wan-ton
adj.
1. Immoral or unchaste; lewd.
2. Gratuitously cruel; merciless.
3. Unrestrainedly excessive: wanton extravagance; wanton depletion of oil reserves.
4. Luxuriant; overabundant: wanton tresses.
5. Frolicsome; playful.
6. Undisciplined; spoiled.

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

I kind of like this word of the day thing I've been doing in my 'blog. It really cuts down on the creative pressure.

Anyway, tonight several of the regulars were at Rich O's. Let's see, there was CoffeeDude, the dude from last night, LaptopGirl, MisunderstoodGirl, TrainGirl and RealTrainGirl, plus a couple of others that don't warrant special mention - except that one of them had a really hot girl in tow.

I had a pint of the Arcadia Ale, which was quite good. No, really, I liked it a lot. It's just too strong to safely have more than one.

Next I had a pint of SwithWick's (apparently the "W" is silent) and I liked it but after the Arcadia it tasted a little bland.

My next beer was a 2003 Alaskan Smoked Porter, and my last was a half-pint of NABC's Beak's Best ESB.

There were several conversations, but I don't feel like relaying any of them.

Just about the only thing I will point out, to those people reading this for social advice, is that every time a massage is given, at least one of the two people involved is having sexual thoughts about the other person. Perhaps some of you people should remember that the next time you decide to get rubbed down in a public place. For an hour and a half.

su-per-flu-ous
adj.
1. Being beyond what is required or sufficient.
2. Extra, spare.

First of all I cheated.

I went to Rich O's on Wednesday to get a pizza and was delighted to see that they had Smithwick's beer on tap. So I had one while I waited for my food to arrive. I didn't make a Wednesday Beer Report because the one is all I had.

Tonight I went back to have some more, and also to try another Scotch Ale they had on tap whose name I can't remember. Arcadia or something similar.

Anyway, I arrived at Rich O's, ordered a pint of Smithwick's, and sat in the living room area with LaptopGirl, some dude I didn't know, and BossyBitch and her husband.

The Smithwick's is a pretty good beer, though the watery/peaty characteristic I detected in Las Vegas seemed to be pretty elusive tonight.

After my first pint, I ordered a half-pint of the Cicada or whatever. I liked this beer, but I could tell immediately that it had at least twice the alcohol content of anything I felt like drinking.

Now this is the part of the report where I need to be careful what I write.

What followed was not the best night of my life.

LaptopGirl had been talking on and on about some band that I'd never heard of that was putting on a free concert in Louisville. Apparently someone had stood her up and now she was looking for someone to go with. She hinted pretty strongly to several people - none seemed interested - and finally asked the dude I didn't know to go with her. He agreed.

At some point - and I really don't know how this happened - it was decided that I'd go and do the driving. Right after agreeing to this I knew it was a bad idea, but I'd already said yes. I took the other guy aside and told him that I had no interest in being a third wheel and that he should feel free to tell me to butt the hell out. He assured me that there was nothing going on and that I was quite welcome to join them. What a dick.

Again, I have to be careful here. I don't know who reads this thing.

We went to see this band and arrived in time to hear two or three songs. The music I could live without but the bass player was fantastic.

Once the mini-concert was over I thought we'd be heading back to Rich O's.

Wrong.

The next four hours were pretty much the opposite of fun for me. I became invisible yet I couldn't leave because I was their ride. I didn't feel like I had a say in any decision as to what to do next. I was at the mercy of these two people who seemed much more interested in being out (and, dare I say, in each other, though I don't believe that interest was a romantic one) than in whether or not I was having a good time.

All I wanted to do was get back to Rich O's and salvage a normal Friday night, or failing that, to just get home.

After several aborted attempts to do something near the concert site we eventually ended up at some bar in Louisville where LaptopGirl and the guy had a couple of beers and I had one because LaptopGirl was buying and I really wanted to at least pretend like I was enjoying myself.

I spent the entire night feeling like I'd gone on a double-date but my own date had stood me up.

Two things kept the night from being a complete waste for me.

First, earlier at Rich O's BossyBitch had decided to try to lord it over LaptopGirl and they got into a little argument. Going to see the band and then to the bar helped LaptopGirl's mood immensely and I'm always glad to see her smile light up her face.

Second, after the concert we were walking with the crowd and I heard my name called out. My friend Eric and his wife had attended the same show. That was pretty cool - I go someplace I'd never normally go and run into one of my oldest friends.

Eventually my passengers decided that it was indeed time to return to New Albany. Rich O's was of course closed by then so I just came home.

On most occasions when I become invisble I can, and will, simply leave. Tonight I couldn't do that. I had to endure it for hours, and I'm quite sure that my displeasure was readily apparent to LaptopGirl and even to the guy I'd just met.

Hell, at one point I almost started babbling about things that I've managed to leave unsaid for months. Due in large part I'm sure to the overall lack of beer I'd had I was able to shut myself up before everyone got as uncomfortable as I was.

They both made several joking comments about how I would never want to hang out with them again. The unspoken part of those comments was the part where it'd be a cold day in hell before they'd ever invite me again.

Oh yeah, Note To Self: Try to not piss LaptopGirl off. She called the friend that had stood her up and pretty much went ballistic on him.

Another Note To Self: Do not, you dumbass, ever discuss anything remotely political with LaptopGirl again. She's too passionate about her beliefs and you'll end up, once again, being treated like you're the cause of all the world's problems simply because you don't share all those beliefs.

I watched LOTR:ROTK tonight and was once again wowed by Liv Tyler's beauty - pointy elven ears and all.

an-ti-ci-pa-tion
n.
1. The act of anticipating.
2. An expectation.
3. Foreknowledge, intuition, and presentiment.

ap-pre-hen-sion
n.
1. Fearful or uneasy anticipation or the future; dread.

re-ac-tion
n.
1. A response to a stimulus.
2. The state resulting from such a response.

ap-per-cep-tion
n.
1. Conscious perception with full awareness.
2. The process of understanding by which newly observed qualities of an object are related to past experience.

ac-cep-tance
n.
1. The act or process of accepting.
2. The state of being accepted or acceptable.

e-vo-lu-tion
n.
1. A gradual process in which something changes into a different and usually more complex or better form.

Here's a new image that didn't quite live up to the potential of its terrain. I may have to change the sky completely.

One of the neat things about my childhood was that my Mom's birthday often fell on Father's day.

That happened again this year, but with both of my parents gone it's just not as cool as it used to be.

My mom died in 1988, and my dad died 10 years later, both at way too early of an age.

Last Fall, on the 5th anniversary of my dad's death, I wrote a pretty lengthy entry about it.

I was planning to do the same thing this year, on June 20th, to say some nice things about my mom.

It's just too much.

I'll get to it eventually, but the thought of digging through memories that are over 15 years old just doesn't appeal to me right now.

I know Mom would understand. The last thing she'd want would be to have me sitting here at my computer getting sadder and sadder while dredging up all those old memories.

Thanks for understanding, Mom. And Happy Birthday.

Owah Tagee Kiyam.

Last week I was in Las Vegas for an IT storage conference. I attended the same conference at the same time last year.

During last year's trip I also did something that I thought was so cool I just had to share it.

The problem was that none of my friends or family would think it was cool at all.

They would think I was a geek.

So instead of telling people in person what I'd done I decided to start a weblog, and make my account of that experience the first entry.

Well one thing led to another and that entry never got made. My 'blog didn't get started until the Fall.

I will correct this injustice now, for that cool thing I did last year, I did it again last Thursday.

The cool thing I did was to shell out $29.95 for the main attraction at the Las Vegas Hilton - The Star Trek Experience.

Yes that's right. The Star Trek Experience.

Actually this year they'd added a second experience so I got to see something new as well as relive what I'd done the year before.

There's only one problem. Besides, I mean, the obvious social conclusions one might draw from reading about a person attending anything with "Star Trek" in the title.

Aside from that 900-pound gorilla named "Nerd" that everyone notices but pretends isn't there.

I was bored. What had been to exciting and new a year ago, this year for me at least, revealed itself to be what I should have known all along.

A geek festival.

The simulated motion parts of the attractions were very cool indeed, but they were so wrapped up in cheesy sets and wooden lines that even the actors couldn't take it seriously.

And forget about us tourists. We all seemed, for those 18 minutes or so, to finally understand how the rest of the world views us Star Trek fans.

Just about the way we ourselves view the Buffy fans.

Actually, "The Buffy Experience" sounds intriguing.

Mmmmm, Sarah Michelle Gellar.

But I ramble.

One of the questions always asked about a trip to Las Vegas is "Did you do any gambling?"

I got asked this question several times, and I answered in the affirmative.

Last Wednesday I arrived at Treasure Island a couple of hours before Mystere was scheduled to start, so after picking up my ticket I sat at a blackjack table.

In about 45 minutes I won $500 dollars, playing mostly $25 per hand.

Once a rowdy crowd took over my blackjack table I moved over to a $25 pai gow poker table and, while I didn't win at the same pace, I did win.

I ended up leaving TI with $640 more than I'd started with.

That was the only gambling I did all week. There was no way I was going to gamble at the Rio.

They'd given me room number 13013. If that's not a bad omen I don't know what is.

Regular readers may notice that I've added a new beer to my list of favorites. Obsessed readers will also notice that I've placed it first, before even my beloved Alaskan Amber.

Yes, I have a new favorite. The Pyramid Tilted Kilt ale I enjoyed so much in Las Vegas has unseated my favorite of over a decade.

Put an Alaskan Amber and a Tilted Kilt in front of me right now, and I'm going for the Alaskan. Put the same to beers in front of me in six months, however, and I'm pretty sure the Tilted Kilt is the one I'll be drinking first.

That's why I've ordered them the way I have.

It seems that every time I go back and re-read some of my 'blog entries I catch at least one - and sometimes several - spelling and grammar errors.

I go and correct these errors, knowing all along that I'll just find more in the future.

I'm not really this horrible at writing. I blame the fact that my brain often outpaces my fingers, and also that the spellchecker on my 'blog software is apparently for decoration only.