The hard part about writing this will be remembering what the fuck I had to drink.

But wait!

I wrote it all down!

So I guess the next hardest thing will be remembering who all showed up.

But wait!

There are pictures!

Maybe the hard part will be writing something that does justice to how much fun I had. Especially since I don't have much time to write anything. I've got to go to my sister's wedding reception before too long.

Oh, and I must buy cat food first.

For my cats, not for the reception. How white-trash do you think we are?

I took a day of vacation Friday, mainly to make sure that I could get my sleep schedule back on track, but also to play the new Half Life 2: Episode One game. I managed both feats, so it was worth it.

I left my house at about 5:30 and stopped by GasNStuff for some provisions.

VigilanteGirl was there!

Yay!

I hadn't seen her since she left for her new job, and I actually hadn't seen too much of her in the weeks before that. She's as pretty as ever. I invited her to DaveFest though I knew very well that she wouldn't come. It was nice to see her though.

Went to Wendy's for dinner, passing up the haunted Burger King because I didn't want my mood to be spoiled. Plus, I like Wendy's. So there.

I got to Rich O's very early for me, at a little after 6:00. My first evidence that this whole thing is real and not some kind of sick joke was the front door:

They probably scared some customers away with that sign.

The next evidence came in the form of the beer board:

The DaveFest beers are the ones with the logo next to their listings.

Finally, this is the sign that announced that the living room area was reserved for me and my group:

Now, having 10 of my favorite beers on tap at the same time presents a bit of a logistical problem. Especially when I start drinking before 7:00. I knew that I'd have to really pace myself if I was going to make it through the night. So I resolved to only have half-pints, and I also resolved to start out with the lower alcohol selections.

Accordingly, my first selection was a Two Brothers Domain DuPage French Style Country Ale (210), or "that frenchy beer" as I like to call it, just to save time. I hadn't had this in a couple of years. It was yummy of course. As good I remembered.

(to be continued)

Not too long ago, I'd have been sad because she wasn't there to share tonight with me.

But now I'm thinking that she's always with me.

She never went anywhere.

That was someone else.

Someone that I never knew at all.

Just a catalyst, actually.

With sparkling eyes.

You know what would have made my Friday night better than it was?

Me neither.

I'm very excited.

Slipping deeper into insanity than ever before - it's probably a really stupid reason to be excited.

But here I go anyway.

Smiling as I slide away from the truth.

Laughing as reality recedes into the distance.

Grinning from ear to ear as the happy lies loom larger and larger.

Wheeeeeeeee!

It's so dark tonight.

I like the dark.

In the darkness, I can see her.

The waxing Moon and the cloudy skies press down upon me, and I shiver.

My soul reaches out for warmth, and it finds her.

I wish that this night would never end.

It's perfect.

I guess the stress is part of the fun, too.

I'm not really sure how to break this to you.

I guess I'll just come out and say it.

The DaveFest shirts aren't going to be ready for at least a week.

Now, calm down please. The Sun will still rise and set tomorrow. It will probably continue to do so this weekend when DaveFest begins on schedule.

So, after several emails, I think I've got the quantities correct. For the initial order anyway. Any subsequent orders will, quite frankly, be a pain in the ass and I can't guarantee that they'll even happen.

I'm disappointed, of course. I was really looking forward to seeing my likeness adorn the chests of friends and strangers alike this weekend. It would have been surreal and sublime.

But alas, it's not meant to be. Not just yet.

I'm told that the shirts will be ready by next Friday, in time for the final wave of DaveFest when the Rogue beers go on tap.

For those of you holding non-refundable tickets to Louisville for this weekend, let me apologize. Let me also assure you that the trip will still be worthwhile. In the end, it's really about the beer.

In silent protest of this atrocity, my beautiful female readers should feel free to attend the festival shirtless.

Right now I want to write something, but that thing which I want to write, or at least that thing which I think I want to write - it continues to evade me.

I do catch glimpses of it every now and then, though. Fleeting flashes of something that, if I could just get a good look, I know would be worthy of a great entry.

Great being relative, of course. You have to consider the source.

I've learned, or been reminded of, some very important lessons over this past week or so. I've done a lot of soul-searching. I've done more than my fair share of feeling sorry for myself. I've drank a lot of beer.

Whatever it is that I'm doing, it's not working. Whatever it is that I'm trying to accomplish here in this life, on this planet, it eludes me. Whatever it is that I'm looking to get out of all of this, it's just not happening.

I need to learn to deal with these failures, and I'm really trying to do just that. But it's hard to truly allow myself to cope with this disappointment when I'm not even sure what I'm disappointed with. It's like I walk through life wearing shoes that just don't quite fit.

I think that I'm pretty good at putting myself into another person's position. Understanding their motives and their desires. I don't always like what this empathy shows me, but each bit of understanding brings with it a speck of compassion. It cannot be helped. The two go hand-in-hand.

The problem is, the problem is that I've become so focused on trying to decipher and understand the motives and feelings of certain others, I've lost touch with my own inner workings.

I don't know what it is that I want. I just know that what I have is not it.

So I reach out blindly and I reflexively close my fingers around anything and everything I can touch. I pull my hand close to my face and I open my fingers and I look at my prize and I wonder Is this what I've been missing?

Random chance may eventually give me what I want, but it hasn't happened yet.

Maybe I should try something else.

Maybe I should give up.

This is drivel, I know.

There's no point to this entry, and if you've read this far hoping for one, then I apologize.

I guess I'm just in shock.

I understand that much at least.

Well that last entry was clearly crap.

Oh well. Can't be helped now. Google has it in its grasp.

So, in an effort to show some semblance of normality, I present this entry.

I've used that line, or one very similar to it, at least three times now. I like the way it reads. Makes it seem like something important may be coming. Kind of like when a woman says, "Oh, this old thing? I just threw something on." And then she looks totally hot and stuff.

Not. This. Time.

Anyway, yesterday started out okay.

I watched the first twelve hours or so of the 24 first season DVDs. I'd forgotten what an asshole Tony was in the beginning, and what a useless brat Kim was. It's a good show.

Kiefer Sutherland is cool as fuck.

At 4:00 or so I drove to the other side of the Moon, otherwise known as Salem Indiana, to feed my sister's cats. I forget where she went. Some Renaissance Faire I think.

My sister Neisha has a shitload of cats. I can use that word in its slang sense as well as its literal one, the latter because when you get that many cats sharing a single litterbox it's - well, it's a shitload.

She's got one new kitten that might be a bit of an asshole, but it's a kitten so it's cute. It was also one of the only cats that didn't seem to be scared of me. Even E-Coli or whatever his name is seemed skittish about me being there. That cat used to just love me, and would happily shred the skin on my forearms at the slightest provocation.

Oh yeah, and Gleelore was also glad to see me.

After I'd cleaned the litter box, I spent a few fruitless minutes trying to decipher Neisha's feeding instructions. In the end I just kept dumping food into plates and making sure that all of the cats got something to eat. This turned out to be no small feat, because the kitten was, as I said, a bit of an asshole.

After I left Neisha's I drove to my other sister's house. Dina was, for some reason that I cannot quite fathom, hosting a graduation party for the son of a friend. This would be Hell for me, as the only thing I can think of that would be more annoying than a bunch of screaming teenagers would be a bunch of screaming teenagers that I never saw before in my life.

But, Dina has always been the hostess of our little group. Plus, she's got a pool.

But I didn't go to Dina's for the party.

I went to see her new kitten.

It's a tiny thing, only a few weeks old. Its mother abandoned it, and all of its siblings died. I hope this one grows to be big and strong because Dina is obviously quite attached to it already.

Also at the party were a bunch of people, some that I knew, and some that I didn't. I left fairly quickly as I had a date.

---

After my date disintegrated, I was left alone at The Pub in Louisville's Fourth Street Live district. I guess I could have gone home, but a part of me was thinking that the whole episode might have been some kind of sick joke. I half-expected Allen Funt and MixedSignalGirl to walk in and point out the hidden cameras and then everybody would have a good laugh.

Is Allen Funt even alive anymore?

So I stayed. I stayed and I had myself a couple of yummy Newcastles (1980). I would have had another one except the bartender told me that I was better off and that, "That girl isn't that pretty anyway." So I left her a $.01 tip and went next door to The Hard Rock.

At The Hard Rock, I had myself a Guinness (1239) in a souvenir glass, and I watched videos for a while, then I came home.

---

I did try to call her. I got voicemail.

I tried again this morning. I got voicemail.

I won't try again.

Something has happened.

Something most decidedly not good.

I sit here today trying not to think about this choice that I've been given. Not that it's much of a choice. I already know what my decision is. I only had to think about it for maybe two seconds after it was presented to me.

I know what I'll do. I'll do what's right. Not right for me, and not right for her, and not right for us. But what's right nonetheless.

So, I said the words.

I said the words and it wasn't enough. She wanted proof.

I cannot prove that I love her. Not the way she wants.

But I can, I can prove something else.

I can prove that, at my core, I am a good person.

She should have already known that.

She shouldn't need proof.