I think I can still remember this well enough to write about it. This was Friday morning.

I was asleep in my bed, and for some reason I woke up and looked out my window. It was pretty dark outside, but I could still kinda see. I could kinda see a large shape running away. Like it had seen me at the window and been spooked. I'm pretty sure that it was a bear, from the size of it. I guess it could have been a deer, but it kind of lumbered, so I pegged it as a bear.

I continued to look out the window, in case the bear came back, I wanted to see it. A bear sighting would be pretty rare for me.

Well, the bear didn't come back, but another pair of animals did. It was, I thought at first, a wolf and a dog. They came to the ground below my window and laid down. I don't think they saw me. I spent some time looking down at them, trying to see if it was a real wolf or just a Husky or something like that. It wasn't really that big, so I figured that it was probably a Husky. Still dangerous-looking though. The other animal was a St. Bernard or a Malamute maybe, and I didn't pay much attention to it.

Then I had to pee, so I did that. Then I was thirsty, so I went out to the kitchen.

On the way, I noticed that my cats were all lined up at the door to the deck, their tails twitching like crazy. They were looking at a racoon that was out there eating something. So I went up to the door to look at it, because I like racoons. They're pretty cool. Much cooler than the opossums I usually get on my deck.

Once I got down on the floor with my cats I saw that it was actually just a racoon skeleton with its pelt draped over it. It was gross. All red and bloody. Every time the racoon would take a bite of what it was eating, the food would just fall through and hit the floor of my deck.

Then I figured out that the racoon was actually eating its own meat and guts, and I became a little scared of the racoon. My main fear was that whatever autocannibalistic zombie disease it had would spread to my three cats. So I turned on my outside lights and the raccoon scampered away.

So I guess it was a sex dream, in a weird way.

I like sex dreams.

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that StoreGirl and I had been photographed and interviewed by a dude from one of the local free newspapers. Well some of the fruits of that session made it into this week's issue.

Apparently, space was an issue, because none of the stuff about how awesome I am made into the final article. I guess they decided to cut out the obvious stuff first.

But still, pretty cool.

And I've thought about it, and I've decided that I will continue to associate with the little people in my life. I won't let this new fame go to my head.

I will, however, still accept groupies.

It's only a matter of time before all this eye-rolling in my head breaks through to the surface. It's really nothing personal though. It's just that my first instinct, more often than not lately, has been one of anger, or disappointment, or frustration.

I think that, at my most basic and primitive level, I'm a bit of an asshole. And an idiot, mustn't forget that.

I cannot intellectually justify the irritation that I've been feeling, because there is no intellectual justification for it. It's all bullshit, but it's bullshit that's hard-wired into me. I can't change my instincts any more than a VCR can make toast.

So I keep hearing about all this crap, and I keep being watched for a reaction. Eventually I'm going to roll my eyes and piss someone off or, even worse, hurt someone's feelings.

Lately, every instinct I've had has been completely incongruent with my own sense of who I am and of who I want to be. It's a pretty shitty way to live, being in constant disagreement with oneself. This has been going on for weeks.

Also, this has been a really annoying entry to write. This is like the sixth time I've tried. I know exactly what I want to say, but how to say it - that has been eluding me.

I need a vacation from myself.

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

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

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

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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.

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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.

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Schlenkerla Marzen (219) is yummy.

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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.

I suppose, if I had to write an entry now, I'd write about how I don't really like the tone that things seem to be taking in my head. And I don't like the turn that things seem to be taking in my life.

And I'd write about how there are no real choices, just varying degrees of inevitable stupidity.

Luckily I don't have to write anything at all, so I won't.

I guess some guys must fall for this shit. I'm glad I'm not one of them.

Hi,

How was your weekend? Mine sucked! My boyfriend dumped me last week and I need to get out there and meet someone. I saw your profile and see that you looked pretty cool. I like older guys too. I need someone more mature. Anyways I just signed up for this dating site if you want to look me up my profile name is "summerfun2"

See more picture of me! its free to sign up! I need a date!

I also have more pictures on there too (including my trip with my girlfriends to the Bahamas last month :)

One of the things I scribbled into my notebook yesterday, I mean besides all the crap about being out of style, was that I've been finding myself very irritated with some people lately. This might not seem to be anything new for me. I am, after all, a bit of a grouch. But this recent irritation has been new.

I'm finding myself irritated with a lot of those people who are, on paper at least, closest to me. They keep telling me stuff that (a) is none of my business, and (b) I'm not sure how to respond to, and (c) they think will provoke a specific reaction.

I think that it's that last thing that's been bothering me the most. That there's always an unspoken expectation that I'm going to react to whatever I've just been told. And, beyond that, there's hope that I'm going to react in a certain way. There's always that little pause after they tell me things. They pause, and they look at me, and they wait to see how I react. To see if I react the way they want me to react.

Here's an example, which may or may not be from real life.

A friend of mine tells me that she's going to go flirt with some guy. Then she pauses. She looks at me. To see how I react to that statement. What am I, a fucking mind-reader? Am I supposed to be an encouraging friend? Am I supposed to be a little jealous? Fuck if I know. Stop looking at me like that.

It's the damn pause and the damn look that irritates me. It makes me feel like I'm back in school and the teacher has just called on me for an answer that I don't know.

I don't like this entry. I should have written it after a couple of beers. Oh, well. Too late now.