I was thinking today about eyes.

I love eyes. I love how they're the window to the soul.

There's just something primal about looking into the eyes of another living being.

Look a wild animal in the eyes, and it will either run away, or it will attack.

Look a child in the eyes, and some of their innocence and enthusiasm crosses over to you.

Look into the eyes of the one you love, but use caution, because you may not like what you see. Sometimes, that affection that you see, it's nothing more than your own feelings, being reflected back at you. Sometimes those feelings you glimpse are nothing more than pity or concern or even fear, twisted into something that's not really there, an illusion born of your own desperation. Sometimes, though they seem to be looking at you, their eyes are in fact focused a million miles away.

But every now and then...

If you're lucky...

Sometimes you meet the gaze of the one you love and what you see in their eyes, it combines with what they see in your eyes. It multiplies. Like feedback from a microphone placed to close to a speaker, it quickly overwhelms you with its intensity. You each feed off the emotions of the other, and for every moment that your eyes are locked together, your bond becomes stronger. You get lost, but it's okay because there's someone there with you, sharing it all with you. You're where you want to be. In their eyes. You never want to leave.

I love eyes. I love how they're the window to the soul.

All of the times I think about her, I think about holding her hand more often than I think about anything else. It was like we were separate, but when we held hands some circuit was completed and the energy within each of us became our energy instead. There's just something sweet about holding hands.

As a child, we hold our parents' hands, and it makes us feel safe and loved.

As we get a little older and enter grade school, holding hands is that first timid step towards romance, even when we're too young to know what romance is, and would be grossed out if we ever discovered the disgusting truth about what hand holding can lead to.

Older still, and hand holding is often replaced with making out, sex, and all of the other "adult" activities. Holding someone's hand seems to become a burden, an intrusion into our personal space. Besides, it's what kids do.

Then, at the end of our lives, if we're lucky, we find ourselves sitting on a porch with some special person who's shared their life with us, holding hands. It makes us feel safe and loved.

We spend our entire lives reaching out. Every now and then two people will reach out at the same time, and their hands will find each other.

When I think about her, I miss just about everything. But holding her hand, I miss that most of all.

Walking into Rich O's last night, I did my normal survey.

Hot girls in the front area? Check, check, check, check.

Hot girl on the sofa? Check.

Hot girls at the island? Check and check.

Hot girl on the loveseat? Check

Wait a minute.

Where the fuck was I? This couldn't be Rich O's. Doesn't Roger have some kind of rule about hot girls? Oh, I guess it is Rich O's, because there's SuperShitHead being all supershitheady over at the stand-up bar.

I thought for a second about grabbing the throne, but the hot girls in that area were with guys, so I sat at the bar and turned sideways so I had a view of the whole room. I had myself a Bell's Kalamazoo Stout (125).

There was this very LOUD 200-year-old man at the bar, and I almost immediately regretted my seating choice. I was contemplating the throne again when SpikeBoy came in and grabbed the seat next to me.

I showed him my rock, and we talked about what a douchebag SuperShitHead was, and we went ahead and divvied up the hot girls in the place. I got dibs on the brunettes and SpikeBoy got everyone else.

I'd just finished striking up a cooperative wingman deal with SpikeBoy. He could have first shot at every girl that ever came in except for two. First was LaptopGirl, and second was HatGirl. This struck SpikeBoy as a perfectly fine arrangement because like he'd ever have a chance with either of those girls anyway. In return for my generosity, SpikeBoy agreed to immediately call me if either of those two girls ever stepped foot in Rich O's again.

Eventually the couple on the sofa got up and left, so we grabbed our shit and moved over there. I sat on the sofa and looked across the coffee table into the eyes of... HatGirl.

She'd been sitting there the whole time, I'd checked her off when I first came in and did my site survey, but I hadn't recognized her without her hat. This isn't the first time this has happened either.

Of course she was with her boyfriend, who I like to call LuckyFucker. Doesn't seem like a bad guy actually. I ended up talking with him and HatGirl for the rest of the night.

I showed her my rock.

After a bit, I moved to the throne because (a) the couch is in really bad shape and (b) having HatGirl directly in front of me was a little disconcerting.

I had another Bell's Kalamazoo Stout (145).

Eventually HatGirl and LuckyFucker went home. SpikeBoy had already left, so I was left alone again. I had a half-pint of Guinness (954) and left at about 10:30.

This proved to be a bad time to leave, because VigilanteGirl was still working at Gas-N-Stuff. She grouchily denied being grouchy lately. And grouchily accused me of being grouchy.

Whatever. Grouch.

The other day I crossed a line.

Actually I crossed it, and then hung out on the other side for a while, then finally realized where I was and jumped back to the other side.

That there is called a metaphor. I use them a lot. Some of my readers don't seem to get the concept. Perhaps they should find a less challenging 'blog to read.

The truth is - there was no actual line. What actually happened is that I went from whining about certain things to whining about certain other things, and the latter things were things that I'd never whined about before. They were things that no halfway self-respecting person would ever whine about in public.

I whined about them. In public. In this 'blog. So, in metaphorical terms, I crossed the line.

The pansy line.

What happened was, I was writing about how I was irritated with certain things, and the next thing I knew, I was actually listing those things. This was wrong. I should not have done this. For those of you that saw me, standing there like a dork on the other side of the line, and for those of you that felt uncomfortable seeing me there, wondering if I was there because of you, I apologize.

So my hiatus ended about a day earlier I'd thought it would. I'd expected to last until Sunday morning, but before I'd even fully awakened on Saturday I found myself typing away.

This was nothing, this little break I took. But a few people noticed that I was gone. For those of you that offered your help, thank you. For those of you that didn't seem able to deal with my silence, get a life. And for those of you that took the opportunity to chastise and belittle me for showing an actual human side of my personality, fuck off and die slowly and painfully.

I almost didn't go out last night. Not because I didn't feel like going out, but because I took a nap after work and didn't wake up until almost 9:00. Much later and I'd probably just have stayed home.

But I really did want to go out. I wanted to take my rock to Rich O's. So that's what I did.

The front area was very crowded. It was full of sk8tr bois and other assorted idiots. This did not bode well for what Rich O's proper would be like, so I was pleasantly surprised to see the entire living room area open.

I sat at the throne and ordered a Great Lakes Christmas Ale (120). I'd only had about two sips of the beer when DeadLady and her son/boyfriend came in and sat on the loveseat. So I grabbed my shit and moved over to the island.

After a while, WomanRepellant came in and joined me. We bullshitted for a while. I had a Corsendonk Christmas Ale (50) which was quite yummy and WomanRepellant and I made fun of all of the strangers that had suddenly taken over the living room area. I'm glad I'd moved when I did.

At one point Bubbles came in so I went over and showed her my rock.

Yes, the night really was as boring as I'm making it out to be.

Contemplating what my last beer would be, I told the bartender that I wished that the Bell's Kalamazoo Stout was on tap. He pointed out that it was indeed back. Yay!

So I had a half-pint of the Bell's Kalamazoo Stout (105). Yummy.

That was it for me. That Corsendonk is like a time bomb or something, so I got out of there before it went off. I stopped at this little bar on the way home, hoping to talk with VigilanteGirl, but she was busy with some trivia game, so I just listened to some karaoke and had a Diet Coke, then I came home.

Stolen from cawfee.

People who annoy me:
1. Sk8tr Bois
2. Idiots
3. Cock teasers
4. Ass kissers
5. Corona drinkers

Places that annoy me:
1. Anyplace with a long line
2. Bars without good beer
3. Anyplace you have to dress up
4. Places where you're expected to interact with other people
5. Crowded places

Things that annoy me:
1. Other peoples' kids
2. Long lines
3. Cold weather without snow
4. Specials on piss beer but none on good beer
5. People who dial the wrong number and then just hang up

Personal annoyances:
1. Moodiness
2. Being a dick to people who don't deserve it
3. Opening up when I know it's a waste of time
4. Holding grudges for years and years
5. Being unable to let go

So I have this rock now.

I'm very excited to have this rock. I keep it in my pocket. It's the first one I've ever had.

Nobody else seems to understand, but that's okay. Maybe, unless someone has their own rock, they can't understand.

I'm just going to repost this entry that I made back in September. I'm not sure why. I guess because I found out that someone smiled tonight, and I think's it's been a while since she's smiled. It reminded me of this girl from the bar:

So there's this one chick, a semi-regular at Rich O's, who is perhaps the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Note, please, that I said seen and not known. Or even met.

She's maybe little too stocky. She's perhaps little bit on the "cuddly" side of slender. She's possibly a little bit bottom-heavy. Her hairstyle is a crew-cut, of all things. A girl that you might not notice at all, and if you did you'd probably figure she was a carpet muncher. In other words, a completely normal person for Rich O's. You probably wouldn't give her a second glance if you weren't a lesbian yourself.

Unless you got lucky, as I did when I first saw her. Unless you got lucky enough to see her smile.

This girl is possessed of what TallLady once called "Good bone structure." That's how she pulls off the crew-cut. So she is pretty, in a generic and unremarkable way.

Until she smiles.

When she smiles, angels in heaven claw their own eyes out because they cannot bear the beauty that's revealed.

When she smiles, flowers close their petals, and butterflies ground themselves, and sunsets halt their progress. They all know that they cannot compete, so they do not even try.

Her smile lights up a gloomy room the way a lighthouse does a rocky coast. It shows everyone that there is an unthreatening path, that there is a safe harbor, that there is something worthwhile at the end of the voyage. Whatever that voyage may be.

I don't know this girl at all. I talked to her for the first time tonight. I said something funny, and I made her smile.

That right there, that I could, if only for a moment, bring such beauty into the world, that should be enough to carry me for quite a while.

(I've deleted a bunch of whiny crybaby bullshit.)

I need a break from this. Probably just a couple of days. I doubt that I'd last much longer than that.

Until then, some of you know where to find me.

You don't see very many after work beer reports from me for a few reasons.

First, I kind of stopped going to the haunted bar after work.

Second, I hardly ever try anything unusual or new after work.

Third, I'm lazy.

Fouth, nobody cares anyway.

Well today I went to Rich O's after work. I went because I'm subscribed to this e-mail thingy that the owner sends out, and the e-mail thingy I got Monday promised a certain beer. I went, and I had some of the beer. I even updated the official description on my beer page:

Great Lakes Christmas Ale (80)

Another winner from this excellent brewery. Very complex but well balanced. Starts out sweet, followed by a surprising bit of cinnamon heat at the end. Nothing overpowering. Yummy.