Still playing with CSS, I've made some of the letters that begin pages/sections stand out.

I thought this was a really good idea at first, but now I'm second-guessing myself.

I suppose I'll leave it like this for a while to see if I get used to it.

I wrote back in July that something had died in my Monte Carlo.

I tried several times to locate where the odor was coming from but I had no success.

Last night, feeling a little bored with myself and my life, I dedided to start driving the Monte Carlo more often. Sure, I'm trying to keep it as nice as I can, but I also get very little enjoyment out of it since I'm totally paranoid about door-dings and such. So I end up driving it one or twice avery couple of months, and I've put maybe 1000 miles on it since I inherited it.

Anyway, the smell of death is still in the air of my Monte Carlo. I think it's lessened over the past couple of months, but it's still noticeable.

I should probably start saving my money up to have the thing torn apart so the carcass of whatever it is can be removed.

I suppose I could say that last night was pivotal, but as this belief stems from a drunken realization instead of anything substantial, I'll probably just continue to wait and see. Perhaps I still have some common sense in reserve.

I arrived at Rich O's unfashionably early, having failed once again to decipher VigilanteGirl's flirtatious ramblings, and was surprised to see GeneralElectricGuy sitting in the living room area. I grabbed myself a Belhaven (very smooth and creamy on tap) and joined him and what turned out to be one of his coworkers.

I hadn't seen GeneralElectricGuy since the party last month, and I don't know him very well, but he seemed a little subdued. Later I guessed that this was simply because his friend CheeseGuy was doing enough talking for ten people.

The three of us talked about widely varying topics for a couple of hours, interrupted occasionally by TallLady trying to interject controversial topics into the mix. I finished my Belhaven and decided to try a Bell's Amber.

That was a waste of time. It sucked. Watery with orange peel flavoring.

So I went back to one of my favorites - a Piraat. Yummy but I knew it was way too early to be drinking the strong stuff. I'd have to pace myself.

At one point LaptopGirl joined us, and almost immediately declared that she'd be leaving after one beer. This makes twice in a row and so now I'm starting to get a little paranoid. This is also about the time I finished my Piraat and switched to Guinness.

CoffeeDude came in fairly late in the evening. This was quite cool because I hadn't seen him in over a month and I was actually becoming a little concerned. Everything's fine though - our schedules just haven't been overlapping.

Through all of this CheeseGuy kept up a steady stream of words, and once he and GeneralElectricGuy left the place seemed eerily silent. One pretty cool thing was that CheeseGuy paid my tab. I don't think that's ever happened before at Rich O's.

At one point NotGeorge came in and joined CoffeeDude and me in what was basically just sitting around sipping our beers.

I got home at about 11:30, realized that the thing which I've feared most may have come to pass, and spent the rest of the night staring at my ceiling.

When I first moved back to Indiana in 1998 I had a hell of a time finding a barber that wouldn't completely butcher my hair.

After maybe a year and a half of horrible haircuts given by perhaps a dozen different barbers I finally found a lady that cut it the way I wanted.

I told her then that at long as she could keep from butchering me she'd be the only person I would let cut my hair.

For nearly six years I've held to that promise, but lately I'm begun to question my resolve.

I'd guess that since March of this year, at least 50% of the trips I've made to my barber have been a complete waste of time.

She's been closed.

Today it happened again.

It's not like I'm showing up at the crack of dawn or on a holiday or right at closing time. I got there at 11:00 AM on a Friday. Every business in the world - except apparently my barber - is open at 11:00 AM on a Friday.

I really should have called first, but I didn't.

When you feel like you have to start calling businesses to see if they're open at 11:00 AM on a Friday it just may be time to find someone a little more consistent.

I just noticed that two days ago was the one-year anniversary of my starting this 'blog.

WooHoo.

Other anniversaries coming soon are 11/12(bad) and 11/14(good).

Today VigilanteGirl offered to give me a perm. As unlikely as that would be, even less likely would be her reasoning for giving me said perm.

"Because then you'd look hot," she said.

Maybe, in a dark enough room, to a drunk enough observer, while surrounded by lepers and zombies, I might at times be considered not ugly enough to scare children, but I'm enough of a realist to know that about the best I could ever hope for would be simply average.

Not really worth a second look, but also not worth gouging your eyes out to prevent accidental viewing.

Anyway, back to the hair. It's an interesting story. Okay, it's a story. Okay, I'm just killing time here.

Back in June I was in Las Vegas for a work thing. I may have mentioned the trip a couple of times in this 'blog, but one thing I didn't mention was what the hell was going on with my hair after I returned.

When I'm in a strange city like Las Vegas, where nobody knows me, I can afford to come out of my little protective shell a bit. I always figure that I'll never see any of these people again so what does it matter if I make an ass of myself.

Another thing is that it's kind of like taking a little vacation from myself, and I need those too as I can really be annoying sometimes.

During this last particular trip, fueled by Pyramid Tilted Kilt Ale, I dropped a line on one of the Rio's waitresses. Just a stupid line like you'd hear at just about any bar in the world, but this particular time it sort of worked.

By "sort of worked" I mean I didn't get slapped or laughed at. I got invited to go swimming.

After I'd quickly purchased, and changed into, the world's loudest swimtrunks and Hawaiian-style shirt, RioGirl and I went to the pool and soaked and talked for a couple of hours.

By the time RioGirl had to start work, my hair, toweled off but not combed at all, was completely dry. That's when RioGirl said the magic words.

"You should leave your hair like that. It looks good."

Never before had the words "good" and "hair" and "looks" been used to describe me before. I was sure she was joking.

When I got on the elevator to go up to my room (lucky 13013) I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror.

I looked like a completely different person. In my outrageous clothes and my snazzy new shades and with my fashionably mussed-up hair I looked quite hip and young.

For the next three days I went to my conference as my normal boring business-casual self, then at night I'd transform into YoungHipDude, minus the swimming gear but sporting towel-dried no-comb-shall-pass hair.

I felt that my hair looked really cool like that, and I decided to bring YoungHipDude back to Indiana with me.

Since my return I've never touched a comb or a blow dryer. The first time VigilanteGirl saw my mussed up hair was also the first time she ever said more than two words to me. I felt validated. I bought this gel shit that I smear in my hair, then when it dries I just use my fingers to soften it up.

As my hair grew out I've had a few haircuts since June, and I can no longer get the same look. I either look too scraggly or I look boring like I always have. I guess that the haircut I had just before my Vegas trip was some kind of magic haircut - one that was somehow perfect for the mussed up look - and now I'm back to normal haircuts that are only perfect for the straight-hanging short hair I've worn for years and years.

So that's the story of what's been going on with my hair.

Now stop asking.

Today I scheduled a couple of trips for work.

The first trip will be to San Antonio in a couple of weeks. I haven't been there since Basic Training in 1983. I'll try to make it to The Alamo and see what develops for any other non-conference activities.

The second trip is to Vegas, Baby!

I'll be there for a week at the end of November. I'm really looking forward to this one as I can always fill my nights with shows and fun.

Maybe I'll even get some of my favorite beer, Pyramid Tilted Kilt, while I'm there!

There are only a few things that really piss me off about other people.

Oh sure, I get annoyed a lot, but to really set me off you have to (a)treat people like shit, and (b)do it on purpose.

Once example of this is when you take for granted someone that you ostensibly care about, then whine and moan when they don't ask "How high?" every time you ask them to jump.

A little bit of attention can go a long way for people that don't have the highest self-esteem to begin with, and to ignore them until it's convenient for you, then to expect Pavlovian responses every time you ring a bell, is just flat out rude.

I watched this situation play out today for about the millionth time, and finally the mistreated person spoke up about it.

Yay for her.

Today I went and bought one of the new Sony dual-layer DVD burners.

My main goal with this purchase was to get a drive that would burn anything and since the new drive does indeed work I accomplished that goal.

The ability to burn to two layers is just a bonus, and not really much of one as blank dual-layer media costs about $10 each.

This morning I removed the stupid SP2 from my computer and surprise!

I can burn DVDs and CDs again.

Wait, scratch that.

I can now burn CDs again. DVDs now will not only not burn, they can't even be read by my drive.

Suspecting that SP2 had managed to irrecovably fubar my DVD burner, I went ahead and used goback to add SP2 back to the system, and decided to go out and buy a new DVD burner.