I guess the stress is part of the fun, too.

I'm not really sure how to break this to you.

I guess I'll just come out and say it.

The DaveFest shirts aren't going to be ready for at least a week.

Now, calm down please. The Sun will still rise and set tomorrow. It will probably continue to do so this weekend when DaveFest begins on schedule.

So, after several emails, I think I've got the quantities correct. For the initial order anyway. Any subsequent orders will, quite frankly, be a pain in the ass and I can't guarantee that they'll even happen.

I'm disappointed, of course. I was really looking forward to seeing my likeness adorn the chests of friends and strangers alike this weekend. It would have been surreal and sublime.

But alas, it's not meant to be. Not just yet.

I'm told that the shirts will be ready by next Friday, in time for the final wave of DaveFest when the Rogue beers go on tap.

For those of you holding non-refundable tickets to Louisville for this weekend, let me apologize. Let me also assure you that the trip will still be worthwhile. In the end, it's really about the beer.

In silent protest of this atrocity, my beautiful female readers should feel free to attend the festival shirtless.

Right now I want to write something, but that thing which I want to write, or at least that thing which I think I want to write - it continues to evade me.

I do catch glimpses of it every now and then, though. Fleeting flashes of something that, if I could just get a good look, I know would be worthy of a great entry.

Great being relative, of course. You have to consider the source.

I've learned, or been reminded of, some very important lessons over this past week or so. I've done a lot of soul-searching. I've done more than my fair share of feeling sorry for myself. I've drank a lot of beer.

Whatever it is that I'm doing, it's not working. Whatever it is that I'm trying to accomplish here in this life, on this planet, it eludes me. Whatever it is that I'm looking to get out of all of this, it's just not happening.

I need to learn to deal with these failures, and I'm really trying to do just that. But it's hard to truly allow myself to cope with this disappointment when I'm not even sure what I'm disappointed with. It's like I walk through life wearing shoes that just don't quite fit.

I think that I'm pretty good at putting myself into another person's position. Understanding their motives and their desires. I don't always like what this empathy shows me, but each bit of understanding brings with it a speck of compassion. It cannot be helped. The two go hand-in-hand.

The problem is, the problem is that I've become so focused on trying to decipher and understand the motives and feelings of certain others, I've lost touch with my own inner workings.

I don't know what it is that I want. I just know that what I have is not it.

So I reach out blindly and I reflexively close my fingers around anything and everything I can touch. I pull my hand close to my face and I open my fingers and I look at my prize and I wonder Is this what I've been missing?

Random chance may eventually give me what I want, but it hasn't happened yet.

Maybe I should try something else.

Maybe I should give up.

This is drivel, I know.

There's no point to this entry, and if you've read this far hoping for one, then I apologize.

I guess I'm just in shock.

I understand that much at least.

Well that last entry was clearly crap.

Oh well. Can't be helped now. Google has it in its grasp.

So, in an effort to show some semblance of normality, I present this entry.

I've used that line, or one very similar to it, at least three times now. I like the way it reads. Makes it seem like something important may be coming. Kind of like when a woman says, "Oh, this old thing? I just threw something on." And then she looks totally hot and stuff.

Not. This. Time.

Anyway, yesterday started out okay.

I watched the first twelve hours or so of the 24 first season DVDs. I'd forgotten what an asshole Tony was in the beginning, and what a useless brat Kim was. It's a good show.

Kiefer Sutherland is cool as fuck.

At 4:00 or so I drove to the other side of the Moon, otherwise known as Salem Indiana, to feed my sister's cats. I forget where she went. Some Renaissance Faire I think.

My sister Neisha has a shitload of cats. I can use that word in its slang sense as well as its literal one, the latter because when you get that many cats sharing a single litterbox it's - well, it's a shitload.

She's got one new kitten that might be a bit of an asshole, but it's a kitten so it's cute. It was also one of the only cats that didn't seem to be scared of me. Even E-Coli or whatever his name is seemed skittish about me being there. That cat used to just love me, and would happily shred the skin on my forearms at the slightest provocation.

Oh yeah, and Gleelore was also glad to see me.

After I'd cleaned the litter box, I spent a few fruitless minutes trying to decipher Neisha's feeding instructions. In the end I just kept dumping food into plates and making sure that all of the cats got something to eat. This turned out to be no small feat, because the kitten was, as I said, a bit of an asshole.

After I left Neisha's I drove to my other sister's house. Dina was, for some reason that I cannot quite fathom, hosting a graduation party for the son of a friend. This would be Hell for me, as the only thing I can think of that would be more annoying than a bunch of screaming teenagers would be a bunch of screaming teenagers that I never saw before in my life.

But, Dina has always been the hostess of our little group. Plus, she's got a pool.

But I didn't go to Dina's for the party.

I went to see her new kitten.

It's a tiny thing, only a few weeks old. Its mother abandoned it, and all of its siblings died. I hope this one grows to be big and strong because Dina is obviously quite attached to it already.

Also at the party were a bunch of people, some that I knew, and some that I didn't. I left fairly quickly as I had a date.

---

After my date disintegrated, I was left alone at The Pub in Louisville's Fourth Street Live district. I guess I could have gone home, but a part of me was thinking that the whole episode might have been some kind of sick joke. I half-expected Allen Funt and MixedSignalGirl to walk in and point out the hidden cameras and then everybody would have a good laugh.

Is Allen Funt even alive anymore?

So I stayed. I stayed and I had myself a couple of yummy Newcastles (1980). I would have had another one except the bartender told me that I was better off and that, "That girl isn't that pretty anyway." So I left her a $.01 tip and went next door to The Hard Rock.

At The Hard Rock, I had myself a Guinness (1239) in a souvenir glass, and I watched videos for a while, then I came home.

---

I did try to call her. I got voicemail.

I tried again this morning. I got voicemail.

I won't try again.

Something has happened.

Something most decidedly not good.

I sit here today trying not to think about this choice that I've been given. Not that it's much of a choice. I already know what my decision is. I only had to think about it for maybe two seconds after it was presented to me.

I know what I'll do. I'll do what's right. Not right for me, and not right for her, and not right for us. But what's right nonetheless.

So, I said the words.

I said the words and it wasn't enough. She wanted proof.

I cannot prove that I love her. Not the way she wants.

But I can, I can prove something else.

I can prove that, at my core, I am a good person.

She should have already known that.

She shouldn't need proof.

Got to Rich O's early last night. 7:30 or so. It's one of my quirks that I like to watch hot girls come in, and HatGirl had said that they'd be in on Saturday so I went early to give myself the best chance of getting a seat with a good view. HatGirl and LuckyFucker typically keep early hours at Rich O's.

Ideally, I'd have grabbed the throne, but there was some stranger sitting there, and his date was on the loveseat. I don't know why but they looked like they'd be the annoying type, so I sat at the island instead of joining them.

I ordered a Smithwick's (786) and just kind of vegged out for a while. The place was pretty dead, and I don't think it was because I was early. Some people have these things called lives and so they sometimes go to places besides Rich O's on long holiday weekends.

ElPresidente came in and told me about some PBD campout or some such thing that's in a couple of weeks. I reminded him that DaveFest would probably still be going on so I doubted that I'd be doing any camping.

At 8:30 or so, SpoonsGirl came in with her brother VegasDude. He's in town for the graduation of SpoonsGirl's son. So we sat and talked and I tried a couple of times to make beer recommendations.

My second beer was a yummy Avery The Reverend (120). I went ahead and ordered a 20oz pint of it instead of the usual 10oz glass.

So we sat and talked for a couple of hours about nothing much. Stories of their childhoods, Las Vegas, and crazy women drivers. TallLady came and joined us, and I became concerned that there'd be no place for HatGirl and LuckyFucker to sit if they came in.

This fear was realized when TallLady invited a couple of Daytonians to join us, but by then it was 9:30 and I'd started to suspect that my friends wouldn't be coming after all.

At 9:38 I got a text message from HatGirl that they'd be in "shortly."

At 10:38 I sent HatGirl a text message asking if she'd changed her mind.

At 10:45 HatGirl and LuckyFucker came in.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I'd already told SpoonsGirl and her brother and the Daytonians that I'd be leaving them once HatGirl arrived, and that's what I did. I moved down to the red room table where we talked about TV and similar exciting topics.

My last beer was a Guinness (1217).

A little after 11:00, DooRagGirl came in and sat with us.

DooRagGirl!

Yay!

It turns out that DooRagGirl has never seen the show Lost! and so HatGirl, LuckyFucker, and I spent some time urging her to correct that injustice.

Once the bartenders started giving everyone their bills (their subtle way of saying get the fuck out so I can go home) the place cleared out fairly quickly. I sat for a few extra minutes with DooRagGirl while I finished my Diet Coke, then I went to White Castle then came home.

It was a nice night.

I guess I could be imagining things that aren't really there, but I don't think so.

I speak to you, when I'm able, and I hear the strain in your voice. I look at you, when I dare, and I see it in your eyes.

I see the same thing in myself. That constant struggle to censor yourself, to say and do the right thing, it wears at you, drags you down.

And you feel like you can't discuss it with anyone because it makes you seem weak. Because then you would be exposed as the human being that you are. Flawed, just like everyone else.

I'd like to say that, in the end, this war you wage within yourself will be won. That it will be, in the end, worth the stress that you feel right now.

I'd like to say that but it would be a lie. I don't know how it's going to turn out for you. When searching for ourselves we don't always find what we expected. When battling our inner demons the good guys don't always win.

I don't like the way things seem to be turning, but all I can do is wish you well. I can't really help you with this. I could never be objective enough to give you untainted advice.

So I'll just wait, and I'll cross my fingers, and I'll see what happens.

For some reason I woke up right at the crack of ridiculous this morning. It wasn't because of my fancy alarm clock though. Probably one of my cats doing something loud.

Anyway, I'm up. So I guess I'll write about last night.

On the way to Rich O's I stopped at the haunted Burger King for a quick bite. They have these new flavor packet thingies that you're supposed to shake onto your fries. Maybe I'll try those one of these days. I like spicy things.

Rich O's was fairly crowded, but SassyGirl and TacoBell had arrived early and they'd managed to secure the island. I sat with them and ordered a Cone Smoker (1846).

SassyGirl and I talked about DaveFest and t-shirts and just generally got caught up because we hadn't seen each other in a million years or so.

CoffeeDude joined us for a bit. He also expressed an interest in a DaveFest shirt.

Everybody seemed to be in a shitty mood. Except me. I was fine.

So we were sitting there talking about nothing much and LuckyFucker came in an sat in the living room area. I gave him a quick wave and wondered where HatGirl was.

About a thousand years later, HatGirl came in.

Yay!

She also sat in the living room area.

Boo!

So I gave her a wave as well and tried to remember if I done anything to piss those two off.

My second beer was a Smithwick's (766).

After what seemed like another thousand years, HatGirl came up and talked to us.

Yay!

Then SassyGirl and TacoBell left and I had a few blessed moments alone with HatGirl. We talked about DaveFest. Then LuckyFucker came over and joined us.

Everybody seemed to be in a shitty mood, like I already said.

My mood was fine, though it was getting worse because of all the grumps.

So HatGirl and LuckyFucker left after just a few minutes with me. I checked my deodorant. It was working fine.

I was alone at the island for a minute or so, until WomanRepellant moved over to join me. He, at least, seemed to be in a good mood.

My third beer was a Gulden Draak (160).

I suppose that's about it, except that this one chick came in that looked like a porn librarian. I drooled at her from afar for a while. WomanRepellant moved over to the throne to get a better look, and I came home.

I just remembered.

I'm supposed to be freaking out.

I guess I should get started.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!