Went and picked up a couple bottles of Blue Moon Belgian White so I could do a proper tasting.

Blue Moon Belgian White

(bottle) A commonly-available beer that I put off drinking simply because of its availability - reasoning that something so widely accepted must be bland and boring. I was quite wrong (see Newcastle for another example of my flawed logic). This is a very nice beer that went down very easily. I think I could drink it all night, and that's not something I could say about most Belgians.

Also had the De Dolle Ara Bier that I had in my 'fridge.

De Dole Ara Bier

(bottle) Pouring this into a glass resulted in about a 5/1 head/beer ratio. I actually lost patience waiting for the head to dissipate and ended up disrupting it with my finger. Once I got to the actual beer I really enjoyed it. A little lighter in both flavor and ABV than other Belgians I've enjoyed, so more suitable as a session beer. Black flecks that settled to the bottom of my glass turned me off a little.

Finally, one more from De Dolle:

De Dole Boskeun

(bottle) Fizzy, hazy orange. Citrus undertones that I didn't care for at all. MIght be okay on a hot Summer day. My least favorite from this otherwise wonderful brewery.

(I just corrected a typo in this entry. I'd had the word Belgina instead of Belgian in the first sentence. Belgina, what a lovely name that would be for the daughter of a beer lover such as I.)

(Yes, I'm kidding.)

A little bit different tonight.

Rich O's was my second stop. My first stop will remain private.

Anyway, at Rich O's I had an NABC Tunnel Vision, a Hitachino ricey beer (can't remember the name, but I find it oddly appealing) and finally a Gulden Draak.

Rich O's was moderately crowded but I was able to grab a seat at the bar before my second beer.

One of my friends is in a band, and they were playing a gig at this dive down by the river so I went there. MisunderstoodGirl and OddlyPrettyGirl came in a little after I did and joined me.

One of my friends being all dainty and ladylike and shit.

My friend Tim rockin' away.

While there, I tried my very first Blue Moon Belgian Ale. I actually liked it a lot, but my taste buds were a little overworked from my earlier beers so I'll hold off on doing an official review until another day.

I'm home fairly early because the place where I've been going to listen to karaoke was mysteriously closed.

Friday night Bob and I spent an hour or so at the hotel bar doing some final reminiscing before he returns to Arizona. I had a couple of the BBC porters and Bob drank MGD for some reason.

I want to state again, for the record, that it was very cool to see my old friend again. We'd kind of drifted apart a little during his last days in Omaha, and of course there'd been no contact for 14 years after that, but Bob was a big part of what may very well turn out to have been the best years of my life, and that little blast from the past that seeing him brought was very refreshing.

After I left the hotel, and took care of a little drama that's been developing nearer to home, I went to Rich O's and had myself an Upland Winter Warmer. Rich O's was only about half full at that late hour. I waved at GlassesGirl and sat on the throne, then talked with GrammarLady and her husband for a while.

GrammarLady told me that she'd never seen me looking so worn down and with such dark circles under my eyes. Gee thanks, GrammarLady. Just the pick-me-up I wanted.

Once my companions left I spent a few fruitless minutes trying to make eye contact with RealTrainGirl or MisunderstoodGirl, but they were, shall we say, busy.

Stopped at the karaoke bar on the way home. I'm finding it to be a nice way to end out an evening.

Several years ago I drove from Seattle to Las Vegas to see some friends that were playing in a pool tournament. The drive through Nevada on that hot August day consisted of seemingly endless stretches of flat highway, punctuated only by an occasional mountain range.

I'd get a kind of highway hypnosis on those flat stretches, and my car would often ease up to over a hundred before I'd catch it and let off the gas.

When I'd arrive at the hills, there'd be several minutes of interesting scenery, and there'd be a timid, almost undetectable curiosity about what would lie beyond the hills.

It was always the same - another long stretch of blacktop, with another range far in the distance.

To cross one range, and see before me nothing at all between me and the next range, to know that the next hour or so of my life would mean nothing and would contain nothing of interest - that's a pretty good analogy for what's going through my head this morning.

Except that instead of an hour, sometimes I feel like I can see the next forty years. And instead of hills in the distance, there's nothing.

I think I need another vacation. I know what I need to do in order to break out of this rut.

I need to get off this road, shift my truck into four wheel drive, and go tearing across the desert. I need to risk something, break something, fix something, do something. I need to take a fucking chance, and steer toward a different horizon.

Here are some of the pictures that have accumulated in my camera phone over the past few days.

Some strangers at Rich O's

More strangers.

The way I wish it would look, sort of.

My old friend Bob from my Omaha days.

This bartender at Rich O's is camera-shy.

So is this one.

This glass has a cartoon of a pig flossing its ass with a towel.

Please come see me. I need to talk to you.

That's what the text message said. No contact from MixedSignalGirl for a week and now this. A little ominous if you ask me.

So I left the tournament site (I was a little bored anyway) and drove back to Indiana where, of course, she was nowhere to be found. Two attempted phone calls only got me a recording saying that her voicemail was full. So I sent a text message and went to Rich O's.

I walked in and immediately turned around and walked back to my truck. The crowd was unbearable, and since the tournament site has been so crowded I really felt the need for some space around me.

Once I got back to my truck, though, I realized what a baby I was being so I went back in and ordered a Delirium Tremens. The strangers sitting at the island left and I grabbed a perch.

I spent a good part of the night sitting there checking out the various cute brunettes in glasses - there must be a convention in town somewhere, and after a while CoffeeDude showed up and joined me and some dude I don't know.

I had an Upland Winter Warmer and asked the bartender to put an Alaskan Smoked Porter on ice for me.

Yawn. After a while we grabbed seats in the living room area and I got to talking with some guy about computer storage. Very exciting stuff.

Once I had finished my porter (yummy) I tried MixedSignalGirl one more time (still full voicemail) and came home.

Thursday was sort of the last night of my vacation. Tonight it reverts to just a regular weekend. Man it will suck to have to put a suit on again.

(response to message)

Yes, that's the guy. E-mail me with your contact information if you'd like me to pass it along.

(response to message)

I never got that impression (the second term) from you at all.

(Update: The definition given by the quiz people is not the definition I learned in school. I retract my statement above.)

(Second update: All may not be as it seems. I'm thoroughly confused now. This is in opposition to all the other times when I'm only partially confused. This would be a pretty big coincidence, I have to admit.)

(Third update: A coincidence it is then. As penance for my invalid assumption I will hum It's a small world after all for one hour.)

What if, as the movie title suggests, this really is as good as it gets?

What if I've met the love of my life and I've let her slip through my fingers? What if I never have another friend that I trust implicitly? What if the best years of my life are truly behind me?

Can I survive for another forty years looking backwards?