1. On the way home last night, I stopped at a gas station for some Diet Pepsi. Sitting at a gas pump, about to leave, was BadPickleGirl.

What made this weird was that I never, ever, recognize BadPickleGirl right away. It's always that my hot girl radar goes off, and then I look over at her, and then it takes a few seconds before I realize it's BadPickleGirl.

Anyway, she gave me my two beer glasses back, so yay!

2. I was out on my swing last night emailing this chick from JS. I managed to get into a very bad mood because I wanted to be emailing you-know-who, but that didn't seem to be an option.

What made emailing the JS chick weird was that, after a couple of hours, she confessed that she'd been naked for like two hours while emailing me. I think she was trying to cheer me up, and it might have worked if my imagination worked better than it does.

And now the JS chick has a new nickname, and it's NakedGirl. I hope she likes it.

Those are supposedly monkeys. Giant inflatable albino monkeys. In blackface, for some strange reason.

I'm told they're supposed to be art, and that they're affiliated with the 21C museum/hotel across the street.

I don't know whether giant inflatable albino monkeys in blackface are art or not. What I do know is that (a) They seem kinda rascist to me, and (b) That's a busy interstate highway behind them, and (c) If I were driving down the highway and saw giant inflatable albino monkeys in blackface, I might just cause a 50-car pileup.

Maybe that's where the art would really be.

Why is it beforehand and afterwards?

Why not beforewards?

Or afterhand?

I feel like I'm missing something here.

I had this idea for an entry last night, right about when I went to bed. Usually, when I have these late-night ideas, one of two things will happen. Either I'll get up and type up some quick notes to myself, or I'll fall asleep and then not remember anything in the morning.

Well, last night I did consider getting up and typing some notes. But my computer was all the way down at the other end of the hallway, so I just stayed in bed and went to sleep.

Imagine my surprise when, this morning at the crack of 10:30, I awoke with that same idea still rattling around in my head.

Now all I've got to do is figure out if I should write the thing.

It's kind of a two-parter, I think. The first part I could probably get away with, except for the fact that the first part leads quite obviously to the second part.

It's like a movie or a book that ends in a cliffhanger. You just know there's going to be a sequel, and you hope it doesn't suck.

This particular sequel, while it probably wouldn't suck, would almost definitely be taboo. Unless I can dress it up in metaphors so as to make it unrecognizable to anyone but me.

I need to think about this some more.

Beforehand, I drove.

Specifically, I drove to Indianapolis. See, there's this guitar doohickey that I want. MusicalYuppieDude has been telling me for months that he'll give me one for free, but it's never happened. So I found one on the internet. And today I drove to the closest store that carries them.

Well, I drove to Indianapolis to buy the doohickey, and the stupid store is closed on Sunday. So, I drove back home.

---

Afterwards, I drank a little.

After dinner, I went to the bar at Sam's. I talked briefly with MusicalYuppieDude (should have told him about my trip to Indy) and PhotoDude, then they left and I sat at the bar and had a Blue Moon (817).

Next, I went to Sluttopia and had a Newcastle (10676) before coming home.

---

The beforehand and the afterwards weren't as much fun as the during.

The first time was Friday. I've already mentioned how those particular plans fell apart as quickly as they'd been made. Too many things to do, in too short of a time period. I fell short.

The second time was Saturday night. Those plans never really had a chance to form. It became too late before it ever really became feasible.

Tonight was the third time.

So, I missed her. I wanted to see her.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel those things, or write those things.

The feeling them part is involuntary and constant. May as well ask me to stop breathing.

The part about writing about those things is a little different. But I feel like I gave up a huge chunk of my dignity, a couple of months ago, to give myself the right to express those feelings without them being greeted with shock or outrage.

Anyway, like I said, tonight was the third time.

And, as the saying goes, third time's a charm.

It was really nice.

After I went back to Polly's to get Happy his milkshake, I took a fairly long nap. See, there was a .000427% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, and I wanted to be refreshed.

Then at 7:30 or so I went to Rich O's.

It was pretty crowded, mostly with strangers. I ordered a Marzen (5133) and stood at the end of the bar for a while. TremensGirl was there, in an actual dress. That's why I didn't recognize her at first. Also, StoreGirl and her husband NotBill were there. I hadn't seen them in a very long time.

After a while some dorks left the bar so I went and sat there. I had a little pizza. TremensGirl offered me the throne but I declined. There's a limit to my sociability, and there was this one dipshit on the sofa who is way beyond that limit.

Anyway, these two drunk old women came in and sat at the kiddie table. I'd guess they were between 50 and 150 years old. Hard to tell as they were both made up like prostitutes. As luck would have it, they both immediately started trying to engage me in conversation, so I picked up my shit and moved to the recently-vacated island.

What happened next was that StoreGirl and NotBill came over and joined me, and for some reason they invited the old women over as well.

Grrrr.

So our new "friends" managed to slur out that they'd both just gotten divorced, and that they were looking for a good time. I shivered for about 10 minutes and then managed to shoot off a couple of flares in the form of emails begging for rescue.

No rescue ever came, and I was getting pretty sick of being leaned on and having my arm touched. I was just about to get rude and pick up my shit and move back to the bar, but instead NotBill had a great idea. He and I started telling the old women about all the other great bars around. I think they ended up going to Sluttopia.

Oh yeah, at about the time I ordered my second Marzen (5150) my hot girl sensors overloaded. I looked at the door, and it was ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl! I bounced over and gave her a hug, and looked for the other half of TeamHotness, UnbearablyHotSingleGirl. But she was nowhere to be seen. I hope they're not fighting.

It was still very cool though. I hadn't seen ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl in months. Unfortunately, they had too many people in their party to be able to join StoreGirl and NotBill and me at the island, so they went out front somewhere.

I came home at 10:00, because I'd stopped drinking after that second Marzen. There was still a .000016% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, after all.

Well, that slim chance eventually dwindled to nothing, but I got to have a little emailathon, and that was very nice.

At the end of the night I had another Marzen (5167) out on my swing and I thought happy thoughts.

Lunch was fun, I suppose. It would have been a lot more fun if LuckyFucker hadn't been constantly trying to pick a fight with HatGirl.

There, I said it. Not like it was a secret or anything. I'm a little bit disgusted.

None of my business, though. I just get protective towards people I care about.

---

Meanwhile, my cat Happy is pouting. I brought what was left of my Diet Coke home from Polly's, and it's in the same kind of cup that 'nanner milkshakes come in. So Happy thought I'd brought home a 'nanner milkshake.

I had to remove the lid and let him smell to convince him it was only Diet Coke.

Now he's inconsolable. I think I'll go back to Polly's and get some 'nanner milkshake for him, the poor thing.

Last time, it took years, and I see no reason for things to be any easier this time around. In many ways it's a lot harder, this time. I'm taking it personally, this time.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades?

I have no way of knowing how long it will take. I find myself constantly overestimating my strengths, and underestimating the obstacles ahead.

Sometimes I get a little tired and discouraged. Tired of the shock and the pain. Discouraged because, this time, there's no clear end - no clear goal. I just plod along and hope that maybe I'll eventually get to a good place.

Weeks was my initial prediction, and that's been proven to be entirely too optimistic. All I know is that, until that wonderful day when this relentless sobbing stops emanating from deep within me, acting normal will be beyond my abilities.

First, there was a surprise lunch invitation. I'll admit it freely - I was very excited about it. I mean, two days in a row!?! I was truly blessed. Or I would have been truly blessed if those lunch plans hadn't fallen apart as quickly as they had formed.

Second, there was dinner with BadPickleGirl. I really had a feeling that she was going to flake on me. We seemed to be making it much harder than it should have been. Well, sure enough, she cancelled at the last minute.

Third, I figured that I'd at least go over to Louisville, see AlliGirl, and check out CoolHairGirl's purple hair.

But noooooooooooooooooo!

They were having some stupid thing in Louisville, and they were charging a cover just to walk down the stupid street.

So, foiled not once, not twice, but thrice, I ended up just coming home. I ate some pizza. I watched Borat. I sat on my swing. I had a Newcastle (10648) and two Marzens (5116). I glared at my phone a lot.

All in all, It was still better than having my legs knocked out from under me and then being repeatedly kicked in the gut.

Anyway, here's a picture I took while peeing at Sam's this afternoon:

The part about .40¢ wings and .99¢ drafts and nachos and mini-cheeseburgers, that's one of my pet peeves. If you don't know why, then I probably think you're an idiot, just like I think the person who made this sign is an idiot.

But at least they've brought back mini football helemets. Good for them.