I kinda feel cruddy this morning. I slept too long, for one thing. My alarm went off at 4:00, and then I reset it to go off at 5:00. I didn't need that extra hour. I also didn't have any particular reason to get up at 4:00, though.

I hope it's just too much sleep that's got me feeling cruddy. I hope it's not allergies coming on. I have, after all, been sleeping with my windows open for the last several weeks.

I also feel bad for venting yesterday. But I'll get over it. Stuff needed to be said, and this is a better place than most.

Talked to StupidGirl for a bit last night. Things are looking much better for her. She's accepted responsibility for what happened, and they're giving her another chance. I'm so glad, even though it means she won't be coming here anytime soon. It really sucked when she was so sad and I couldn't do anything about it or even give her a hug.

Nugget is still hanging in there. Poor kitty is so skinny now.

This is shaping up to be the hottest week of the year so far. Not having air conditioning is pretty rough, but it's not as bad as I'd feared. The whole-house fan really does a lot of good. The main problem is that, because of the humidity, everything in my house feels like it's coated in a layer of slime. Gross, I know.

I guess that's it for now. Time to take a shower and go into work.

Back in my day, we didn't have all your fancy multi-color radars and tornado sirens and SMS alerts. You know what we had? Flying debris, that's what we had. And actual tornadoes. Flying debris and tornadoes, those were our warnings. That's all we had, and we were damn glad to have them. You kids today with your fancy technologies, get off my lawn.

Anyway.

The meteorologists have gone insane this Spring. I suppose this is somewhat understandable, because the weather has also gone insane. And usually I tolerate crazy people. Some of my best friends are, after all, crazy. But the meteorologists, in their never-ending quest to get ratings help save lives, are in danger of hurting a lot more people than they help.

For at least two storm systems in a row now, they've hyped the potential for dangerous storms to the point of saturation. Yesterday, it was like they were pretty much guaranteeing a long series of violent tornadoes, baseball-sized hail, incredible straight-line winds, and resulting death from one or more of the above. There was non-stop coverage on every television and radio. We were all going to die, and the only chance we had to stay alive was to stay tuned to their coverage.

They built things up so much that anything short of Armageddon would be a letdown, and so a letdown was what we got.

For at least the last two storm systems, they've gone a step further. They've issued actual tornado warnings when all they've really done is decided that a tornado is more likely than it had been a few minutes ago. This is not the same as the Doppler-indicated tornadoes that they used to issue warnings about. Nope, this is nothing more than half assed guesstimation.

A storm 50 miles to the west looks scary. It looks like there could be a tornado there at some point. So they go ahead and issue a tornado warning, not just for that area (which would be bad enough) but they also issue one for areas up to 60 miles away. It's like, maybe a tornado will form there, and then that tornado might last long enough and travel straight enough to endanger people 60 miles to the East, so they issue a warning for the people 60 miles to the East.

Meanwhile, 60 miles to the East, absolutely nothing is happening. The tornado sirens go off, people start to freak out, but then (as was the case for the last two storms here) absolutely nothing continues to happen. Maybe it gets a little windy. Maybe is starts raining. But no tornadoes.

Eventually people are going to stop freaking out when the tornado sirens go off. They'll know that, odds are, those sirens mean nothing. This is the danger that our meteorologists are putting us in. Those warnings are supposed to be, duh, warnings. They're supposed to mean that a tornado is coming, not that maybe a tornado is coming so be extra careful and stay tuned.

The meteorologists are becoming boys who cry wolf. And it's going to be a damn shame, when they have a real warning to give, and nobody believes them anymore.

Why not just go ahead and issue a worldwide tornado warning right now? Throw in warnings for blizzards, earthquakes, and alien invasions while you're at it.

I know there's a fine line, between providing as much warning as possible, and jumping the gun. Lives are at stake, after all. Ratings, too. I hope the former aren't being risked to boost the latter.

And then, sometimes, I'm thinking fuck it. If those eyes want to keep prying, then how is that my fault?

Oh, that's right, because I'm an asshole who, at any second, is bound to write something mean. Or something like that. If there's a different reason, I'd sure like to know it.

Anyway.

It's supposed to be fairly warm the next couple of days. I'm moderately excited about the possibility of going out to my garage with a beer or three so that I can do some navel-gazing. I haven't been out there since the weather got cold in the Fall. I miss it. I miss my swing even more, but that's a different story.

My mood has been mostly weird lately. My thoughts, unfettered. The things I used to think about all the time, they no longer hold my interest like they used to. So, if I go out to my garage and do some serious thinking, there's no telling where my thoughts will go. It's a little scary, sure, but it's also quite interesting to me. There was a time, not too long ago, when my thoughts always went to the same place.

Now, not so much.

It's been snowing hard all day today. But that's okay. It's melting as soon as it hits the ground. It's all the prettiness with none of the dangers.

I seem to remember reading or hearing that all(most?) precipitation starts as snow, up in the clouds where it's cold enough for that sort of thing. It's just that, during warm weather, the snow melts way before it hits the ground and so we get rain.

I think it would be really cool if water would take a little longer to melt. Just long enough that it would always snow. It would never rain. Even in the hottest part of the Summer, precipitation would fall as snow, and then melt after it had hit the ground.

It would be very pretty all the time. Rain is so boring and depressing to watch.

Somebody should look into making this happen.

I thought I'd make an attempt to standardize temperature descriptions. Please feel free to print this out and keep it with you at all times.

110: really fucking hot
100: fucking hot
95: too damn hot
90: hot
80: warm
70: nice
60: cool
40: chilly
25: cold
15: really cold
10: too damn cold
-10: fucking cold
-20: fucking arctic
-25: you've got to be kidding

I'm sick of this windchill bullshit.

They say it's 26 ourside, with a windchill of 18.

Well, a couple of weeks ago it was 18, and it felt a fuck of a lot warmer than it does now.

That is all. I'd type more but my fingers are frozen.

If I decided to write something every day, which I haven't done, I think it would be hard.

It seems to me that there are two primary sources of inspiration for blog entries.

1. Something that I've been thinking about.
2. Something that happened.

Well, as I've said before, I have too much of one thing and not enough of the other.

I could, if I was really determined, write about the rainstorm that trapped me at the mall today. About how it trapped me just outside the JC Penney, with about a dozen old women. We all stood under this awning, waiting for the rain to let up so we could get to the parking lot dryly.

I could also write about how, after about five minutes, I realized that there I was, ostensibly a man, cowering with a bunch of old women, and that perhaps I should just grow a pair and fuck it and get wet.

Then I could write about how, after about three steps into that rain, I was as wet as I'd have been if I'd just jumped into a lake.

But I won't write about any of that stuff, because it's boring.

You can thank me later.

Then I had Red Lobster for dinner, and it was yummy. Company would have been nice, though.

That's boring, too.

Not much that I can say about Friday. I got to see several of my favorite people, including my two most favorite people in the world. There was no drama, and I managed to keep my sadness in-check pretty well.

It fucking rained the entire night, so that sucked. But other than that it was a good night. Especially since that one crazy girl left as soon as she saw me.

It's such a nice night outside. It's warm, I mean. So even though the predicted thunderstorms look like they're a no-go, it's still nice.

I'm going to go out to my garage, and sit on my el-cheapo white plastic furniture, and drink at least one yummy Marzen, and I'm going to try to get out of this damn writey mood that I'm in.

How do I do that?

Well, I allow myself to be overwhelmed. So that thoughts refuse to line up like baby ducks. So that my mind is awash and aswarm with thousands of conflicting thoughts and emotions. So that I couldn't pick a single tree out of that forest if my life depended on it.

I make no promises, though. I might be able to keep my big fat mouth shut, or I might not.

There are things that I need to say, dammit. There are things that need to be said, dammit. There are thoughts that need to be expressed, dammit.

There are dragons that need to be slain, dammit, or at least acknowledged.

So there is flooding, but that doesn't affect my house, because I live atop Mt. Dave.

But something happened. A strong rumble of thunder or something, because the large framed picture that I keep above my fireplace is lying on the floor.

And that's not all. I really wish that was all, but it's not.

Also - and it's going to be hard to write this - also one of my Marzen glasses is broken. It shattered into a couple-dozen pieces.

That glass was given to me by LaptopGirl last Christmas.

So it's priceless and irreplaceable.

Just like she is.

When I was driving to work(!) this morning, there was a storm. It's been all over the news, even the national news. Louisville even made the front page of weather.com.

It rained. A lot. Like six inches in an hour, I think I heard. There was a lot of flooding.

But not in my basement.

So that's cool.

When I was about ten years old, I felt an earthquake in Southern Indiana. It was a very mild one, and I might not have noticed it at all if my grandmother's hutch hadn't started rattling.

Then, in 1994, I felt an earthquake in Seattle. This one was a little stronger - it kinda felt like a very heavy truck had rumbled off the road and then lightly smacked into my building.

In 1996, the day after I'd arrived in Alaska, I was sitting in a chair in the living room of my Anchorage apartment. I was taking a swig of soda from a can, and I leaned back to get the last few drops.

The next thing I knew, I was on my back, and the chair was on top of me.

The news said it was an earthquake. To me it seemed more like an earthjolt but I'm no seismologist. Whatever else it might have been, it was certainly a harbinger of things to come.

During the months I spent in Anchorage, I never went a week without feeling at least one earthquake. Some weeks would bring as many as three or four. None were ever particularly strong. Even that first one hadn't been more than a 5.2 or so - it had just caught me off-guard and off-balance.

Most days I worked in the customer's building, but every now and then I'd have reason to visit my own company's Anchorage office. Calling it an office was a bit of an overstatement. The company had been founded in Anchorage, but had relocated to Seattle at some point, and there was only one permanent Anchorage employee. A nice girl named Brenda who did everything from sales to accounting to first-level customer support to sweeping up at the end of the day.

She didn't like earthquakes very much. So I had a lot of fun walking heavily around the office, making the floor creak and the partitions sway. I never could see Brenda when I did these things, for if she'd been able to see me that would have ruined the jokes, but I liked to imagine that she crawled under her desk every time I did it.

Good times.

---

One of the things that struck me as funny about Anchorage was actually one of the more depressing things. People are always yammering on and on about how beautiful it is in Alaska. And it certainly is. Words are inadequate to describe some of the natural beauty I saw up there.

But one of the most beautiful phenomenon was actually man-made, though I didn't know it until Brenda told me.

See, it was so cold up there that the actual smog would freeze.

Frozen smog would coat the leafless limbs and branches and twigs of every tree. It turned every tree into a crystalline work of art. It wasn't like the ice-coated trees I'd seen before. Nope, it was fuzzy and delicate. Just really really pretty stuff.

Caused by air pollution, but still one of the most beautiful sights in one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen.

I was up there to work, of course. Because I was, at the time, the only single engineer at my company, I got to do all the traveling. I liked it. I'd already spent half a year in New Orleans, and I'd probably never have made it there otherwise. Double-ditto for Alaska.

My days always began at about 6:00. I'd get all bundled up and I'd go outside to start the car. Then I'd go back inside, take a shower and stuff like that, while the car heated up and the windows de-iced. If I was lucky, I'd be able to do all of this without the old man shuffling down and knocking on my door. He always asked me if I wanted any coffee, but I never wanted any.

During that time of year, the Sun wouldn't make an appearance until 10:00 AM or so, and then it would be gone again by 2:00 PM. Anchorage lies South of the Arctic circle, so it never quite gets down to zero hours of daylight in the Winter, and it never quite gets to twenty-four hours of daylight in the Summer. I know that those four hours of daylight did me a world of good. Just knowing that the Sun was shining outside, even if I couldn't see it from my windowless room.

Anyway, I'd go to work. This particular project was interesting to me, but probably not to anyone else, so I won't dwell on it. Except to say that static electricity and computers don't mix, and that Alaska in the Winter is so cold and dry that static electricity is a huge problem. I felt like some kind of super hero, the way the sparks were constantly shooting out of my fingers.

I totally forgot to mention the snow. There was about three feet of the stuff on the ground. Whatever had fallen since September or so was still there, joined layer-after-layer by new stuff. It was Alaska in January. Of course there was snow. I'd actually been expecting more, but people said it had been a dry Fall.

What got me to thinking about the snow was the seagulls.

You know how, back in the real world, when it snows they plow the parking lots and they usually leave a pile of snow somewhere kind of out of the way? Well, in Anchorage they do the same thing, except the resulting piles of snow are usually two stories tall and fifty feet in diameter.

One day I was standing outside work, smoking a cigarette, and there were some seagulls playing on the wind currents around one such mound. That's the only word to describe it - they were playing. Hovering at the top of the pile, where the wind was strongest, then diving down the other side, sometimes even turning somersaults in the air, and then going back and doing it again and again. It really was a cool thing to watch, and I bet I stayed out there for an hour, wishing I was a bird, because that really looked like fun.

Working all day was, of course, annoying. There I was in fucking Alaska and I couldn't do any sightseeing because it was always dark when I wasn't working. So my excursions to check out the natural beauty of the place would have to wait until the weekend. My weeknights were mostly spent shooting pool at the Billiard Palace. Back then, I would occasionally gamble a few dollars on my pool games. I'd win some and I'd lose some. Mostly I won, I think, except for this one dude who was a lot better than I was but I kept playing him because he was a friendly sort.

Remind me to tell you about all the earthquakes.

It's funny that I'm calling this part one. That implies that there'll be additional parts. But I seriously doubt it. I'm really taxing my brain as it is, thinking about and writing about something that happened so long ago that it's almost folklore by default.

Anyway, it was 1996. Dinosaurs roamed the Earth, and primitive mammals spent their days scurrying to and fro and counting the days until they'd be in charge of things. I know. I was there. I was one such mammal.

I arrived in Alaska on January 2nd. It was my second trip to Anchorage, but the first one of any consequence or duration. I think the previous visit had been in the Spring of 1994, and it had only lasted a few days.

I wish I'd paid more attention. But, back then, I was too busy scurrying. And avoiding dinosaurs. And watching the sky for comets. And being cold.

I've looked at the weather pages on the internet, and I can't find confirmation, but the high temperature that first day was nineteen degrees below zero, according to the television lady. I remember that she was quite cute, as if that matters.

I spent my first night in a hotel. A Holiday Inn or some such. There was a brewpub in the hotel, and they had a pumpkin ale. Back then, I wasn't into beer at all. I mean, I knew that there was beer that I liked and beer that I didn't like, but I hadn't yet formed any theories as to why any one particular beer might be categorized one way or another. I was pretty sure that I didn't like lagers, and I was starting to suspect that I liked ales, but I'd gone no further that those two preliminary hypotheses.

So I had the pumpkin ale, and it was fucking yummy. Unlike anything I'd had before. I had three or four more.

But I digress.

The next day, my coworker arrived. He took over the hotel room, and I moved to the apartment that my company had secured. Fine with me. Mainly I just needed a place to smoke and watch TV and sleep, and an apartment seemed like a better place than a hotel. I don't know why.

The apartment was in the walk-out basement of a house in the center of town. There was a dude living in the house, and I knocked on his door to get a key to the apartment.

Anybody remember the old Captain Kangaroo TV show? Okay, remember Mr. Green Jeans from that show? Well, the dude who owned the house/apartment looked exactly like Mr. Green Jeans. But he didn't act like Mr. Green Jeans. Nope, this guy was between seventy and three-thousand years old, and, because of senility or brain-freeze or something, had the mental capacity of a turnip.

At first, I tried to make myself feel better by imagining that the dude was just a partier who was drunk all the time, but by the third or fourth time that he'd managed to wake me up by shoveling snow at 4:00 AM, I knew better.

I'm digressing again, dammit.

It was fucking cold.

The weather page on the internet is no help, but the hot lady on TV assured me that, for the first three weeks I spent in Anchorage, the high temperature was eighteen below zero. Then, on or about the 20th of January, it shot up to seven below zero.

Woo-hoo!

T-shirts and shorts became the uniform of the day. All over Anchorage, alabaster skin competed with reluctant sunlight in a contest to see which could cause the most blindness. Me, well I continued to dress like a normal person who was freezing to death - a cheechako in Alaskanese - with my coat and glove and boots and the like. I did learn an important lesson that day, though. For me, the dividing-line between cold and fucking cold is at ten degrees below zero.

There is a difference. There really is. At ten below zero, I can function. At eleven below zero, I might as well be a chunk of ice that won't melt until June.

In Anchorage, they say, there are three seasons each year.

Winter lasts from late August until April or so. Next is Breakup, during which the snow and ice decides that it's maybe time to start thinking about melting and forming puddles. The more disgusting the puddles, the better.

The third season is road construction, and that lasts from the end of Breakup until the beginning of Winter, or for about a week and a half during late July and early August.

Wow, I've already written more than I expected, and I haven't even gotten to the good part yet.

Stay tuned for part two if I ever get around to writing it.

I could lose power at any second. That's kinda exciting to me. The lightning outside is crazy, like living inside a strobe-light. I want to vomit some words here and then I want to go back out to my garage and watch the lightning some more.

This probably isn't going to make any sense to anyone but me, but I don't care. I don't know why you people read this crap anyway. Inertia is my guess.

---

I can close my eyes, when I'm in the right mood like the one I'm in right now, and I can see.

A single bright point of light, directly ahead. It outshines, without even trying, the smudges to my left and the smears to my right, and even the fading spotlight behind me.

People think, people wonder, people question, people doubt, people question some more. But people just don't see. It's right there.

All I have to do is close my eyes, and everything is perfectly clear.

Such a stupid rainy day. Yesterday was almost perfect weather, though, so I guess today should be allowed to be stupid if that's the way it really wants to be.

But this would have been a good day to work on getting my swing fixed, if I could have talked my sister's husband into helping. And if it wasn't raining.

---

Sometime today HatGirl will take me to get my truck from Jeffersonville. I'm sure that will be the highlight of my day.

As things turned out, our transportation arrangements for yesterday were way too complicated. What we did was, (a) I met her Friday near the riverfront, (b) we parked her car, (c) I took her home, then on Saturday (d) I picked her up in my truck, (e) we parked a couple of miles from the riverfront, (f) walked to the riverfront, and then after the show (g) she drove me home in her car, and then today (h) she'll come and drive me to get my truck.

What we could have done, as it turned out, was just drive my truck Saturday, park and walk, and then walk back to my truck after the show.

It's that 20/20 hindsight thing. Next year, we'll know better.

Plus the parking sticker for HatGirl's car cost $50.

---

I may be housing some dogs for a while. My cats will be thrilled, I'm sure.

---

My sisters and my niece are in Ireland now. I'm totally jealous.

---

I need to do laundry.

An annoying pattern is emerging.

I need to do something about it, since it's my fault.

---

Hey, you.

Just think. That's really all I ask.

And, if you keep coming up with the wrong answer, think some more.

I'll let you know when you're finally right, if everyone else in your life doesn't beat me to it.

---

It's March now. Cold weather, please go away. Okay thanks.

---

I didn't bring it up, but now that it's been brought up, several times, I'm having a tough time not thinking about it. This is one of the few things about this mess that is not my fault.

So there.

---

I think that's it for now. Funny, I thought there would be more.

I want to go down to the Derby City Classic for a while tonight. It should be the last few rounds of the banks tournament. It should be fun.

But, the thing is, it's supposed to snow. Somewhere between four inches and eight feet, depending on which TV station you watch, and I don't really want to get stranded in an expensive casino when I don't have much money.

So I'd get down there and hope it didn't snow and then, if it didn't snow, I'd blame myself. And I like snow. Plus, my sister Neisha would kill me if I made it not snow.

And then there's other stuff. I can't write about the other stuff.

It snowed a little last night. Enough to make things pretty and to make the roads slick for a while. I liked it.

---

Spent some time this morning looking at pricing for flights to Las Vegas. I want to go there over my birthday weekend, I think. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have to worry about a place to stay.

---

Last night we had a nice dinner at Sam's. I always end up getting the blackened chicken alfredo, and it's always a little disappointing. This time it was much better than normal. Quite yummy.

---

Then I went over to HatGirl and LuckyFucker's house to drink a couple beers and play some cards.

HatGirl!

Yay!

We played spades, and I destroyed them. That was weird, because I usually suck at that game.

---

I wonder if Sportstime is open today. I'm craving a little pizza for lunch.

It was supposed to snow last night. They said it was supposed to snow.

Damn no-snow-having waste of cold weather.

Last night I was able, thanks to some unseasonably warm weather, to sit out in my detached garage for a while. I'd found a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (6789) in my refrigerator and, what with yesterday having been what it was, I needed to drink it. So that's what I did. I sat on my el-cheapo white plastic furniture, drank my yummy beer, and contemplated the universe.

Much like when I went to the grocery store Monday night, I couldn't remember the last time I'd sat in my garage. It had certainly been a while. And, though the circumstances that led me to sit out there last night were pretty horrible, I suppose that I ended up enjoying it. Sometimes it's nice for me to simply enjoy my own company for a couple of hours.

I just sent RockGirl an email. She'd asked me when I slept.

Saturday night I didn't sleep a wink. I finally got to sleep at about 3:00 Monday morning and slept until 7:00. Monday night I think it was about 4:00 when I finally got to sleep. Yesterday after work I actually managed to take a two-hour nap, then I couldn't get to sleep again until at least 2:30.

This is a boring entry.

I've had this stupid little nagging thought in my head for the past couple of days. I've had it before over the years, but I've always been able to ignore it until it went away.

This time, the damn stupid little nagging thought is being stubborn, and I'm not sure that it's going to go away. Because it might be right.

---

Today it's supposed to be really nice outside. Like 76 degrees. I'd walk to The Pub for lunch, but there's no point, because there are no beer sales until the polls close.

---

Sometimes I have to ask myself how things should proceed, if they proceed. I mean, if they're allowed to proceed to their logical conclusion, how should it happen? Slowly and deliberately, or as quickly as possible, to get the inevitable out of the way?

Sometimes it's really surreal that these aren't completely hypothetical questions.

---

Damn, I was supposed to pick up a case of Moerlein OTR when I was in Covington, but I forgot. Oh well, it's close. Maybe we can go up there together some weekend.

---

I forgot to set my clock back, so I got up an hour early this morning.

I got a very nice surprise today.

An unscheduled AlliDay!

I don't think I'd seen AlliGirl in over a month, and even then she'd been too busy to really talk. But today, I walked into the pub, expecting to see the same boring Wednesday people that I've been seeing for months, and instead I saw some legs. And a shock of blonde hair peeking from under a baseball cap. And, once I got close enough for her to recognize me, a mischievous grin.

AlliGirl!

And, it wasn't too busy in there today, so after the mandatory hug we got to talk for quite a bit and do some catching up.

It was really nice to see her!

Oh, yeah, I had a Newcastle (11106) for lunch.

Then, back to work.

Then, I went over to HatGirl's house to feed her cat and dogs and LuckyFucker's fish. Because they're gone. Getting married. Fucking surreal.

Anyway, HatGirl had assured me that her one asshole dog wasn't an asshole anymore. I'm not saying that she lied to me, but she was definitely mistaken. That damn dog refused to let me pay any attention whatsoever to the other dogs. It's exactly the same as it was a year ago.

And I didn't get to see the kitty at all. It was hiding from me because it doesn't know that I'm a cat person.

Then I went to Rich O's and had an Upland Wheat (231), then I came home.

Now I want to go outside and drink a Marzen but it's too damn cold. I kinda want to take a little space heater out there with me, but I'm afraid that might seem pathetic.

Maybe I'll just drink a damn beer in my living room like a regular person.

A long time ago, before I was even born if you can believe that, I guess a bunch of people wore buttons saying "I like Ike."

You know, because of Eisenhower or however it's spelled.

Well, I think I'd like to introduce a new button. Mine will say "Ike can suck my hairy ass."

You know, because of the hurricane.

For those just tuning in, I live in Southern Indiana. Tornado country. Maybe earthquake country. But not fucking hurricane country.

Well, somebody must have missed a memo or something. That damn hurricane Ike refused to die after wreaking havoc down South where it belonged. Nope, it continued Northeasterly with its hurricane-force winds, and wreaked havoc upon the Louisville area too. Upon my area.

Everybody is affected. Some in worse ways than others. I, for example, have not had power since noon on Sunday (UPDATE: Power came back at 8:30 PM Tuesday). I lost some big-ass branches, and a couple of big trees either fell or split in half. There are millions of twigs and leaves littering my lawn, and some in my living room that are really perplexing me.

But all of that I can deal with. The thing I may not be able to deal with is this:

That, readers, is my swing. Or the pile of rubble formerly known as my swing. Fucking Ike took it out completely. Ripped it right out of the ground.

I'm sad about this. Much sadder, I'm sure, than I should be. "It was just a swing, after all," people will say.

But, to me, it was really much more than that. To me, standing there Sunday afternoon, it was almost like I'd lost a friend.

I couldn't help but think of the dozens of times I'd sat on that swing with MixedSignalGirl, or the millions of times I'd sat there without LaptopGirl, or all of the other times when I'd just go out there to relax and not think about anything for a while.

It just makes me sad that it's gone.

Let me put it this way: If Ike had destroyed my house, and my detached garage, and my swing - I'd replace my swing first and then worry about the trivial structures.

---

I wrote the above, in my little notebook, while sitting in that same coffee shop, next to that same lovely companion. Trying to feed off her creativity, I suppose, and not really succeeding. I was distracted, after all.

Now I'm across the street at Bearno's. Drinking a Goose Island Honker's Ale (132), scribbling in this notebook, and watching my phone. There's a chance that I might hear from her again tonight. There's a smaller chance that I might get to see her again tonight. So I'm waiting.

There's no sense in going home. No power there, and not even a single bar of reception on my Blackberry - just "SOS."

And, of course, she's not there either. So, I'll wait for a while. She's worth it.

The weather page thingy says 87 degrees tomorrow, but with a 30% chance of showers and thunderstorms.

That latter part sucks, by the way. We're supposed to go do something tomorrow. I've only been looking forward to it for weeks.

So I don't know if we're going to do it or not. I guess I'll find out.

UPDATE: We're not, but not because of the stupid weather. Because of stupid work commitments.

The Cock & Bull was pretty crowded. Much more than it had been in April. I guess warm weather will do that to bars. Except Rich O's, for some reason.

My plan had been to just sit at the bar and drown my sorrows all night. I got a decent start, with a couple bottles of yummy Moerlein OTR (60), but by the time those were gone it was only 6:00 or so, and I recognized that I should probably go to some other places.

The first other place I went to was the Hofbrauhaus. I was there for about 1.7 seconds. There was extremely LOUD POLKA MUSIC and there was also not a single empty seat in the house - not even at the bar.

So I walked down the hill, and over the floodwall, to the Beer Sellar barge. While I was walking there, the stupid Sun came out from the clouds, and the weather went from very pleasant to unbearably fucking hot and humid. Plus, the stupid Beer Sellar didn't seem to have any air conditioning. Just a big fan that did nothing but stir the humid air around, so it felt like I was going swimming.

I was sweating like the proverbial whore in church.

I had myself a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (567) and then some Diet Cokes while I tried to acclimate myself to the humidity. Seriously, the place made me long for the old days I spent in New Orleans. This place was New Orleans with twice the humidity but thankfully none of the smell.

After my third Diet Coke or so, I realized that it was stupid to be there, so I drove back to the hotel, and then I walked back to the Cock & Bull.

My phone keeps ringing. I'll finish this later.

It's too hot to write anything. Maybe in the Fall, it won't be as hot.

I'm not really sure where to start with this. I suppose that the beginning would be the logical place. But what was the beginning?

Maybe it was when I got onto the plane in Louisville, and this one hot chick (who's chair I once stole at Sluttopia) was sitting across the aisle from me.

Small world, as they say.

There was a another hot girl, this one sitting right next to me on the plane. But I couldn't tell how old she was so I didn't drool too much. She had very pretty legs, I couldn't help but notice. I mean, they were right there. Taunting me.

So then we landed in Atlanta. An uneventful flight, just the way I like my flights to be. We taxied to the gate and stopped about 50 feet short of it.

Did I mention that, about when we landed, it started storming like crazy? As in, like a motherfucker?

Well, it did. It was storming so badly that they shut the airport down. No take-offs. No landings. And, most relevant to me, none of those cute little airport gnomes on the tarmac to guide planes into the gates.

So, we sat. For about 45 minutes.

That sucked, by the way.

Welcome to Atlanta.

Not.

After we finally were allowed to dock at the gate, and after I finally got my baggage and my rental car, I drove 40 or so miles to Norcross, where my hotel was.

One interesting thing about driving for two hours in the pouring rain on an unfamiliar freeway amidst a million other cars - it's not as much fun as it seems like it would be. But I eventually found my hotel and checked-in. Then I threw my shit down and went back out into the rain.

I drove around for about three hours, looking for a Taco Mac. That's a chain down there that has, or so I'd heard, good food and great beer selections. Well, I ended up getting hopelessly lost, and I never did find a Taco Mac.

I did, however, find a Krystal, which was almost as good. I hadn't had Krystal since 1998 when I lived in Memphis.

My cheeseburgers were yummy.

My fries were kinda greasy.

So today I went to Jeffersonville.

First time in a couple of years, I think, that I've graced that town with my presence. At least on my own - I seem to recall going to Buckhead for lunch with some coworkers more recently.

Buckhead is where I went today, of course. I like the food there. I like the memories that resurface there. And they usually have good beer, too.

I sat out on the deck, oddly optimistic that it wouldn't rain while I was eating, and I enjoyed a yummy Cajun burger and a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (551) in a plastic cup.

It was very nice out today, as long as it was cloudy. As soon as the Sun would come out from behind the clouds - as happened several times - I'd almost immediately start being roasted alive.

But, it was usually cloudy, and so I survived.

Then, I went across the street to Hooters to see my cousin Jeff. I haven't seen him since my nephew's funeral, but that's not entirely my fault. He has agreed to share a lot of the blame.

Anyway, here's a picture of the potential storm that rolled in right after I got to Hooters.

All that storm really did was dump rain. It cooled things off, though, so that was nice.

While I was at Hooters, I had a couple glasses of Newcastle (9808) while I talked with Jeff. Then I went to Sluttopia to meet up with some old guy who was going to loan me a guitar, but he was a no-show. Damn old people. They can't be trusted for shit.

And that was it. Now I'm back home, wondering what happened to my weekend.

I know, I suck. You don't have to remind me. I need to update this thing more often. Even if I only have boring things to write about, I still need to do it.

Thursday was another virtual Friday for me, so I went to Rich O's for some stupid reason. The fucking Thursday weirdoes were there, of course, and they made my life miserable with their existence, of course.

I sat at the kiddie table and had three yummy glasses of Delirium Tremens (1187) and they were yummy. I didn't really talk to anyone except WomanRepellant, and even that was just for a while.

I got really really bored and left once I'd realized that nobody interesting was going to show up. Also, now there are three of the Thursday weirdoes wearing those stupid hats. Before, it had been just the one uberweirdo. But now there are three of them doing it.

So then Friday morning we had us some earthquakes.

When the first one hit, all three of my cats jumped off the bed and hauled ass down the hallway. I woke up and wondered for a second if my cats were really fat enough to cause the house to shake like that. When my mind cleared a little, I thought that a tornado must be barreling toward my house. But when I turned my head and looked out my window, I saw stars in the sky. That's when I figured that it was either an earthquake or a plane crash or something.

The thing about earthquakes is that you don't know how long they're going to last or how strong they're going to get. So I put on some pants in case I had to run outside.

The other thing about earthquakes is that you don't know anything. I mean, it could have been a .01 earthquake right under my house, or it could have been an 11.5 earthquake in St. Louis. I didn't know, and I wanted to know, so once the shaking had stopped I went and checked the USGS site. I was very impressed that they already had information about the quake - it had only been a couple of minutes.

The second earthquake that I felt was at 11:15 or so. I was in my kitchen, and all of my bottles started rattling together, or I might not have even noticed it.

Anyway.

Friday afternoon was fun. I went to Polly's Freeze for lunch. There were 18 million high school kids there, but they arrived right after I did, so I didn't have to wait for my order. So, haha stupid high school kids. Then I got an email from LaptopGirl. Then I went and had the oil changed in my truck, then I bought new tires for my truck. The old tires were 9 years old, so I got my money's worth.

Friday night I got a couple of text messages from TremensGirl. She seemed to want me to be at Rich O's, for some reason. But of course by the time I finally arrived there were people more interesting than me there. Hard to believe, I know. But that's okay, I have enough to worry about, and I'm sure it's all my fault anyway.

I sat at the island and watched the door all night. The place was pretty packed, mostly I think because some dude nobody ever heard of was playing music in the special people section, and so anyone who didn't feel like paying the cover charge had to use whatever space they could find and/or manufacture in the remainder of Rich O's.

So I sat at the island and I had a couple pints of NABC Cone Smoker (3497) and then after LaptopGirl arrived (yay!) we split a Smithwick's (1688) and talked mostly about babies and murder-mystery stuff. I had a brilliant idea for a Rich O's murder-mystery. Maybe someday it will actually happen, but I'll have to write it myself because LaptopGirl doesn't like my idea.

Then when I came home I sat in my garage and had a bottle of Schlenkerla Marzen (3431). It had been raining earlier, or I'd have sat on my swing.

Then today I was supposed to have the wheels realigned on my truck, but I got there too late. Oh well.

Okay, I'm all caught up with this blog thingy now.

Every now and then someone will make a statement, and nobody really pays much attention to it. Maybe they dismiss it as simple conversation.

But perhaps they should pay close attention, lest they miss something important. Something immortal even.

Like these words of MisunderstoodGirl, from March 2005.

Man, it's really pouring down snow out there.

I think most people around here are pretty excited this morning. I know I'm pretty excited, and I'm a grumpy old man.

We're having the biggest snowfall we've had since December of 2004. You could even call it the only snowfall we've had here since then. I'm looking out my office window, and I can't tell how much snow I have out there. It's blowing and drifting around too much. I will guess that there's at least 10 inches of snow.

And it's still snowing, though that's not expected to last for much longer, I don't think.

Anyway, it's pretty cool, but I'm ready for Spring now.

Well, the snowstorm was a dud. Despite some promise early in the evening, it petered out fairly quickly. I'm looking at two inches where I'd been expecting up to ten inches. So I can empathize with the ex-girlfriends of this one fucker at Rich O's.

I have high hopes for the coming ice storm, though.

---

The other night I saw someone reaching out to another person. I watched her reach out, and I watched her get absolutely nothing in response. I can certainly empathize with that, because sometimes it seems like all I do is reach out to find nothing.

Now, to be fair, every now and then people will reach out to me, and I'll either slap their hand away or squeeze it gently then move it aside - it depends on my mood and on who is doing the reaching. Sometimes, I do that. Maybe people think I'm a dick because of it, but I know the truth. I'm just trying to keep both of my hands free, in case they're ever really needed.

---

I'm really excited about this Jumper movie that's coming out. It's one of my favorite books. I know that movies are almost never as good as the books they're based on, but I have a good feeling about this particular movie. Also, I wish I could jump around from place to place like that. It would be cool.

That same guy wrote another book I really like. It's called Wildside. I think that would make a good movie, too.

I feel all deep and contemplative tonight. Like I could really grab hold of something and make it important through thinking about it and writing about it. I'm not really sure what that something might be, but I'll be up for a while longer, so maybe it'll come to me.

---

I had the strangest dream earlier. It was all bits and flashes. I was married to some famous chick, and the dream was a bunch of snapshots of our life together. But it wasn't sequential at all. We'd be old and retired on a beach, and then we'd be young and just meeting for the first time. It was kinda like a documentary or something, but really weird. Like this one time I was in bed, and I opened my eyes to see this thing coming toward me. You know those inflatable boxing dudes that you punch and they keep standing back up? It was one of those things. It was coming towards me from the far end of the room, holding a shotgun. But then my wife came in and popped it with a knitting needle. That was nice of her.

In another, much later scene, we were at some fancy party, and my wife was crying because she was supposed to sing (I think that's why she was famous, for her singing) but some whore had just sang the exact song she was going to sing. So my wife was very upset and crying. She was so upset, in fact, that she dove into this trash barrel to vomit and hide. I ended up rolling her back to our suite (I think we were at The Rio in Las Vegas) and the police were there asking questions about the popped boxing dude.

---

ArtGirl and I are supposed to go see some band Saturday. I never heard of the band before - it's called Rufus Huff - but MusicalYuppieDude highly recommends them. I'm kind of excited about it. I haven't been to see a band for a song time. Plus, I like ArtGirl. It should be fun.

---

Tonight there were all kinds of storms around here. The tornado siren went off for about two hours straight. All I got was some hard rain, though. Enough to get some water in my basement. I hate it when that happens.

---

My sleep schedule is seriously hosed.

Walking out my front door this morning, I was able to confirm what I'd suspected last night. It was a big tree.

I got pretty lucky, though. The tree barely reached my house.

This section of gutter is toast. I've got a guy coming out to see if there's any damage to my actual roof. He'll also give me an estimate on repairs. This is the same guy who replaced my entire roof a few years ago.

This hole in my yard is going to be a pain to fill, I just know it.

I got lucky.

You know what a tree sounds like, when it falls onto your house?

Well, I'll tell you. I'm an expert on the subject, now.

It sounds like a very loud clap of thunder, except that it doesn't rumble on and trail off the way that thunder does. Nope, it's pretty much a loud BOOM! and that's it. Or, in the case of a tree hitting my house, it's a loud BOOM! followed by the sound of three cats hauling ass to the basement.

When it happened, I was trying to take a nap on my couch. I'd just about managed to fall asleep, and the house lost power. Then, the hail started. Itty-bitty little balls of ice, maybe a quarter of an inch in diameter. They were adorable, bouncing across the wood of my deck like spilled Skittles or something.

Then, the BOOM!

I still haven't really gotten a good look at the tree. Or of the damage it surely caused. It's pretty fucking dark outside. It's a big fucking tree, though. One of the tall skinny variety that populates the Northwest corner of my yard.

I'll take pictures tomorrow sometime. And I'll need to get somebody up here to give me an estimate on repairs. I know there'll be some repairs. I could see that much, even in the dark. But, there's no damage visible from inside my house, so it could certainly be worse.

There's almost two inches of snow on the ground here now. Weird, but cool. It's a freakin' Winter wonderland all of a sudden.

I went to Rich O's after work today. More out of habit than any particular desire to observe Pizza Day or have a beer. But it's cool that I went in, because after a few sips of Upland Wheat (126), I saw that NABC had tapped their Old Lightning Rod a couple of days early. I traded the rest of my Upland for a pint of the Old Lightning Rod (250) and it was very good as always.

---

Today I counted up the vacation days that I've used since May, when our fiscal year started. I've still got a buttload of days left to take. To help rectify this situation, I'm taking this Thursday and Friday off. So, because Monday is a company holiday, I'll get a five-day weekend. What will I do with this five-day weekend? Probably not a damn thing.

I need to take a week off sometime this Spring and go somewhere. Las Vegas is my obvious first choice, but I'm also thinking about maybe going up to Seattle instead. I haven't been there since 2002, and I find myself thinking about that place, and those people, quite often.

---

Oh yeah, this morning it snowed like a motherfucker for about an hour. Flakes the size of 50-cent pieces. It was quite pretty, and I got a little excited that maybe it would accumulate. But alas, it melted on contact with the ground. I'm not a huge fan of snow, but I detest cold weather, and snow at least makes it bearable for me. They're saying that it might snow here Thursday, but I suspect that's just a ploy to get us to watch the evening news.

---

Funny, I thought I'd have more to write about tonight.

Yesterday we had snow and sleet and freezing rain here, pretty much all day. This was strange, because Al Gore keeps saying that won't happen.

I spent my day at home. Messing with a web page design for LaptopGirl in between power outages. I'd planned to do my Christmas shopping, but I didn't feel like dealing with the idiots on the roads. They're bad enough even when the weather's good.

Anyway, a few times in the past, when it's snowed, people have been known to puss out and cower in their homes instead of going out. And, when Rich O's is really dead, they'll close up early. I was a little fearful that they'd be closing early last night, so I went there very early. Like at 6:00 or so. I figured that if it was dead in there I could at least buy a growler to take home.

But it was okay. The place was fairly full. A bunch of people I know were in the living room area, and for some reason they saved the throne for me. So that was nice of them.

I had myself a pint of NABC Cone Smoker, and enjoyed that immensely while I talked with TremensGirl and MusicalYuppieDude and NotHideousGirl. NotHideousGirl and I have agreed that we will each pretend that we share fault for our crumbling friendship. This is a good compromise, I think.

At about 8:00, I remembered that it was the Ides of December, so I got myself into a bad mood. I briefly toyed with the idea of just going home. Actually, I obsessed over that idea for quite a while. But eventually I decided to just have another Cone Smoker (2881) and stop being a baby.

At one point during the night, I observed this conversation:

I will never understand women.

I had the brilliant idea to text BikerGirl and invite her to Rich O's. I'd thought that maybe having NotHideousGirl and me both there might be enough to entice her. This thought helped to slow the descent of my mood, and I ordered another Cone Smoker.

But then I remembered that BikerGirl was working.

I drank about 2/3 (2895) of my beer, but I saw no point in staying any longer, so I came home at 10:00 or so.

I just came in from sitting on my swing outside. I was going to sit out there until I managed to think of something entry-worthy, but it's a little too chilly, so I came back in.

---

At Rich O's today after work (Rogue Chocolate Stout (1826)) I had an idea. What if I took all of the penis-enlargement spam that I get and bought everything they offer?

A couple of inches from a special diet, four inches from pills, an additional 20% from some stretching gizmo. And so on. What if I could add them all up?

I bet that, six months and a couple of thousand dollars later, I could sit at Rich O's and drink beer all day, but I'd continue to get paid because my dick could still be sitting at my desk at work doing my job.

It would be win-win!

---

There's a new stray cat outside. It's a very light gray color. I have named it Ghost, in case I ever see it again.

---

WeirdGirl is being a little mean to me. But I guess that's better than being nice to me. Because nice would remind me of what I'm missing.

---

Not that it really bothers me.

It's kinda funny. Not too long ago I kept trying to convince myself that I was a normal happy person. That deception never worked. These days I catch myself trying to get in a bad mood, and that doesn't work either.

---

Today, for some reason, I thought about this one kid from my youth. Not a friend by any stretch of the imagination, just a kid who lived next to my cousins for a while. So we were kinda forced to play with him sometimes. He was a real dick. He's probably in jail or dead by now. Or he's a billionaire. Man, what a dick that guy was!

---

There's something that keeps becoming more of a possibility all the time. Something that I should really be more worried about than I am. But I'm not worried about it very much at all. This may end up biting me in the ass.

---

I can't believe it's 1:00 AM and I'm still up. This is pretty stupid. Especially since I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn again tomorrow. I'm giving NotHideousGirl rides to work as her car woes continue unabated. It's nice to feel useful though.

---

If you ever want to see something funny, go to Rich O's when Roger is there and say something about how 8664.org wants to tear down I-64 in Louisville.

---

I was watching Big Brother tonight (shut up, I like it) and I got to thinking about a Rich O's reality show in that same vein. I don't think I'd be the first regular evicted, but I bet I'd be in the first five. I know without a doubt who the first evictee would be. And I'm pretty sure I know who'd end up winning it all. At least I know who I'd vote for.

---

I'll be gone all next week. If it's anything like the last time I went to Philadelphia, I won't have any time for anything but work. So I might go as many as five days without posting anything. The world will probably keep turning without my input.

---

Now it's 1:18 AM and I'm still up. I am stupid. I think I'll go to bed as soon as I finish this Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2085)

I don't really feel like writing anything, but I guess I will or I'll be annoyed with myself.

This edition of Saturday Beer Report is a little different than others. This one is about Saturday afternoon. There will be nothing about Saturday night because I just stayed home.

Anyway, my first stop was Buffalo Wild Wings for Naked Tenders and Spicy Garlic sauce. I had a Newcastle (6003) of course, but there was something a little off about it. I think that place needs to clean their lines or something. There was a huge storm that tore through the area. Customers and employees were freaking out a little. But all that really happened was the lights flickered a few times. We all survived.

Next I went over to The Pub to see BikerGirl. I had a Newcastle (6023) there, and it was yummy as usual. Also yummy was BikerGirl, but she wasn't feeling well and she left as soon as she got off work, and some dude took over the bar. I spent quite a bit of time talking to this heart surgeon and this older couple about beer. I drew everyone maps to Rich O's. The heart surgeon guy wanted one for himself, and the older couple wanted one for their beer-snob son. I am the unofficial Rich O's ambassador to the world. I should get diplomatic immunity or something.

Next I went to Lucky Strike to see if this one cute-as-a-bug girl was working, but there was some dude instead. So I went to Hard Rock to see if CoolHairGirl was working, but the dude there said she'd called in sick. So I went down to Red Star to see if this one chick was working but it was, once again, some fucking dude. I had a Newcastle (6043) and contemplated the serious lack of female bartenders on Fourth Street.

Every time I go to Red Star they play this John Waite song that makes me miss a certain person, so I sent some emails to RockGirl complaining about my lonely life. I'd been thinking for a week that it was a Bryan Adams song, but it's John Waite who I hate. Hey, that rhymes.

I also tried a few times to call NotHideousGirl. I ended up leaving a message, asking if she wanted to go do karaoke later. Specifically, she would sing and I would listen.

On the way back to The Pub, I popped into Sully's, just to confirm that the bartender there was a dude too. At The Pub, I had yet another Newcastle (6063) and talked to the older couple some more. Then I came home and slept.

NotHideousGirl never did call me back about the karaoke. That's probably a good thing, as my mood has been quite strange for the past couple of days. So I stayed home and watched the American Pie movies after I woke up from my nap.

Pretty damn exciting.

First of all, if wanting to have sex with Ashley Judd is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

I don't suppose there's much to say about the trip here. Had a layover in Dallas. I think the humidity there was forty-six million percent. I arrived in Las Vegas at 3:00. This is much later than I usually get here, much later then I prefer to get here. I felt like I'd wasted the entire day before I had even started.

After the usual long wait for my luggage, and the very long line for a taxi, I got to The Venetian and checked in.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: This pen really sucks. I need to get a new one.

For the next several hours I searched The Venetian and some of the surrounding establishments for a decent beer place. All I found was a bar at TI with Newcastle on tap. This was not ideal because (a) it wasn't where I was staying, (b) it was served at 32.00001 degrees, and (c) Nevada's new anti-smoking laws made it impossible for me to enjoy two of my favorite vices at the same time. So I ended up leaving after two of the slushy Newcastles (5673), and I went back to The Venetian to sulk for a while.

After a dinner consisting of two giant pretzels with cheese (Nutrition First, I always say) I sat at this little bar on the casino floor, where I could smoke, and asked the bartender what bottled beers he had.

"Everything," he replied.

"Oh really?" I said. "I'd like a bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter, please."

Hey, it was worth a shot.

"Never heard of it," the guy said.

Figures.

So I ended up having a couple bottles of Fat Tire (447). It's a pretty good beer, and I began to feel a little less sorry for myself, and a little more optimistic that I might be able to enjoy myself this week.

At about 10:00, jet-lag kicked in so I retired for the night.

Today I was presented with the possibility of something which just might be the most terrible, mind-wrenching thing that could ever possibly happen. I described the horrific scenario in an email to RockGirl.

Now, you have to realize, RockGirl knows me and my frailties better than just about anyone on Earth. There was no doubt in my mind that she would instantly realize the implications and understand the true horrors of this scenario.

So what was her response?

"I think that would be awesome."

Clearly, RockGirl has been abducted by aliens and replaced by some kind of pod-person. I will be writing her local congressman and urging him to start an immediate investigation. Hopefully the real RockGirl's whereabouts can be determined before it's too late.

---

I'm not really sure why, but today I had HairCutLady use clippers on me instead of just scissors like she normally does. My hair hasn't been this short since I got out of the Air Force in 1992. Plus, now I look like I'm about twelve years old.

---

NotHideousGirl wore a skirt today. Of course I checked out her legs. But because I'm a gentleman I told her, before she even stood up, that I'd be checking out her legs. I didn't even try to be sneaky about it. They're nice, by the way.

---

MisunderstoodGirl is writing a screenplay as a Summer project. People she knows are being asked to contribute character ideas to represent themselves. I can't think of a good character for myself. I thought "freelance gynecologist" was a pretty good one, but FutureDude already got dibs on that character. I'm thinking that "professional beer snob" might be the best I can come up with.

---

NotHideousGirl is also considering a screenplay, but all of her characters are girls.

---

Five days from right now I'll be in Las Vegas! Woooohoooo!

---

I have less than five days to either find my testicles, or grow a new pair.

---

I saw a pretty fucking impressive wall cloud today after work. I got really excited about the potential severe weather, but all it did was rain for a while. At least at my house that's all it did. I haven't watched any TV tonight, so maybe there's been death and destruction all around me. That would be just my luck.

---

There was a chick at work today who looked very familiar to me. I think she might have been a girl I had a crush on back in junior high. If I see her again I'll have to ask her.

---

Schlenkerla Marzen (219) is yummy.

---

I kinda think I want to move back to Alaska. Not forever, but for a year or so. I would live in a secluded cabin and be a recluse. It would be cool.

Yesterday I managed to put myself into a bit of a funk. Understandable, I suppose. Being in a good mood is kind of like wearing clothes that are completely wrong for me. I might be comfortable, and I might even look good at first glance, but once I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I realize just how ridiculous I really look.

Some people might be able to get away with leather pants and flashy jewelry, but not me. Some people might be able to get away with smiling and laughing all the time, but not me.

So yesterday I got a glimpse of myself, and I was a little embarrassed, and even a little revolted, by what I saw.

And the other reason that I found myself in a bad mood yesterday was because, once again, my inertia had run out. And I found myself hoping for another push. And, if you've been reading me for any length of time, you know that hope is a terrible thing for me to have. I wrote once that hope is a strange thing. It exists only to disappoint, for if it's fulfilled, it vanishes.

Yesterday, despite knowing better, I found myself hoping for another push; a couple of specific pushes actually. And then my stupid brain had to butt in and remind me that the odds were very much against either of those things happening, so I went into a preemptive funk.

It would be nice if happiness could have the same inertia as sadness. Maybe it can, eventually. I hope so. That would be cool.

Anyway.

For a late lunch yesterday, I took what has become my customary trip to the Buffalo Wild Wings in Louisville. I had my customary yummy Newcastle (5505) and my customary yummy naked tenders with spicy garlic sauce. I talked with the bartender, and I wrote in my notebook, and I watched nubile young girls play softball on TV. It was nice, I suppose.

Later, on the drive to downtown Louisville, there was a fuck of a storm. I was sitting at a red light and a damn newspaper box went tumbling down the road in front of me. Surreal. My truck shook violently, and I would not have even batted an eye if I'd have flipped over. Turning onto Fifth Street, I saw that it was littered with newspaper boxes and construction signs. The whole scene looked like hurricane footage from The Weather Channel.

So I stopped at Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl for a couple of minutes, then I went to The Pub. I had a Newcastle (5525) and talked with BikerGirl. I also had a new beer:

Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale (10)

(draft) Clear amber in color. No head to speak of. Very strong aroma of coconuts, of all things. Mouthfeel was fairly thin. Coconut predominates the flavor, just like it does the aroma. Smells like suntan lotion, and tastes like what I imagine suntan lotion tastes like. After an inch or so was gone, this started to taste a little better. What was strange was that I got absolutely zero indication of this beer's alleged bourbon influence.

My intention, once I got back home, was to take a nap for an hour, then go to Rich O's. Well my nap ended up being two and a half hours long, so that sucked, and I didn't get to Rich O's until after 9:00.

The place was pretty dead, but I didn't care, because LaptopGirl was there on the sofa.

Push number one!

Yay!

I sat in the throne and had a Diet Coke. My stomach was a little upset, I think because of the coconut beer. I didn't get to talk to LaptopGirl because (a) these people on the loveseat kept talking to me, and (b) LaptopGirl was talking to BigWheelGirl the whole time anyway. Still, it was of course nice to see her. And I'm probably not supposed to say this, but she looked very pretty in her pretty dress and pretty shoes.

About ten minutes after LaptopGirl and BigWheelGirl left, HatGirl came in.

Push number two!

Yay!

Take that, universe! I got both pushes, you asshole!

Feeling much better, I had myself a Delirium Tremens (1008) and a Koningshoeven Quad (508) while I talked with HatGirl and LuckyFucker for an hour or so. HatGirl was wearing these transparent sandal things, and I had to fight the urge to play "this little piggy" with her toes. It was a tough fight, but I did manage to win.

Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, I had another Diet Coke and talked with WomanRepellant and MusicalYuppieDude for a while, then I went back to Louisville to hang out with WeirdGirl some more.

Oh, yeah, I have LuckyFucker's phone. It had fallen behind the sofa cushion. So maybe I'll get to see HatGirl again when I take his phone back to him. Two days in a row would be very cool.

Anyway, today I went shopping at the mall for a while. My tax refund had finally come in, so I had to buy something or risk going more insane. I kept my spending somewhat in-check, so that was good. Some of this money is supposed to go towards my Las Vegas trip in June.

When I left the mall, it was snowing like a mother fucker. In April. Pretty damn weird.

I went to Hooters and had a couple Newcastles (4212) and a quesadilla. All were yummy. The bartender said that she liked my Pink Floyd shirt, and I returned the compliment for her skimpy Hooters top. Then I stopped by Rich O's and had a Mad Bitch (284). It was also quite good.

After a quick nap, I went back to Rich O's at 9:00 or so. It was really packed, and I stood around for a half-hour or so drinking a Fastenbier (77). It was pretty boring, but then three really great things happened.

First, TeamHotness came in. Second, some old people left the kiddie table. Third, some weirdoes left the bar.

So I sat at the kiddie table and TeamHotness sat at the end of the bar and I got to talk to them for a couple of hours.

There may have been other people at Rich O's, and in fact I'm pretty sure that there were other people there, but I didn't care because TeamHotness had my undivided attention.

Oh yeah, I had another Fastenbier at some point (94).

In case I've never explained this before, TeamHotness consists of two girls. I've never seen either of them without the other. One I call ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl and the other I call UnbearablyHotSingleGirl. I think I've used other, less descriptive, nicknames in the past, but I'm not sure. It doesn't matter anyway. They are TeamHotness, and I'm totally smitten with them.

Also, I've been trying to get some people to play 20 Questions with me. To guess what I bought at the mall. RockGirl isn't playing right, and I doubt she'll ever get it. StalkerGirl didn't respond to me until late. But NotHideousGirl played along via text-messaging and guessed correctly in thirteen questions.

Once TeamHotness left, it got boring really quickly. I ordered another Fastenbier, but I only drank a little bit of it (98). Then I talked to this one PBD about various crap. Some of the crap we talked about was LaptopGirl, and I got sad for a while, but I got over it quickly enough I suppose.

Near the end of the night I had an unexpectedly powerful urge to make out with NotHideousGirl. But I didn't. Partly because she wasn't there, but mostly for other reasons beyond my control. Such as, apparently, my hair color. So instead I just came home and petted my cats.

Not the same thing at all.

It was still a good night, though.

The Louisville weather forecast for Saturday.

A slight chance of snow showers between 8am and 11am, then a slight chance of snow showers between 11am and 1pm, then a slight chance of snow showers between 1pm and 4pm, then a slight chance of snow showers after 4pm.

Tonight, it snowed. Not very much, but enough to scare the shit out of everyone except the most die-hard people. So Rich O's was pretty dead, and they started kicking people out very early.

It was a weird night. Ten minutes of interest, followed by two hours of boredom, then another ten minutes of interest, and another hour of boredom.

The interesting parts were provided by some drunk guy. I don't think I ever saw him before, but I guess he knew who I was. And apparently he didn't like the cut of my jib or something. He kept threatening to "knock my block off" - which was funny for the nostalgia brought on by that old-fashioned term at least as much as it was for the mental image of him actually trying. The dude could barely stand up.

Look, I'm sure he's a helluva nice guy. I'm sure he was just in a mood tonight. Live and let live, right?

My first beer was a bottle of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1690). It was yummy as always.

So I sat on the throne. For a while I talked to a guy who proclaimed himself to be The Asshole. Not just any asshole, mind you, but The Asshole. I told him that it was an honor to meet him.

Then this one PBD sat and talked with me for a while. He told me something that really disturbed me. I guess that there are people at Rich O's who think that the whole DaveFest thing was my idea. That I thought up the concept of the customer appreciation festivals, and that I nominated myself to be the first honoree.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Ask Roger. It was his idea, and picking me for the thing was his idea too. It was a huge honor for me, and it bugs me that some people think that it was my idea all along.

I may have an ego on me, but not that much of an ego.

Anyway, after a while WomanRepellant came in and sat on the sofa. Almost immediately, that same drunk guy tried to pick a fight with WomanRepellant. I'd venture to say that he came a lot closer to succeeding than he had with me. It took two or three people to restrain the guy and drag him away.

Like I said, I'm sure he's a nice guy. He's just a really mean drunk I guess.

About five minutes later DrunkGuy came back in, again, and tried, again, to pick a fight with WomanRepellant. He was dragged away, again.

It was kind of weird. I'd spent the first part of the night thinking that I must be really special to have DrunkGuy hate me so much. But as it turned out I wasn't special at all. Oh well.

The rest of the night was calm and relaxing. I had another Weihenstephaner (1707) and then I came home at 10:00 when they started kicking people out.

I got an email from SassyGirl this morning. She hinted that she and JauntyGirl may be coming back soon. I don't know if it would be for a visit or to stay for good though.

Either way, yay!

---

Last night we got what I'm sure will go down in history as The Blizzard of '07. I got a whole 3/4" of snow at my house. And, as if nature hadn't already tortured us enough, they're forecasting another inch tonight. Good thing I've got four-wheel-drive on my truck.

---

My kitchen sink is pretty close to being completely clogged. As of about a half-hour ago, I've dumped about 15 gallons of Drano into the thing over the last couple of months. End result: Nothing.

It may be time to get a plumber in here with one of those snake thingies.

---

Last June Rich O's held a beer festival in my honor, called DaveFest. I might have mentioned it here. With that honor, as it turns out, I get some responsibility too. I'm one of three judges deciding who gets to have the next Rich O's customer appreciation festival. So I've got these essays to read through. Then we judges will get together and try to pick a winner.

It would be a lot simpler if they'd just have DaveFest every year.

---

Yesterday I talked to this girl during lunch who looked almost exactly like Sarah Silverman. In other words, hot. In even more words, fucking smoldering hot.

I got her number, but when I called her today she flaked-out on me.

There's a lot of flaking going around lately.

---

Tonight, unless I chicken out, I'm going to eat ground beef. In yummy taco form. This will be the first time I've had ground beef since my explosive illness the second week of January.

---

I guess that's it.

I don't remember much about Friday night. I'd been deprived of a nap by some unsettling news. I remember that Rich O's was crowded as fuck, and that I had some Wostyntje (149), and that I left early.

---

On Saturday, well at least she called. To tell me that she wouldn't be able to accompany me. Even though it was a negative RSVP, it was still was very nice and considerate of her, and it kept me from thinking that she might be a bitch or something. So that's good. I don't like thinking bad thoughts about people.

---

Plan B was DooRagGirl, but she was, understandably, hesitant to attend a party where she wouldn't know anyone but me. I am, apparently, not good enough on my own. Oh well. Story of my life, right there.

---

I had no real plan C, so I decided that I wouldn't be attending the party at all. Instead I was going to go to Louisville and hang out there for a while. Maybe talk to CoolHairGirl and see if she'd liked the Newcastle she'd finally tried.

But nooooooooooooooo!

I got a text message from HatGirl, leting me know that they were going to Rich O's.

So I went to Rich O's, where I sat with HatGirl (yay!) and LuckyFucker. He was being a dick for some reason. I don't know why. I had myself a couple glasses of Wostyntje (169) and talked to HatGirl about what lousy drivers we used to be.

After the happy couple left, I talked with DooRagGirl for an hour or so. I had another Wostyntje (179). I really like that beer. Plus, it's nice and light. I seem to have some kind of mental block about dark and heavy beers. Ever since my illness. That, and ground beef. Ugh.

Anyway.

Once DooRagGirl left, I became concerned that some weird people were going to try to talk to me, so I left too.

(Note: I have been working on being more sociable. It just doesn't seem to work very well at Rich O's.)

----

So I went over to Louisville. CoolHairGirl wasn't working, so I didn't get to see her. I went over to the pub and got to talking with EllaGirl. She actually remembered my name this time, so that was cool. After a while, we all went to this little dive bar so everybody could unwind. It was okay I suppose, but I'd cut myself off hours ago, so I could only sit and watch while EllaGirl and her friends got shitfaced while I drank Diet Cokes.

At 3:30 or so, I came home alone. By choice.

---

On Sunday, I didn't do much except play pool and watch a couple of movies. I watched Sleepy Hollow. HatGirl had told me before that she looks like Christina Ricci, but she's wrong. Christina Ricci fucking wishes that, on her best day, she looked a gazillionth as pretty as HatGirl looks on her worst day.

---

Sunday night I had one of the beers that I purchased the other day.

Unibroue Trois Pistoles (25)

(bottle) Black, revealing amber only when strongly backlit. Huge creamy head. Aroma of oak and malty apples and cherries. Flavor is like the aroma, only better. There's something else there, maybe grapes of all things. Pretty damn yummy.

Oh yeah, it's freaking cold here. It's supposed to get down to single digits tonight, with a wind chill of minus 8,000,000 or some crap like that. Also, it snowed all morning, but there's not even a light dusting. What a waste of cold weather. I hate Winter.

I suppose I should write my Friday report, before I'm washed to my doom in this flooding.

(DISCLAIMER: I know that some people have real floods to deal with. Some people lose everything they own, even their lives, to flooding. But I don't know any of those people, so it's okay.)

When I left my house to go to Rich O's last night it was pouring down rain.

I got there at about 8:00 I think. Doesn't really matter. The place was fucking packed. I ordered a Bell's Kalamazoo Stout (470) and sat at the island with some people I know and some people I don't know.

After a while, the voice of one of the people I don't know started slicing through my skull and vibrating all of my brain cells into mush, so I grabbed my shit and moved to the bar. It was either that or murder her.

And there I sat.

At the bar, I spent most of my time talking to the ghost. It was nice to see her again. I also texted RockGirl and I also talked to some stranger who was sitting at the other end of the bar.

The Bells's wasn't tasting very good. Probably my fault. So I ordered a bottle of Avery The Reverend.

And then I sat some more. I was really enjoying the solitude. Really. I sorta wished that I'd brought my notebook though. I could have written down the conversation that I had with the ghost.

Well The Reverend turned out to be too much for me and my semi-empty stomach, so I didn't quite finish the bottle (158).

When I left Rich O's it was pouring down rain. When I got home there was water seeping into my basement. It sucked. It still sucks.

Anyway, I was bored so I was going to go to this Korner Kitchen bar near my house but NotHideousGirl texted me so I went to see her instead. I went to this Mac's place that I don't like and I drank about a million Diet Cokes and talked to NotHideousGirl until they closed the place down at 3:00 and kicked us out.

On the way home (again) it was still fucking pouring down rain.

The main road to my house was blocked because of flooding, so I took the alternate road. That road featured about a dozen telephone poles in various states of scatteredness. These were I guess new poles that somebody had stashed somewhere so they'd be available when it came time to install them.

Brilliant plan, asshole.

The first pole I encountered was completely blocking the road, but I was able to shift into 4WD and drive through the ditch next to the road. Then there was a truck coming my way so I waved to get him to stop and told him about the pole. He told me that there were a dozen more poles waiting for me in the direction I was heading.

Yippee!

Most of these poles were not completely blocking the road so I could just drive around them. But one of them, the last one in fact, lay across the road at a point where there was no way to go around.

So I shifted back into 4WD, and drove right over the fucker.

That was pretty cool.

So I made it home and spent some time sucking water off of my basement floor with my shop vac.

When I went to bed it was still pouring down rain.

As I write this it's pouring down rain again.

I think I saw an ark go by earlier.

It is raining like a mother fucker.

My basement carpet is getting wet. I hate it when that happens.

I set off my alarm when I opened my basement door to dump water out of my shop vac. I really hate it when that happens.

Stupid rain.

I like storms. I really do. I've been fascinated with them since I was about four years old.

Right now, there is lightning and thunder, and I'm freaking out a little.

The thunder - it just isn't normal thunder. I mean, it's not one of the two normal kinds of thunder. It's not the kind that's a loud bang indicating a nearby lightning flash. And it's not the long drawn-out rumble associated with a distant flash.

It's something else.

Something strange.

Something a little scary.

It's kind of like a machine gun. A series of very loud noises spaced impossibly close together. It's definitely not the result of hundreds of lightning strikes all occurring in a row. It's one sound, one sound that lasts maybe five seconds or so, but a sound that's almost interrupted ten times a second.

You know what it sounds like?

A giant zipper.

An incredibly huge and incredibly loud zipper, being pulled across the sky.

I wonder, if I were to look out my office window right now, would I see God's wang?

I don't think I want to look. I mean, I'm pretty sure I can't compete with that thing.

I drove into this loveliness on my way home from work this evening.

I wish I had a wide-angle option on my phone. The sky was incredible.

Somehow, the lack of lightning made it even scarier.

It's snowing like a mother fucker right now.

Do mother fuckers really snow?

Tonight I was hoping to tell the tale of my exciting journey to The Land Of Oz.

No such luck.

The night was a complete waste, weather-wise. At least here at my house it was. All it did was rain.

And I was really looking forward to seeing some flying monkeys.

Tonight's one of those slight chance of severe weather nights, complete with a tornado watch. This is in stark contrast to the other night when, 75 miles West of me, two dozen people were killed by a tornado that supposedly had zero chance of forming.

So tonight I get to sleep fully-clothed, on my couch, with my weather alert thingy by my side, ready to run into my basement or into my front yard - whichever suits my mood, should severe weather threaten.

This is quite cool, having storms like this in November.

It would be slightly less cool to be killed by a tornado tonight, but at least it would get me out of work tomorrow.

Tomorrow's supposed to be our main threat. Fucking all Hell will probably come unleashed and I'll be stuck at work.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

It's hard to think of things to write when I'm in a good mood.

It's supposed to storm tonight. Maybe that will bring a little interest to my life.

I used to really like stormy weather. I still do I guess. I mean I still look forward to the Spring storm season. I've noticed, however, that since I stopped renting and actually bought a house, I'm no longer quite as excited over the prospect of having a tornado tear down my street.

The dreadicipation over the upcoming weekend is starting to make itself known. Not really suffering from surprisaphobia right now - I'm just not quite comfortable with things as they are. And I feel like things will be changing soon.

Last night, I had a beer that a friend of mine had made - his first homebrewing effort. I liked it okay. There was no carbonation to speak of, and I know that'll disappoint him. It was also very sweet, almost like sweetened iced tea. A hell of a lot better than any first attempt of mine would ever be, that's a safe bet.

Let's see, Friday I'm having my taxes done. I'm expecting a big drop in my refund amount over what it was the last few years. I dropped a couple of percentage points on my mortgage interest when I refinanced last Spring. Hopefully I'll still have enough left to blow in Las Vegas or Orlando over the next couple of months.

Gee, pretty exciting entry, wasn't it?

When MisunderstoodGirl annouced that it was "pouring down snow" I thought it was a pretty odd thing to say.

After driving home in the stuff I can't think of a better way to describe it.

I haven't driven through snow this heavy since I experienced some blow-back in Juneau, Alaska, 10 years ago, and that wasn't officially snow at all.

Snow was piling up on my windshield faster than my wipers could take it off.

But anyway, I obviously made it home, and here I sit.

I had pretty much decided that I wasn't going to Rich O's tonight. The dreadicipation (I just coined that word) was giving me an actual anxiety attack. I was freaked out about the Gravity Head (Rich O's strong beer festival) crowds, I was paranoid about the numerous times I'd been quizzed about my plans for the night, I had gotten to the point where I could only imagine the worst possible outcome if I went to the bar.

While I was quietly having a nervous breakdown at home, however, two things happened.

First, RealTrainGirl contacted me and promised to be my rock if the Gravity Head crowd started to get to me.

Second, if you think I'm going to write about what was second you're wrong. Let's just say that my full Moon theory has been blown to bits.

So I ended up braving Rich O's, getting there at about 10:00.

The place was pretty damned crowded, though it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. I'd had the good timing to arrive when the island was unoccupied so I grabbed a seat and RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl joined me.

To drink, all I had was a couple pints of NABC's new Noble Smoker. I really like it, and I didn't feel at all like experimenting with any other beer. Not tonight anyway.

We ended up staying until 12:30 or so. RealTrainGirl once again impressed me with her ability to drink. MisunderstoodGirl did not emanate a "fuck you asshole" vibe, so that was good.

I had a good night. Much better than it would have been if I'd shut myself in a closet and sucked my thumb at home, as was my original plan.

Oh, yeah. RealTrainGirl told me a little bit of gossip that I found intriguing, and she also agreed with me that a certain dipshit must have been lying to me when he told me that TrainGirl didn't remember me. I of course knew that already, but it was nice to have a second opinion.

It's supposed to get fucking cold tonight. Of course that's not exactly what the weatherguy said, but I'm sure that's what he was thinking.

Because of the fucking cold and the even more fucking cold (fuckinger?) forecast for tomorrow night, I've made a little bed/house/fort for this stray cat that lives under my deck.

She's just the sweetest thing, but I cannot allow her into the house as I'm afraid that she'll get my cats sick.

Normally I don't worry too much about her, but it's supposed to be so fucking cold for the next two nights that I just had to do something.

I took my cat carrier, stuffed a pillow into it, wrapped it in a beach towel, and put it in my garage. My back garage door I propped open about six inches so Spook (the cat) could enter and leave the garage as she saw fit.

So now Spook is laying in her new little shelter, just purring like crazy when I went to check on her. She's just such a good cat. I wish I could find a home for her.

They say Floyd County got 14" of snow. It's really hard to tell with all of the blowing and drifting, but I'd guess that my house got closer to 20".

Just thought I'd put up some pics of what I'm trying to deal with here.

This is as far as I got trying to shovel my driveway out from under the multiple layers of snow and ice. Usually one of my neighbors will bring a plow and clear my driveway for me. I'm still hopeful that they'll do it again.

I did, however, manage to shovel a path down my walkway. Because of the drifting the snow here was up to 36" deep.

The prints I left this morning going to the detached garage to get my snow shovel and look at my useless snowblade mower attachment.

My deck always seems to be a magnet for snow.

The snow piled up against my basement door - at the North end of the house.

Multiple Christmas activities are being either cancelled or postponed. One that's still on is that I'm supposed to have a lot of people over tomorrow night. If I don't get that driveway cleared visitors should have a real adventure.

We got about 5" of snow today. Now there's sleet and freezing rain. Supposed to be another 6-10" of snow later tonight.

Pretty damn cool.

We had a brief lull at around 5:00 so I (of course) went to Rich O's and had a beer. Didn't really feel like experimenting so I just had a Great Lakes Christmas Ale.

I guess that's it.

How shortlived memories can be.

I just got off the phone with my sister, who was all excited/nervous about the SNOW that they're predicting for Wednesday.

Apparently she's forgotten the last six winters.

Apparently she's forgotten how, week after week, all of the local stations start hollering "Snow! Snow! Snow!" every time their ratings drop.

They know that this will get people to tune in for the latest forecast, the latest school closings, the latest bullshit.

For me, this all came to a head last Winter, when the forecasts for snow were so persuasive that there were several preemptive school closings.

Before a single flake had fallen.

Then, surprise! it turned out that the forecasts were wrong after all, there was no snow at all.

But tune in tomorrow, as a new system is making its way out of the Rockies. Will we see a white weekend? Find out at 6:00, 11:00, and noon!

I'm not buying their crap anymore.

I like snow. I missed it a lot when I lived in Seattle. I'd like to see it snow.

So I hope I'm wrong, and I hope the professionals are right.

But I'm not counting on it.

Coming home from work this morning was sort of interesting.

We've had a little snow, maybe a half-inch, and the idiots are out in full force.

After successfully avoiding the SUVIdiots who think slick roads are irrelevant to them, and the PussIdiots who reduce their speed to a single-digit number at sight of the first flake, I made it to the bottom of the big hill on my road.

My house sits atop that hill, and between me and my house this morning were an estimated 114 cars and trucks strewn about in varying states of crashedness.

So I turned around and went back to the only alternate route available to me - through Edwardsville.

When I got to within a quarter-mile or so of my house I ran into a different problem.

Georgetown's Finest had, upon noticing the 114 cars and trucks strewn about, had decided to park in front of my driveway and block traffic to the hill.

I was stuck in this backup, but I was able to use the (empty) oncoming traffic side of the road to get home.

Notice that I said the trip home was sort of interesting, nothing more than that.

Drove through snow flurries on the way to work this morning.

First snow of the season here, as far as I know.

Hopefully not the last though.

As what's left of Hurricane Frances spirals and dumps rain to the East of me I can't help but feel a little gyped that what was such an awesome storm has only provided me with some wind and clouds.

Sometimes I wish I lived along the Gulf Coast so I could experience one of these incredible storms in its full fury.

Then I see the reports of all the devastation, injuries, and deaths, and I have to be grateful that I don't live anywhere near there.

I know that, were I in Florida when Frances hit, I'd have been one of those idiots that refused to evacuate and instead held a deck party.

I'd probably have gotten a Darwin Award out of it.

On Friday and Saturday many people in the Edwardsville area spent their days clearing fallen trees and limbs from the Thursday tornado(es).

On Sunday tornadoes came again, and they hit a lot of the same places. Talk about adding insult to injury.

The church across the street from where I grew up had its driveway completely blocked. Again.

The old house where my grandmother used to live had some serious tree damage. Again. This time a tree split in half and part of it actually hit the house.

The owners of Polly's Freeze, next door to my grandmother's old house, lost trees. Again.

The Sunday storm seemed to pass behind the church, continuing on to the road where my cousin Jeff lives. Many trees were taken out along that road. Again.

Another thing I saw was that the little red shed, the shed I'd built when I lived in the double-wide after I'd first moved back to Edwardsville, had been destroyed by a toppled tree.

My own street was once again pretty much spared. Once again my power stayed on throughout the day and night.

On Sunday evening the "real" storm line was scheduled to pass through the area, and the shit was really supposed to hit the fan.

As far as I can tell somebody forgot to tell the storm about that plan. All it did was rain at my house. My cousin Jeff, feeling a little rattled after tornadoes had passed over his house and tore down his road twice in a four-day period, came over to my house and we sat in my basement watching the weather reports.

After the afternoon's excitement the nighttime storm was a real letdown.

I may be the only person who feels this way though. Normal people were probably relieved.

For most of my life I've been fascinated by severe weather.

Ever since my father took me out storm watching when I was five years old I've looked forward to the Spring and Summer storm seasons so I could enjoy the thunder and lightning and even hope for a glimpse of a tornado.

In my 39 years of life I've never seen a tornado, but I've come pretty close a couple of times.

Thursday night may have been the closest yet. It was certainly one of the worst storms I've experienced.

My night began when I was awakened from my after-work nap by the rumblings of thunder. It's been pretty stormy here for the last couple of nights, but nothing spectacular has occurred. I turned on the TV to see what the radar looked like.

All hell was breaking loose. A tornado warning was in effect for Washington County, where my sister Neisha lives. A huge blob of red covered most of Southern Indiana and all of the local stations had interrupted their regular programming for what would turn out to be several solid hours of severe weather warnings.

I tried to call Neisha, but there was no answer. I wasn't very concerned because by that point I'd heard that the confirmed tornado had passed several miles south of where she lives. She called me back a little later, as excited about the weather as I was, and told me that they'd be leaving their mobile home to take shelter at a neighbor's house if things got bad again.

I moved to my basement to play some pool and keep an eye and ear on the weather reports. For a while, though I heard lots of rumbling, the radar showed everything to be staying to the north of Floyd County.

All of that changed pretty rapidly though. A new red blob formed in Washington County, and this one was moving to the Southeast, towards Floyd. I called my other sister Dina, who lives in the Northwest corner of Floyd County, to make sure she was aware of the situation. They were keeping an eye on things as well. Dina told me that my grandmother was "freaked out" and that I should be sure to check on her. While I was talking with Dina the hail started hitting her house. I had a few minutes before the edge of the storm would make it to my location so I told Dina I was going out to watch and hung up.

Just as I hung up the weatherman said they'd just had an unconfirmed report of a tornado touching down in Georgetown Indiana. This was interesting to me for a couple of reasons. First, the red blob was still many minutes away from Georgetown, and second, it's where I live. Specifically I live about five miles directly East of that town.

Being the dumbass that I am, I ran upstairs and out my front door to see what I could see. I've always figured that if I'm going to be killed by a tornado I at least want to see the damn thing first.

Anyway, I was standing in the little stone alcove surrounding my front door and wishing that I had a better view to the West. From what I COULD see it looked like a regular storm - the clouds weren't even very scary looking.

The trees were swaying and the thunder was rumbling. I then noticed that the approximately 874,354,468,462 cicadas that had invaded my area lately had gone silent.

That was my first sign that something unusual was going on.

The second sign was this: Every single leaf and twig and branch that was laying in my yard, courtesy of the storms of the previous night, suddenly picked up and flew off to the south. I barely had time to ponder this development when every single one of them came back and dropped onto the ground again.

This Triumphant Return Of The Twigs was accompanied by the strongest winds I've seen in a very long time. I still cannot believe I didn't lose any trees, or that my new roof didn't lose any shingles.

At about this time I had a fairly startling realization. The "thunder rumbling" I'd been hearing was not thunder at all. It was far too steady a sound for that. What I was hearing was the locomotive sound you always hear associated with tornadoes. It hadn't clicked in my mind earlier because it was much softer than I would have expected.

Upon making this leap of logic I became scared of the weather for only the second time in my adult life. Still being a dumbass, however, I did not run back into my basement, stick my thumb in my mouth, and sit rocking back and forth in a corner. Instead I stepped out of my semi-protective alcove and looked to the South - where all the rumbling was coming from.

While the clouds to the west had seemed fairly tame the view to the South revealed a completely different story. It looked as if some painter had gone insane and slung gray and green and black paint across the sky in some fit of artistic rage.

There could have been a tornado hidden in that jumble of clouds. Hell there could have been ten of the things and I wouldn't be surprised at all. Actually a tornado might have been a welcomed sight - it would have helped to infuse some sense into that sky.

By the time this leading edge of the storm had passed things actually calmed down pretty quickly. Very hard rain, strong wind gusts, flickering lights. These things are common during the Spring and Summer.

For some reason I still had power, so I talked to Dina again on the phone. Neisha's phone went unanswered but she'd already told me they were going to a neighbor's house.

I called my grandmother who, as I suspected, was not "freaking out" at all, but was instead relying on her telephone to keep her informed of the weather situation because her power was out.

Based on what I'd seen outside, along with what I'd been hearing on the television, I was now convinced that a tornado had passed just to the south of me. I hopped into my truck and went out to survey the destruction. I also grabbed some candles to deliver my grandmother.

I didn't really see any major damage during my brief expedition. It was just too dark. My street was the only one I saw that still had power. All traffic lights were out. All street lights were out. Everything was dark except for the lightning and the headlights of other cars.

I never did make it to my grandmother's house. I tried four different routes and all were blocked - two by fallen trees, one by a downed power line, and one by a car that had gone into a ditch and then been t-boned by a truck.

At this last scene I called my grandmother again and told her my situation. She was fine. A neighbor had checked on her and she had candles. I also called Dina and let her know I'd be on my cell phone for a while if she needed to contact me.

Once I and several others helped to clear the accident I moved down Yenowine lane further. I was less than a mile from my grandmother's house and I saw that I would get no further. The roadway had become a river, and even in my truck I wasn't going to try to cross that thing.

Still wanting to assess the situation I made my way through the dark and debris-littered streets to my cousin Jeff's house. Actually I made it as far as his driveway and that's it. One and perhaps several large trees were laying across the drive. I parked at his neighbor's house and made my way across the muck to his house. He was fine as well, just pissed about the fallen trees that he'd have to deal with in the morning.

So I went back home. I still had power. I played some more pool and continued to watch the weather alerts on the television. Once the situation had moved to the East I went to sleep.

At about 5:00 AM my power went out for about 10 seconds, then came back.

Four inches of snow fell last night, and I'm sorry to admit that that's a lot of snow for this area these days.

This could end up being the biggest snowfall we get this season and that really sucks.

Winters were a lot more interesting when I was a kid.