpoon UFO Hefeweizen (12)

(bottle) Despite the name Hefeweizen, this is an American wheat beer. Despite that, I liked it anyway. There was none of the hop bitterness that I usually associate with this style. The thing tasted like a Belgian wheat, and it tasted good.

The next beer choice took a little longer. There was this banana beer on the menu that looked intriguing, but it was an awfully big bottle and there was no guarantee that it wouldn't be disgusting. So I chose instead the following:

Unibroue Blanche de Chambly (12)

(bottle) Although supposedly a Belgian wheat, this had much of the aroma and flavor of a German wheat. If I had to put a label on it, I'd say that is was a blend of those two excellent styles. A very good beer from what is becoming one of my favorite breweries.

During all this I spent most of the time talking to a couple of Clevelandites about various crap.

Then I walked back to my hotel.

The fucking bitch maid had not visited my room all fucking day.

After I tried to write some entries, I went to sleep, then I got up and made sure that the manager knew how lazy the maid was, then I drove home.

Yay!

I feel like I need to say something here, before I say anything else. One of the things that I really hate about traveling is having to work my schedule around the hotel's cleaning people.

On Sunday morning, I was gone from my room for about four hours. When I returned, my room hadn't been touched yet.

During my driving around I'd passed this Winking Lizard place that I'd remembered from my pre-trip research. It was close to the hotel, so I decided to walk. After I'd walked a couple of hundred yards, it started to sprinkle. After I'd walked another couple of block, it started to pour. By the time I got to the bar I was soaked to the bone. I guess this Winking Lizard place is pretty famous or something. They had a decent draft selection, and a very good bottled selection. What I did was have three Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgeralds (112) and some Cajun-spiced chicken tenders while I watched the Indians game on TV.

Here are a couple pics I took inside the place:

When it was time to leave, I went out front and bought a t-shirt, and took this picture of what I must assume is the bar's mascot:

Either that, or they have a really bad pest problem.

Oh yeah, there was a smoldering hot girl sitting at the next table. She had very thin straps holding her top up. I tried using my mental powers to unravel the straps, but it didn't work. Oh well.

So I walked back to my hotel room at about 5:00, and my room hadn't been touched. I grabbed my dirty towels and went out and tracked the lazy bitch down and traded for some clean towels. I also told her that I wouldn't be needing any additional service that day.

Then I took a nap. Then I watched Catwoman on TV. Halle Berry is hot, in case you've been living in a cave on Mars and didn't know yet.

We're up to Sunday night now. I took a cab to the Rock Bottom. While there, I bought a t-shirt from an improbably cute hostess, and I had some beers.

Rock Bottom Walleye Wheat (Cleveland) (16)

(draft) No detectable aroma, and not much flavor. I can't tell if this is an American or a German wheat. It's very bland, but still good.

Rock Bottom Riverbend Red (Cleveland) (16)

(draft) Looks and tastes like weak tea, but with the slightest hint of creamy caramel. Not too bad. If a beer like this is too much for you then you probably shouldn't be drinking beer..

Rock Bottom Dawg Pound Brown (Cleveland) (16)

(draft) Very dark brown - almost black, with a nice tan head. Very roasty and malty. Not sure that this should be called a brown ale, but whatever you want to call it, it's still good.

Then, once the bartender found out that I wasn't driving, he gave me this on the house:

Rock Bottom Le Flats Saison (Cleveland) (16)

(draft) Clear gold in color. Looks like a lager, so scary. The flavor is awesome. There are the typical apple undertones, but this is a lot thicker-tasting than most saisons I've had. Damn good. Yummy actually.

The place closed up early, because it was Sunday, so I went out and stole a cab from somebody who'd called for one but didn't get there in time.

I told the cabbie to take me back to my hotel, but about halfway there I changed my mind and had him take me to the Winking Lizard instead. While there I had a Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald (128) and got some chicken tenders to go, then walked the short distance back to my hotel.

Sunday morning I got up way too early. I dicked around the room for a while and watched some movie that I can't remember.

Then I went and got my truck and went driving around. I had no particular destination in mind - I mainly just wanted to see the lake.

Where I ended up was this Great Lakes Science Center thingy, which is a very cool interactive museum. It's mainly for kids I guess, and about 75% of the patrons were children, but it was fun for me too. I didn't take any pictures because if I had then there would have been kids in it and I didn't want to get arrested for anything I wasn't doing.

Oh, I guess I did take one picture. They had a giant turbine thingy outside the place:

The science center was cool, but it was actually pretty small. I was able to see every exhibit in about an hour, and that's even accounting for the time I spent explaining things to the ubiquitous kids.

Before I left, I went into the gift shop to browse for a while. At one point I came upon a stand of rocks. Rocks which were, in fact, very much like my own rock. Since my rock is always in my pocket, I became concerned that I'd get accused of shoplifting. But I didn't.

Next I went to this Edgewater Park place that the hot blonde bartender at Bier Markt had told me about. I took pictures.

There was an actual beach, which I wasn't expecting.

The lake was, of course, there. It was windy as fuck.

Here I was testing my camera's zoom on a lighthouse thingy.

They had a pier thing that I wanted to walk out on.

At the end of the pier I found a dead fish.

I really wanted to get on top of one of these things.

But I couldn't see how to do it. The birds have it easier.

There were also sailboats. Did I mention them before?

I took a picture back toward the city from the end of the pier. That blue Toyota pickup is mine.

Finally, I did another zoom test.

There were storms out on the lake, but I never got lucky enough to capture any lightning with my camera. It was windy as fuck though. A bad hair day for everyone.

The Bier markt was a weird place. It was, for one thing, huge. For another thing, it was empty. At least until 9:30 or so. Before that point there had been more bartenders working the place (2) than there were customers (1, my lovely self).

The draft selection was indeed impressive. I wrote them all down but I'm not going to bore you people by listing them all here. There were a half-dozen or so Belgians that I've never even heard of. I had two:

Ommegang Rare Vos (16)

Dark copper-colored, firm head. A neutral flavor, with perhaps a touch of apple. A very fizzy mouthfeel. A good beer. The aroma was a little perfumy.

Leffe Blonde (16)

Looks like a lager, so scary. Smells like unpeeled apples. OMG tastes fantastic! I may just cream. Fucking yummy.

So, I liked the Leffe okay.

I spend a good amount of time talking with the hot blonde bartender. Then I found out that she's only 22 years old. Seeing nothing handy with which to kill myself, I decided to hang in there. Who knows? Maybe her grandmother is available.

At about 9:40, the place became packed, and 90% of the customers were hot girls. I decided that I loved the Bier Markt.

Also, no matter what city I go to, no matter what bar I visit, no matter where at the bar I sit, I always end up having people hovering all over me while they order their beers. Must be my after-shave.

By 11:00, I was pretty well-lit, so I walked outside to look for a cab. I ended up talking with some Clevelandites out on the patio for a while. One chick wanted a DaveFest shirt, but the one I was wearing was the only one I'd brought with me. She ended up still wanting it. So I put on my Bier Markt shirt and sold her the DaveFest shirt. Then I went back to the hotel and crashed.